He didn’t seem to notice my lack of zeal. After we broke apart, he said, “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Great,” I said, with a distinct lack of enthusiasm. But no doubt Jonah would attribute my apparent ennui to simple exhaustion. “I’ll talk to you later, then.” And I inserted my key in the lock and opened the door, then slipped inside. Just before I shut the door I heard him say,
“You’re going to be a star, Katherine.”
Safe inside my apartment, I leaned my head against the door and thought, God, I hope not.
Eight
My cell phone rang promptly at ten the next morning. I’d already been up for a while. I hadn’t been lying to Jonah the evening before when I told him I was tired, and I’d gone to bed within twenty minutes of him dropping me off. But early to bed usually means early to rise for me, since I’m not one of those people who can blithely sleep half the day away on the weekend. No, I was already showered and dressed, and gotten my dirty clothes sorted and ready to be hauled down to the on-site laundry room. So I really had no reason not to answer the phone, except that when I picked it up and looked at the incoming number, I realized it was Jonah calling.
Maybe persistence could be a virtue, if you were trying to find a cure for cancer or attempting to track down terrorists or something equally important. In this case, however, I just found it annoying. I had zero interest in a second date with Jonah. I didn’t really appreciate the way he’d just assumed I’d enjoy going to a karaoke club. Seriously, who does that kind of thing on a first date? I was also more than a little irritated by his assumption that I wanted a career in music. If that were the case, wouldn’t I have been hitting the pavement, looking for gigs, making demos, or whatever else would-be performers did?
Frankly, I didn’t know why anyone would even want to be famous in this day and age. Paparazzi camped out on your doorstep so you practically had to hire a stylist to lay out your clothes before you left the house to empty your trash? No, thanks. I supposed there were some celebrities who managed to escape the insanity, but that was probably because they moved to Montana or something. Well, there was some fine irony, wasn’t there? If I were only going to end up back in Montana in an attempt to elude the perils of fame, why the hell did I move out here in the first place?
The cell phone cut off after the fourth ring. Five rings, and it would have gone to voicemail. So maybe he’d given up when he realized I wasn’t going to pick up the phone.
I knew things would never get to a point where I’d be dodging paparazzi, of course. My voice was good, sure. So were the voices of about a thousand other women who probably wanted to succeed as a singer far more than I did. Just because you were good at something didn’t necessarily mean it would end up being your life’s work. I mean, my mother makes killer fried chicken, but you didn’t see her opening up a string of fried-chicken restaurants across the Northwest.
Then the phone rang again, this time the requisite five times. A short while later, it beeped, indicating that whoever was calling had left a message. Whoever? That was a joke. Of course it had to be Jonah.
I’d listen to it eventually, but in the meantime I had a load of darks to get in. And no doubt Leslie would wander over at some point after her hangover wore off so she could get the dirt on my date. Too bad there wasn’t much dirt to shovel.
But even after I got back up to my apartment, there was no sign of Leslie, and no messages from her, either. I went back outside, walked down to her place, and knocked on the door. Nothing. Well, there was always the chance she’d crashed at Joe’s house. He lived out in North Hollywood, too, not far from Leslie’s brothers’ bachelor pad, and if he’d given up on the whole designated driver thing, I could see why they’d end up there, where they only had to drive a few blocks. It wouldn’t be the first time one of his attempts at being responsible had failed. Joe tended to fall down on the follow-through.
Since I knew the beeping on my cell phone would drive me crazy after a while, I went ahead and retrieved Jonah’s message. I’d have to call him back at some point. Difficult as it might be to talk to him, I knew I couldn’t leave him hanging. That was just rude.
He sounded way too cheerful—said it was tough to get in contact with people on the weekend, but he had some prospects he could call on Monday morning. Oh, but I really needed a demo tape, and he doubted I had one, but he had a friend who worked at a local radio station who could smuggle us in tonight. No one was around to use the recording equipment on Sunday evenings anyway. But I really needed to call him so he could get it set up, and maybe we could grab a bite to eat beforehand….
Oy, gevalt, I thought, and then grinned. Leslie really was beginning to rub off on me.
A demo tape? Was he serious?
Of course he was. Actually, I got the feeling that Jonah always needed something to be obsessing over, and since he was between A.D. gigs, he might as well obsess over me until something else came along.
Maybe that was being a bit uncharitable. Maybe he really thought there was something going on between us. After all, I had let him kiss me goodnight. Not that I’d had much chance of stopping him, short of a quick knee to the groin. The situation hadn’t called for anything that drastic. It wasn’t as if I’d discovered he was a serial killer or something. I just decided he wasn’t the guy for me.
At that thought I got a swift mental image of Van Rijn’s blue eyes, the tanned skin of his throat against the open collar of his white shirt. Oh, but Pieter Van Rijn is the guy for you, I jeered at myself. Yeah, right. Pretty as that fantasy might be, that’s all it was—a fantasy. He could have kissed me Friday night in the parking lot, and he didn’t. Hell, he could have kissed me yesterday when I went to get the keys to the office from him. But he didn’t. It was all business as usual. And if I had a lick of sense, as my Uncle Bret might say, I’d spend the time Van Rijn was away forcing myself to remember that’s all it was. Business.
I wondered what he was doing. Certainly he had to be in Amsterdam by now, but I couldn’t think what time it might be there. Was there an eight-hour time difference between Europe and the West Coast, or ten? Globe-trotters had been in pretty short supply in my life before I met Van Rijn, so I couldn’t be sure. Still, even eight or ten hours ahead would put him just about right for a late dinner. Was he alone, or did he have someone waiting for him in Amsterdam? Was he even now sitting down with the “hot assistant” Leslie had alluded to? Of course I had no way of knowing, and I felt furious with myself for the little spurt of jealousy that flashed inside me as I considered the notion.
The phone rang, and I jumped. It was the land line, though, not my cell, so I knew it couldn’t be Jonah. I hurried over and allowed myself a quick peek at the caller I.D. My mother. It always amazed me how she knew the exactly wrong time to call. I loved my mother, but timing had never been one of her strong suits.
Not taking the call would only prolong the inevitable, however. I picked up the handset. “Hi, Mom.”
“So how’s the job?”
Trust her to get right to the meat of the issue. “It’s great,” I replied. “My boss is going to be in Europe all next week.”
She laughed. “Well, that should make it easy on you.”
“Sort of. But I have to keep an eye on everything for him. It’s a lot of responsibility.” As I told her this, I wondered again at Van Rijn leaving everything in my hands in such a precipitous way. Was this a test? If I messed up, did that mean I would be out on my ass when he got back into town?
Her voice was soothing. “I’m sure you’ll do fine. We’re very proud of you for finding such a great position.”
I didn’t know about that. How much of my current situation was pure dumb luck…or, as Leslie had commented a few days ago, maybe my having a great rack? I couldn’t even take credit for that; it was just luck of the genetic draw. Of course, having a mother who had been Miss Billings 1976 probably helped. I cleared my throat. “So how is everyone over there?”
“Great, j
ust wonderful. That’s why I’m calling. We just found out Ellen is pregnant! She’s due in mid-February, so we’d really like for you to come out then if you can. It’s not every day you become an auntie for the first time.”
The thought of facing Billings in the dead of winter wasn’t exactly appealing, but I knew I’d have to try to be there. I would have been more shocked at the whole “Auntie Katherine” thing if I hadn’t known Ellen and her husband Terry had been trying for a while to get pregnant. Actually, keen as Ellen had been to start a family, I guess I should have been relieved she didn’t walk down the aisle already knocked up. That they’d waited a whole eighteen months before getting pregnant spoke of Herculean restraint. Or maybe just bad timing for baby-making procedures.
“Of course,” I said automatically, since I knew that was what my mother wanted to hear. “Are you ready to be a grandmother?”
“Not really, but I suppose I’ll adjust soon enough.” Another laugh. “Actually, with Alex hitting thirty this year, I suppose I should have been prepared. Not that I expect a grandchild out of him any time soon.”
That was the understatement of the year. Ellen and I had speculated more than once whether Alex might be gay. He hadn’t dated anyone while he was still living in Billings, and there hadn’t been much hint of a love life after he went to Berkeley, either. Maybe he was just asexual. Certainly he’d always seemed way more interested in computers than people.
“And what about you?” my mother asked.
“Me?”
“Any prospects?”
I knew she wasn’t talking about babies…rather, just the other half of the equation required to make one. “Not really,” I said. I didn’t want to get into the whole Jonah thing.
My mother would probably have a hard enough time wrapping her brain around the fact that I’d gone out with the son of the man who produced the Lone Justice movies. Telling her that I didn’t want to see Jonah a second time just wouldn’t compute. Of course she would deny it if I ever confronted her about the situation, but the truth of the matter was that she always made way more allowances for the guys I’d dated who had money than the ones who were scraping through MSUB on scholarships. I’d always wondered whether her prejudices sprang from the fact that she’d expected more from my father than she actually ended up getting. Supposedly he’d been quite the financial whiz back in the day, and maybe she thought he was going to end up as an investment banker or a real estate tycoon or something. But he’d been content (as far as I could tell, anyway) to work as a middle manager. While we’d always had a comfortable life, it might not have been exactly what she, as a former Miss Billings, had thought she was signing up for.
I wondered then what she’d think of Pieter Van Rijn and decided it was probably better not to go there.
“I’m just trying to focus on work for right now,” I added, and hoped my comment didn’t come across quite as lame to her as it did to me.
Her reply sounded falsely hearty. “Well, I suppose that’s smart, since you’re just starting out. Still, I can’t help worrying with you all alone out there—”
We’d had this discussion roughly a hundred times before, so I knew I had to head her off at the pass. “I’m not alone,” I said. “I’ve got Leslie just three doors down, and Alex is only an hour away by air if something dire happens.”
“Well, Alex,” my mother said, and then trailed off. I think she was still somewhat befuddled that her womb had produced someone as unlike her as my older brother. I suppose when you threw my father’s math genes into the mix, Alex’s computer genius was a little more plausible, but I had a feeling she would have been happier with him being the high school quarterback.
I went on, “We email all the time. We keep in touch. So I don’t feel all that alone.” So I was stretching the truth just a wee bit. Yes, Alex and I did exchange the odd email…about once a month. But my mother didn’t have to know that.
Mercifully, my cell phone rang. I said, “Can you hold on, Mom? I’ve got another call coming in—”
“Oh, I’ll let you go. I just wanted to let you know about Ellen’s good news. I’m sure she’ll call soon.”
“Great!” I chirped, although I selfishly hoped I could put off that conversation for awhile. Knowing my sister, it would consist of a lengthy description of her pregnancy symptoms, followed by some not-so-subtle prodding to get me to move back to Billings. Ellen had so far been unable to comprehend why on earth I’d want to move so far away from home, and I had a feeling this time I’d get a healthy portion of guilt about not being there for my first niece or nephew. Of course I was happy for her, but her headlong rush into domesticity and a family puzzled me just as much as my desire to get out of Montana had mystified her.
My mother and I made our goodbyes. I grabbed my cell phone and flipped it open without even bothering to look to see who was calling. My impetuosity was rewarded by the sound of Jonah’s voice.
“Don’t you check your messages?”
Well, shit. “Uh, sure…guess I just didn’t see that I’d missed a call. I’ve been in and out with the laundry.”
A barely perceptible sigh. “My friend Tom can get us into the radio station where he works so we can put a demo together for you. You really need that before you start talking to agents.”
“Look, Jonah, I appreciate your going to all this trouble, but—”
“It’s no trouble.”
I repressed the urge to scream. Obviously the only thing that would work here was brutal honesty. “Jonah, have you ever stopped to consider the fact that I don’t really care about being a singer?”
Dead silence.
Gathering my breath, I went on, “I’m terrified of singing in front of people. Really. The only reason you got me on stage last night was because I was on my third drink by then. Otherwise, forget about it.”
“Oh, there are people who can help you with the stage fright,” Jonah replied. His tone became coaxing. “Come on—it’ll be fun to work in a recording studio. And even if you decide you don’t want to submit your demo to any agents, at least you’ll have it. You can make some copies and send them back to your parents or something. I bet they’d like that.”
Oh, that was underhanded. Of course my parents would be thrilled to get something like that—just about anyone’s parents would. My mother in particular had never understood why I didn’t do more with my singing. She’d even pushed me to enter the Miss Billings pageant, saying that I’d be a shoo-in for the talent portion of the contest.
“I tap danced, but you’re a better singer than I was a dancer,” she’d admitted, and her gaze had flickered to the display case where her tiara rested in forlorn splendor.
I would have rather been boiled in oil than enter a beauty pageant, and I’d told her as much. Tempers had flared, but luckily my father stepped in to say that of course no one was pressuring me and that I was free to do what I wanted. Blessed are the peacemakers, and all that. My mother got the point and backed off, but I think deep down she’d never forgiven me for passing on a chance to have a two-generation sweep of her former crown.
“Well—” I said. I could feel myself wavering and hated it. Damn, why did Jonah have to know exactly the right way to guilt me into the project?
No doubt Leslie would have said it was because he was Jewish. “We Jews cornered the market on guilt,” she told me once. “We should teach Learning Annex courses in it or something.”
“Oh, come on. It’ll be fun.”
Somehow I doubted that, but I couldn’t think of a good way to back out of the scheme. Anyway, how bad could it be? If it was a real recording studio, I’d be in a separate room with headphones stuck on my ears. I wouldn’t even have to watch Jonah’s and this unknown Tom’s reactions to my singing if I didn’t want to. And, as Jonah had pointed out, my parents would be thrilled to get a demo tape from me. They’d probably play it for all their friends, but if I didn’t have to be there to watch their reactions, I was okay with that.
> “Oh, all right,” I said.
“Great. Can I pick you up at eight? We can grab something to eat before we head over to the station.”
In for a penny, I reflected, but I knew there was no way to escape dinner without causing a lot of unnecessary drama. Actually, I should be grateful he was giving me the opportunity to end things in person. I’d do the damn demo so I’d have something I could send to my parents, and then I’d be done. What was another hour out of my life? As long as I made it really clear to Jonah at the end of the evening that I just wasn’t interested in a romantic relationship, we should be good, right?
“Sounds like a plan,” I replied.
“See you then. It’ll be fun. I promise.”
Somehow I highly doubt that, I thought, but of course I didn’t say it out loud. “See you then,” I said, and hung up.
Great. There must have been some way I could’ve worked it so we’d go straight to the radio station and not to dinner first, but I couldn’t think of it at the moment. I didn’t have much experience dealing with Jonah Freeman levels of persistence.
There wasn’t much I could do about it now, short of calling him back and canceling the whole thing. Better to stick with my original plan and somehow come up with a way to let him down gently at the end of the evening. Under different circumstances I might have felt guilty about having a guy take me out just so I could dump him when the date ended. In this case, despite Jonah’s current “between jobs” status, I was fairly certain buying me dinner wasn’t going to cause him any financial hardship.
In the meantime I had plenty to keep me occupied, starting with the loathsome laundry. I sighed and picked up the laundry basket, wondering as I did so if Pieter Van Rijn had ever been forced to deal with his own dirty clothes. Somehow I doubted it.
Between laundry, housework, and grocery shopping, I managed to use up most of my day. Leslie finally appeared around two, looking a little ragged around the edges. But she insisted she was fine and wanted to know how my date had gone. I told her not so great, and she widened her eyes at me when I added that I was going back out with Jonah tonight.
Fringe Benefits Page 11
