Remake

by A. J. Sand

  “I saw that!” Erica yelled and he only laughed in response. She slipped on a pair of wedges, pulled her hair into a ponytail and grinned in satisfaction at catching on to his plot as she swung the bedroom door open. “Don’t you jump out of anywhere, Bry—”

  An involuntary gasp swallowed the rest of her words when she stepped into the hallway and discovered a single strand of twinkle lights running between their bedroom and the front door. He was gone. Then the string of lights was taped against the door to form an arrow. Erica opened the front door and looked down the hallway on either side.

  “Oh! Arrow! The roof deck.” She took the elevator up, and when she stepped outside, her knees went weak and her breaths hitched on the way out. Under a cascade of white twinkle lights draping down the sides of a translucent tent, sat an indoor picnic setup: Large square throw pillows and ottomans arranged over a gingham blanket, with a tray of fresh fruits, glasses and beers.

  It. Was. Beautiful.

  As her heart filled her chest, keeping her breathless, Erica flicked away a tear. God, this man of hers. She had mentioned just a few days ago how the thing she hated most about L.A. was having to go so far outside of it to see an actual starlit night. When Erica stepped into the tent, she spotted Bryson in the corner, looking quite pleased with her reaction.

  “Not the type you expect to see in L.A., huh?”

  “Bryce…” Erica said as she walked over to him and threw herself into his arms. Oh my God. This is… Wow.”

  “I know, I tricked you.” He kissed her forehead. “But I wanted to have dinner with you under the stars tonight. Just the two of us. You look amazing, baby.” As she looked up, he locked his arms across her abdomen from behind. “You didn’t take as long as I expected, so the food isn’t here yet.”

  “I was proving a point.” Erica clutched his arms tighter against her body like it was armor, a shield to whatever madness existed outside the two of them. She needed to just feel him and take note of everything she had. Sometimes, at her most vulnerable, she felt like any minute something would snatch all of it away, and they would only have these moments as memories in the end.

  “Piccolo?” she asked.

  “Yup.” Bryson kissed her ear. “So, do you like this?”

  “I love it.”

  “I’m just glad they let me do it on such short notice. You’ve got to book the rooftop weeks in advance, and they have to clear the furniture out and clean the place. I’ve been going back and forth between our place and here all day with a few of the guys on our floor, trying to make sure it was perfect.”

  “Thank you so much. I don’t even know what to say.”

  “I know, I know…I keep ruining my image as a stupid, spoiled rich kid,” he said, with faux frustration in his tone.

  “You’re such a disappointment.” She swiveled around and brought his lips to hers in a slow, stirring kiss that absorbed them both until the food arrived. Erica shook her head in disbelief when he went to greet the delivery guy downstairs, trying to take it all in. It was like being somewhere else entirely. Even the noises from the street seemed muted. Erica didn’t recognize the pillows and blanket, so those were new, which meant he had gotten them specifically for tonight.

  Erica enjoyed the glitz of their lifestyle, and they could’ve strolled into any restaurant tonight without a reservation, like they sometimes did, but he had wanted to do this for her because he knew how much she needed to balance it with a quiet life. That usually meant having to travel. There would never be enough words to tell him how much tonight meant to her.

  “Ready?” he asked when he brought the bags of food up.

  “Smells amazing! I’m excited.”

  “Wait!” He set the bags down and situated the large throw pillow against a pouf ottoman to keep it upright for her back. “Okay, there ya go, babe...” Once she sat, he took his place across from her and uncapped their beers. The food turned out to be their favorites—pesto for her and ravioli for him—and he had even doubled up on the garlic bread because she always engorged herself with it when they visited Piccolo. Even though she had put in some effort with her look in preparation for tonight, she actually preferred this to the restaurant. At least here they could laugh as loud as they wanted and be obnoxious by slurping spaghetti and feeding each other as they talked. Bryson told her he had acquired several new clients for Xcel, the talent management firm he worked for, and Erica was excited for Kai’s tour in several months.

  “He wants to come over for dinner the next time he’s in L.A,” Erica said.

  “Oh yeah? Good. I’ll cook.”

  “I have really opened Pandora’s box with this cooking thing.”

  Bryson smirked with playful indignation. “I had an interest in cooking before you got here...sort of! I’ve expanded my recipes. You don’t remember how my five-cheese lasagna was a hit at Charlie’s place?”

  Nodding, Erica laughed. “Everyone thought I made it!”

  “Baby, I was so pissed! Not happening again. If Kai’s coming here, you’re telling him and Lee ahead of time that I’m the one making dinner.”

  “Okay, okay! Sensitive chef alert.” Erica held her hands up in surrender. “So, he and I had our first fight as colleagues… It was weird because Kai and I were both clearly trying to keep the other calm. Sometimes it’s hard to separate the artist from my best friend. But he doesn’t see what I see in him and it’s frustrating. Because of everything in his past, I think he feels undeserving, so he doesn’t really push himself like he should. He’s so hesitant about these opportunities that come his way. It was like pulling teeth to convince him that the Lava movie project was a good idea.”

  “You guys will adjust, but it’s hard working for a friend or anyone you know personally. Trust me, I used to intern for Jeff Ellis.” He traced the soft spaces between her fingers before raising her hand to his mouth. “He’s not allowed to yell at you, though, okay? Even as your boss,” Bryson said, smiling and placing intermittent kisses on the back of her hand between his words. “He’ll have me to deal with after that…and yes, I know you can take care of yourself. It’s one of the things I’ve loved most about you. From day one.”

  Day one. That seemed like forever ago. “Remember the first time I came over here and the place was such a mess, and you tried to cover it by saying the housekeeper just hadn’t come yet? I just kept rolling my eyes...” Erica said, giggling. She moved to sit astride him, with her legs in a V over his. “…And groaning over and over in my head. I couldn’t wait to tell my friends.”

  Bryson strokes one of her thighs and hid his face in his other hand. “Oh my God, we hadn’t known each other more than a few days, and I just knew I was never going to see you again. I was devastated.”

  “You were really worried about losing me that soon?”

  Bryson nodded. “Erica, I had seen you walk in a few shows, and the way everyone just kind of gravitated toward you, it made me want to know you so badly. I had heard that you were this go-getter, and I was just this cocky college kid used to getting what he wanted—”

  “With a bit of a model fetish,” she teased.

  He looked up and smiled. “Yeah… true. But I wanted to impress you. And I felt like we’d had this perfect date, and then I fumbled it because not only was I messy, but I also had a maid, so I wasn’t even responsible enough to clean up after myself.” His laughter was flat. “My heart was breaking.”

  “But I stayed…” She kissed his knuckles.

  “You never left, babe.” Bryson pulled her into his lap completely and her chest was against his. He kissed a corner of her mouth first then drew her bottom lip in between his two before finally letting their mouths settle into a passionate rhythm. It seared her inside out, but he pulled away to clear their plates, departing the tent with a lingering, mysterious grin.

  “Whoa, way to leave me on first base, Ellis,” Erica joked, and he started to speak on his return, but his cell rang, and she gestured that it was okay for him to answer.


  “Yeah, hey, you’re interrupting dinner with my girl, so this better be good. Nope, the counteroffer hasn’t changed, and your boss is crazy if he thinks Kimberly Britton is even going to consider that. No. I’m not running that by her. Look, Trick Ad Agency and I are pitching the campaign to them on Tuesday, so Monday’s your deadline. Try again…”

  She watched him for a moment, loving how swiftly he could go from romantic to bulldog, before she lay back on the blanket to stare up at the star-speckled top, and a sudden rush of gratitude for him consumed her, which resulted in tears coursing down her face. She was happier than she had ever been. This was the life she had always dreamed of. She had a great job. Great friends. And someone who loved her more than she knew was imaginable. It was way more than she had asked for. And having it all scared her. Made her reluctant to relish it.

  “What’s wrong, baby?” He was looking down at her with concern. “You disappointed you got all dressed up for nothing?”

  She shook her head and sat up. Erica tried to still her lip before speaking, but it was no use; her tears were flowing too fast. She gestured at the ceiling, her chest twisting with more emotion than she thought her body could contain. “Stars. You brought me stars,” she finally managed to say through a whimper.

  He shrugged. “My girl wanted stars; she got stars.” Bryson sat behind her and hugged her against him. “I will always give you everything. I always want to do that.” His voice didn’t break, but it was low, nearly a whisper, like he seemed uncertain about being able to do that.

  Erica wriggled out of his arms to face him and she kneeled between his legs. “You have, Bryson, you know that. I just didn’t expect this, so I’m turning into a blubbering idiot. They’re happy tears, promise.”

  But the look in his eye showed that he was struggling to stave off some other worry.

  “Three years ago, the only things I wanted were a job in music, a sick condo, a really nice car and being on the guest list on opening night for every club in this city. They were the only things I aspired to. But I, um, I…” He stopped speaking after he faltered at the end and lowered his gaze until Erica squeezed his hand.

  “It’s okay, baby.” She ticked his chin up with her finger so he could see her smile.

  Bryson’s confidence bloomed and he flashed a smile that didn’t wither. “But I want to get through it. I worked on it all day…so I want to get through it…for you.” Now it was her turn to be nervous as she watched him haul in a deep breath. “But none of that compares to the feeling I get when we make eye contact across the room. And sometimes you roll over and hold on to me in your sleep because you're having a bad dream, and the minute I kiss your forehead you always relax. Or when I’m having a bad day, I just imagine your laugh or how you look when I make you laugh. The things that matter most in this world—the way another person can make you feel—are intangible, and hard to describe, but we recognize them the minute we find them because we're wired to. And because you’re that for me, you’ve made my world a place that can’t exist without you.” Bryson transitioned to a knee. “You are it for me, Erica Anne; you’re my forever. And I want to be yours, too.”

  All her thoughts fizzled away, and her mouth felt like she was storing cotton in her cheeks. “Ho…ly fuck. Yes. Yes.”

  He laughed as his trembling hand tore a ring from his pocket. “Okay, so there’s more, but I guess you know—”

  “Yes.” She nodded furiously and was glad to be sitting since the roof felt like it was on the verge of crashing through the building. “Yes, Bryson. Yes. Yes. Yes.”

  He hung his head and his shoulders shook. “You’re a ruiner of things, E,” Bryson said, rolling his eyes when he looked up, but they were so bright, so full of relief. How could he even question for a second what her answer would be? And how could she not have known after the peculiarity of today? “So, marry—”

  “Yes!”

  Bryson gave up with a light chuckle and pushed the ring down on her finger, but his nervousness was plain on his face again. “I emailed Jamie and Odette all week. They said you’d never go for something huge. They said you’d want this one. Odette threatened my life otherwise. Do you like it?”

  Her nod was slow as she stared at it. There was one square-shaped diamond on a thin silver band. She knew absolutely nothing about engagement rings, and she had never gone out and scouted the one of her dreams, but it was still absolutely perfect.

  Because it was from—

  “Erica!” A large set of knuckles pounded on the driver’s side window of Fitz’s car and Erica screamed. How long had she been sitting in the parking lot outside her apartment building? She hadn’t even turned the engine off yet and the car was still rumbling in place. “Hey, Pretty Girl…” the voice called out to her in a slow, whispered lilt.

  Pretty Girl. It was a reference to a song by one of her favorite but now-defunct bands, Birchwood and Benson, and only one person had ever called her that because of that song. Erica gulped down without casting a glance his way, but she pictured his spiky blond hair, cherubic face, and brown eyes. “Hi…” she said, revealing her disgust with a scrunched expression when they made eye contact, “…Chase. And don’t call me that ever again.” He was so foreign to her now—a monstrosity of the person she met in her teens—since years of friendship had been scraped away into oblivion, and that was long before his brother had assaulted her. Now, though, she couldn’t quite piece together the details of their falling out besides just knowing that Chase was an asshole.

  He studied her face with the slant of his head, and she remembered she was still crying. If there was an upside, at least she and Bryson had gotten over the initial meeting. Naomi had been incredibly apologetic for the ex-fiancé ambush when Erica dropped Fitz off, but Erica wasn’t angry at her, she might have been willing to concede that it was actually what she needed; a ripping away of a Band-Aid of sorts. Still, as she had replayed Bryson’s last words over and over to herself on the way to her place, that memory and the one of the night of their engagement had agitated her feelings.

  Erica brushed her forearm across her face as Chase motioned with a finger downward for her to lower the window. No way.

  “We need to talk, E,” he shouted.

  “You can’t call me that, either. Only friends get to do that.” Fear expanded inside her at first—similar to what she had felt the night she placed a frantic call to Kai after running into Chase at a party last year—but rabid anger suddenly gnawed through it. She had pledged to herself that moving back to L.A. would mean doing so without living like some caged bird. Still, it didn’t mean she wanted to run into him already. This was too huge of a city; so how fucking dare he show up here. Erica tensed and tightened her grip on the steering wheel. “You know where I live? Why do you know where I live?”

  “Does it matter?” He shrugged in a calm way that irritated her further. She shifted her gaze to his black Camaro parked in a visitor’s space a few cars down. Had he been following her around? Or had he just parked here and waited for her to return? Either way, it left her unsettled.

  Erica put the window down just a sliver and set the gear to reverse but kept her foot on the brake. “Why are you here?” She suspected she already knew the answer; he was there to do Jeremy’s bidding, but she was curious. She imagined that the confrontation a few months ago at Wintervention, where she had told Jeremy that he wasn’t untouchable, had left him with a few worries.

  Good.

  It was Jeremy’s turn to feel unsteady as the ground crumbled beneath his feet, even thought she was sure that he would imminently unleash some sort of vicious retaliation against her for standing up to him.

  “I know it’s hard for you, but think carefully while I’m talking because once I stop, you have two minutes before I try to run you over. And then don’t come back here. Ever.” She whipped her head around to search the darkness, suddenly wondering if he had come alone. The parking lot was empty, and so quiet that Fitz’s car’s soft engine
sounded like a freight train. Her heart rate ticked up to just shy of frantic. Shit. Maybe not so good.

  One side of his mouth flexed for a beat. “It’ll be quick.” His tone was cold.

  “What do you want?”

  “I came to see how you were settling back in and to remind you of how dangerous this city can be, but then I realized you were the one here making trouble.”

  An ominous chill bit her spine, but she kept her exterior as tranquil and poised as possible. Was he just bluffing, just casting a net of vague threats as payback for confronting his brother? Or was there more behind this visit? Did he somehow know about the investigation in Thailand? It’s not like Erica had specifically told Jeremy that she had reported it or that she was working to keep the investigation active. “Make trouble for who? Jeremy? Because it’s your lowlife brother who seems intent on messing with other people’s lives.”

  Chase held a defiant stare on her until she let Fitz’s car roll backward a few feet. He jogged over to the window once the car was no longer moving, looking a little flustered. “Okay! Look, I came to tell you that you should probably quit poking the bear, Pretty Girl. I’m telling you for your own good. I’m actually trying to be nice because we’ve known each other a long time. Jeremy wants no part of you and Kai, and you two just won’t leave him alone. That stunt you two pulled at Wintervention, made you look bad, you know, not him.”

  “You spend a lot of time defending your brother, you know.”

  Chase smirked. “Yeah, from the lies you’re spreading. I don’t like what I’m hearing about what you’re saying about my brother, Erica.” And there it was. He knew. “Kai tried that years ago. It’s just funny ‘cause neither you nor Kai actually have the clout to get him blackballed anywhere with your bullshit. Kai is a nothing. He’s on the way to the has-been section of music history.”