by Witt, L. A.
Jesus, how could I have been so stupid? I’d balked at dating her because I knew this would happen. That just when I got in too deep, that would be the moment a man turned her head. I had, and he had, and here we were. Awesome.
I threw myself into my work. There wasn’t much else I could do. I was directing again. The studio was piling more and more crap on my desk. Finn was being . . . Finn. So I worked, and I tried not to think about Natalya, or look at her, or . . .
Yeah, right.
We couldn’t avoid each other. Not when I was directing an episode full of major stunts.
More than all the other bullshit, putting on a professional front around Natalya was exhausting. It was hard as hell, but I played the consummate professional. So did she. Neither of us could get away with open contempt like the male crew members could. We’d be branded bitches who were impossible to work with, and that wasn’t a reputation any woman in show business needed. Not that either of us needed any more pressure or stress right now.
In my office one night—or was it morning?—I sank into a chair and rubbed my temples. I needed some time off. Maybe a day or two to go hiking in the Olympics. Those forests were so thick and quiet, they made me feel like I was millions of miles away from Bluewater Bay. And that was where I needed to be. Somewhere other than here. Somewhere far from here.
Somewhere far from her.
But there were episodes to film and meetings to endure. Calling in sick or taking off on a moment’s notice weren’t options. Our hours were long enough these days that the studio had finally conceded and brought in a second bodyguard so Jeremy had some time off. Which was good—his son was coming into town soon for the summer, and God knew those two needed to spend some quality time together.
Meanwhile, I had an episode to direct. And another to block. And three or four scripts to approve. And meetings with . . . fuck, everyone.
I threw back a couple of ibuprofen, hoping they’d take the edge off the headache and millions of other aches in body parts I’d forgotten I had. Maybe blowing off this much steam at the gym had been a bad idea. Probably was. Especially since it hadn’t done a damn thing except make me hurt all over.
Then I went back to the soundstage. Jeremy followed and didn’t say anything. He’d stayed pretty quiet the last few days. He probably knew what was going on and knew better than to ask about it while I was being run so ragged by my job. That, or he was worried about his kid coming to visit. For both their sakes, I hoped their summer went better than mine promised to.
I’d barely set foot inside the soundstage before Levi pulled me aside.
“Hey.” His eyes darted back and forth. “Can we, um, talk for a few minutes?”
Jesus H. Christ. Now what?
“Sure. Yeah.” I exhaled. “Come on. Let’s go to my office before Finn or someone else wants to talk to me.”
We left the soundstage. Jeremy followed us, of course.
I keyed us into my office and gestured for Levi to go ahead. Then Jeremy and I met each other’s gaze, and he raised his eyebrows.
“I’ll be fine,” I said quietly.
He hesitated, but nodded. He probably knew better than anyone that things were least likely to get out of control when I was alone with Levi. Right about now, a behind-closed-doors meeting with Finn would likely end in bloodshed.
So while Jeremy waited outside, I shut the door and faced Levi. “All right. We’re here. What’s up?”
I thought he might take a seat and get comfortable, but he stayed standing. As he turned around, he folded his arms across his chest, and light glinted off his plain gold wedding ring. “You tell me.”
“Huh? You said—”
“Mm-hmm. We need to talk about you.”
“But . . . you . . .”
“I know you, and I knew if I asked, you’d say you were fine and you were busy.” He waved a hand. “So now that you’re not busy, let’s cut to the chase. You’re not fine.” He arched an eyebrow. “What’s going on?”
I glared at him. Son of a bitch. “Nothing, okay?”
“Right.”
My stomach fell to my feet. There was no getting anything past Levi, but I was hurting way too much to talk about this with him or anyone else. I just wanted to curl up under my desk and cry.
“Look.” He held my gaze. “Everybody’s already scared of Natalya. Having the two of you at each other’s throats isn’t doing much for morale.”
I laughed humorlessly, lowering my eyes and warning myself not to tear up. “Sorry.”
“I’m pretty sure Ginsberg thinks she’s going to dangle him from a building or something just to blow off steam.” Levi touched my arm. “So, what’s going on between you two?”
“Nothing.”
He shot me a don’t-fucking-lie-to-me glare. “Do I look stupid?”
I put up my hands. “Nothing’s going on now. There . . . there was something. But it’s over.”
“Mm-hmm. A few days ago, you were dancing with her at my wedding, looking happier than I’ve ever seen you. And now it’s over?” He tilted his head. “What happened?”
Blowing out a breath, I slouched against my desk. I told him the whole story, from our first hiccup-breakup to the aftermath of her flirting with Daniel.
When I was done, I was even more exhausted. I ran a tired hand through my hair. “So, that’s that. I knew I couldn’t deal with dating a bi woman, and then I tried to, and it blew up in my face.” I sat on the edge of my desk, folded my hands in my lap, and shrugged, wondering when my shoulders had gotten so heavy. “Not sure what else I can say.”
“I see.” He studied me for a moment. “You know, they say when the student is ready, the master will appear. I’m starting to believe that when someone draws a line they won’t cross in a relationship, the love of their life will appear on the other side of that line.”
I glared at him. “You been talking to Jeremy?” I gestured at the door dividing us from my ever-present bodyguard.
Levi shook his head. “Why? Did he say the same thing?”
“Pretty close, yeah.”
“So you’ve heard it from two people. Have you thought that maybe we’re right?”
I tightened my arms across my chest. “So what am I supposed to do? Compromise on something that bothers me that much?”
“Well, why does it bother you so much?”
“Why shouldn’t it?” I threw up my hands, groaning with exasperation. “I told you, every damn bi woman out there eventually winds up with a man.”
His eyebrow arched. “Every one of them?”
I scowled, teeth clenched with frustration. “Every one I’ve ever known.”
Levi inclined his head. “So, you’re saying you’re not attracted to any other women while you’re in a relationship.”
“What? Of course I am.” Still sitting against my desk, I fidgeted uncomfortably. ”Aren’t you still attracted to other men while you’re with Carter?”
“That’s exactly my point. We’re all still attracted to people even when we’re with someone else. It’s human nature. You just can’t stand that Natalya is still attracted to people you can’t compete with.”
We locked eyes.
Then he chuckled softly. Cautiously. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this day.”
“What day?” I gripped the edge of my desk with both hands. I’m so going to smack you, asshole. “What are you talking about?”
He smiled. “Today’s the day I get to return the favor after all the times you’ve told me to pull my head out of my ass before I fucked up a relationship beyond repair.”
I glared at him. “Be serious, Levi.”
“I am, actually.” He stepped closer and put a hand on my shoulder. Speaking softly now, he said, “I saw you two at the wedding. I saw you with little hearts floating above your head. You can play tough and dismissive and tell me all day long that you don’t want to be with her because she’s bisexual, but I’m not buying it. I know you, and I know
this is tearing you up.” He squeezed gently, looking right in my eyes. “And we both know that it’s up to you to fix it, or you’re going to regret losing her for the rest of your life.”
“We’re not right for each other.” My voice sounded pitiful and shaky. I tried to emphasize my indifference with a shrug, but my shoulders were heavy, and not just because Levi’s hand was still there. “I’m gay. She’s bi. It’s—”
“Bullshit.”
“What?”
He rolled his eyes. “For God’s sake, do you hear yourself?”
I watched him, waiting for him to elaborate.
Levi sighed. “When you’re dating another lesbian, the only competition is other women. But Natalya likes men too, and the things that attract her to men aren’t going to be the same things that attract her to women. Which means there’s nothing you can do to compete with them.”
“Yes. I know. That’s why I—”
“I’m not finished,” he said tersely. “Anna, you need to trust Natalya the way you’d trust any other woman—that she’s not going to run off on you with anyone, male or female. That no matter who catches her eye or turns her head, she’s still going to come back to you because she loves you and because she says she will.”
He paused. “You remember those dark days many years ago when we tried to date each other?” He offered a slight, if uneasy smirk, as if to let me know it was okay to laugh.
I tried but failed. “Yeah. I remember.”
“And why didn’t it work out?”
Hugging myself, I kept my gaze down. “Because we’re both gay.”
“Exactly. You couldn’t change it. I couldn’t change it. And Natalya can’t change her sexuality either. I mean, you can’t imagine being attracted to a man, but can you imagine not being attracted to women?”
I hesitated but looked at him. “No.” God, fuck you, Levi. I don’t need you to be right. Just let me . . . be miserable and stupid. Releasing my breath, I stared down at the ratty carpet. “No, I can’t.”
“And do you think I can imagine not being attracted to a man?” He touched my arm. “So it’s not exactly fair to expect Natalya to—”
“It’s not that I expect her to only be attracted to women.” I shrugged out of his grasp and met his gaze. “I just can’t be with a woman who’s also attracted to men.”
Levi exhaled hard. “Anna . . .” He shook his head. “Seriously. Do you hear yourself?”
“I hear myself just fine!”
“Do you? Then how is what you’re doing any better than what homophobes have done to us over the years?”
“What?” I sputtered, and hoisted myself off the desk. “I am not being homophobic, I—”
“No, you’re being biphobic.”
I glared at him. “You know damn well I’m not.”
Levi arched an eyebrow, and a note of irritation worked its way into his voice. “Actually, you are. And I say this as someone who is bisexual.”
My jaw fell open. “You— What?”
“Does that change anything about me? About how likely I am to make things work with Carter?”
“But you . . .” I sputtered. “You never told me . . .”
“Because I know how you feel about bisexuals.”
My heart sank. “Oh my God. Levi. I am so sorry. I . . .”
“It’s not a big deal,” he said. “I’m with Carter, and whether or not I’d ever date a woman again is a moot point. Because I have no desire to be with anyone but him. Which is why I think all of your arguments against dating Natalya pretty much boil down to biphobic bullshit.”
I leaned against my desk, rubbing a hand over my face. “Wow.”
“Because that’s what it is.” His voice was gentler now. “Think about it. How is refusing to date a bi woman—based on assumptions and stereotypes—not biphobic?”
“It’s . . .” I dropped my hand. “I am so sorry.”
“I know. And I know you’re just trying to protect yourself.” He squeezed my arm. “If you don’t want to date her, then don’t. But quit hiding behind her sexuality and admit the real reason.”
I swallowed. “I assume you think you know the real reason?”
“I’m pretty damn sure I do.”
Through my teeth, I said, “Well . . .?”
“Because you’re insecure. Her attraction to men is something you can’t control. You can’t compete with a man the same way you can compete with a woman. So, in your mind, that means—”
“Isn’t that a reasonable thing to be concerned about?”
“No.” His brow pinched slightly, and his voice was gentle as he said, “By your logic, Natalya’s ex could say he lost his girlfriend to a lesbian.”
I shifted my weight, the floorboards creaking beneath the carpet. “He . . . Yeah. He could.” Or he could say he lost her to being an asshole.
Kind of like I’m . . .
I cringed. Fuck.
“The thing is,” Levi went on, “if someone’s going to cheat, or if they’re going to leave because they think the grass is greener, then they’re going to. It doesn’t make a difference if they’re chasing someone with more money, or a different figure, or a different set of plumbing.” He gestured at me. “What you’re doing is killing any chance of that relationship even happening so you don’t have to be worried about what you can’t control. Which, well, kind of makes sense coming from you.”
I stiffened, clenching my teeth. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you have to be in control. That’s always been you.”
“What? I do not.”
He chuckled. “Please. You’re a director and a producer. You’re basically one coup and a fancy uniform away from being the dictator of a small country.”
A laugh burst out of me. “I’m not that . . . I mean, I don’t . . .”
The skepticism in his eyes shut me up.
I cleared my throat. “I think you’ve got me confused with Natalya.”
He shook his head slowly, eyes never leaving mine. “Natalya’s blunt and doesn’t take any shit from people, but you’re literally the one running the show out there. That takes a certain kind of person. You’ve always had a need to be in control. It’s perfect for your profession, but it’s disastrous for your relationships.” He inclined his head, and his brow creased. “Look what happened with Leigh.”
I flinched.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “You know I’m not saying this to rub salt in the wound, but you really need to look at what happened between the two of you.”
“So you’re saying the breakup was my fault?”
“I’m saying your personalities were like oil and water. She contributed her fair share to fucking things up, but come on, Anna.” His brow creased. “Think about it. You’ve ruled everything in your life with an iron fist. Including Leigh. And if you don’t fix this, it’s going to drive away the woman I think we both know you love.”
As his words sank in, my heart sank too.
“And if I know you,” he said, “there is nothing in the world that scares you more than feeling this strongly for someone and not being able to control the outcome.”
“It’s terrifying,” I said, barely whispering.
“It is. I mean, there are literally millions of people out there—men and women—who want Carter. Believe me, I could drive myself insane if I spent any time in certain corners of social media.” He paused. “Hell, there’s an entire site out there devoted to Carter-Ari fanfic, not to mention Carter-with-anyone-other-than-me fanfic.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep.”
“Doesn’t that bother you?”
“Why should it?” He shrugged. “It’s other people’s fantasies. And besides, I trust Carter. That’s all I have to do. People can pursue him, send him love letters, flirt with him, but I know that at the end of the day, Carter’s coming home to me.” He inclined his head. “And despite the fact that I’m bi, he trusts me.”
I broke e
ye contact, chewing the inside of my lip.
“I know it’s terrifying.” He touched my shoulder. “But you can’t control her any more than I can control Carter. You just have to trust her. And a lesbian could cheat on you just as easily as a bisexual woman.”
“I know. I know, but . . .” I exhaled and ran my fingers through my hair as I slumped against my desk again. “But there’s so much more to it. Being in a hetero relationship is so much easier than being in a queer one. How do I know she won’t—”
“Stop,” he said gently. “You’ll drive yourself insane asking how do you know she won’t do this or she will do that. That’s part of what it means to be in a relationship with someone. Relinquishing that control and saying, ‘I can’t control you, I can’t watch your every move, but I trust you.’”
I kept my gaze down. I’d never quite figured out how to hold on to a relationship. Letting go of someone, and somehow believing they’d come back—that was the hard part, wasn’t it?
Levi took my hand. “Anna, you will never be in complete control of a relationship. And quite honestly, I don’t think you’d ever be happy in a relationship where you were.”
I looked at him. “What do you mean?”
He smiled. “I know you. You like a challenge. You like people who have opinions and minds of their own. Anyone else bores you to death.” The smile fell. “But being with someone like that means loosening the reins, or you’re both going to be miserable.” He squeezed my arm. “You remember that speech Carter gave at the wedding?”
“How could I forget?”
He tipped my chin up so our eyes met. “So you remember what he said about things that could’ve happened to keep him and me from ever crossing paths? All the ways it could’ve just . . . never happened?”
I nodded as much as I could with his finger beneath my jaw.
“So think of all the ways you and Natalya could have never found each other. But you did.” He lowered his hand. “I don’t know if it’s fate or not. All I know is you found this amazing woman who’s everything you want except for one minor detail—and don’t argue with me, Anna. It is a minor detail.” He arched his eyebrow, daring me to argue with him anyway. When I didn’t speak, he went on. “She’s perfect for you. She makes you so weak in the knees I can see it from a mile away. There’s no telling if it’ll work out in the long run, but why would you give it up? Maybe it isn’t meant to be, but it’s trying pretty damned hard to be. If you keep fighting it until you lose her forever, then I’d bet good money you’ll be regretting it just like I would’ve regretted losing Carter.”
