by Serena Grey
“Jack, I don’t care about that anymore.”
“But I do.” He sighs. “It was different with you. It always was, and I wanted to be the kind of man you deserved, and I tried, for two months. But I knew I was only going to hurt you. You’ve seen my mother. She never kept a man around for more than a few months, and that’s the example I had.”
I shake my head. “Stop it.”
“No.” There is a storm of entreaty in his eyes. “I didn’t want you to love me because I thought you deserved better. I was a fool, and I know you’ve held that against me all this time.”
I shake my head. “Not anymore. I told you. I’ve let it go.”
“What if I don’t want you to? What if…” he trails off, “You have to remember how good we were together.” His eyes are imploring. “I know I messed everything up, but it’s not too late. A few weeks ago, you still cared about me. That day at the Swanson Court, you said that being with me was the best thing that ever happened to you… that can’t have changed.”
“It has.” I hold his gaze. “Jack, I fell in love with someone else.”
His face hardens. “Landon Court doesn’t deserve you.”
“And you do?” I snort. “Don’t make me laugh.”
He looks crushed. “Okay, maybe I don’t deserve you, but I’m not blind. These past few days you’ve been a shadow of yourself. I know about him, Rachel. He’s heartless with women. He’ll use you and then he’ll toss you aside. He has hurt you already, hasn’t he? I know you. I can fucking see it in your face.”
I close my eyes. “You’re only seeing what you want to see.”
“Am I?” he laughs bitterly. “So where is he? This perfect Landon Court? Why are you here with me, if you’re so fucking happy with him?”
If I were a different sort of person, I’d hit him. I want to, very badly, but I clench my fists and grit my teeth. “I’m sorry I listened when you begged me to come with you to see your mother. Clearly, I should have ignored you.”
“Rachel…” he steps towards me and I hold up one hand to stop him.
“Why am I suddenly so important to you, Jack? Because there’s another man in the picture? Someone who maybe, makes you feel insecure?” I watch as his eyes narrow slightly, but I continue, anger and regret for all the months I wasted on him, making me emotional. “Tell me, if I’d never met Landon - If I’d still been waiting on the sidelines, hoping you’d see past your bevy of models and athletes and exotic beauties to notice me, I’d still be right there, wouldn’t I? The only reason you suddenly can’t let me go is that I don’t want you anymore.”
He starts to say something else, but I notice a cab coming down the street and hail it. Luckily, it’s empty and quickly comes to a stop in front of us. Just before I climb in, I give Jack one more glance. He’s watching me, his eyes clouded, his hands shoved into his pockets.
“Goodbye Jack,” I say quietly.
He doesn’t reply.
LANDON Court doesn’t deserve you.
If it wasn't so frustrating, it would be funny how everything always came back to Landon. Even an evening with Jack had somehow managed to devolve into an emotional conversation about Landon.
He’ll use you and then he’ll toss you aside.
It’s not as if I didn’t know that already. I’d spent the past few days pushing Landon away just so I could protect myself from that imminent hurt. But no matter how hard I tried, there he was, in my head, and physically too, refusing to let me go.
I sigh, pushing all my thoughts about Landon, about Jack and his ill-timed realization that we had something ‘good,’ to the deepest darkest recesses of my mind. There, at least, they won’t threaten to drive me insane.
I decide to call my mom, because it’s been a few days, and for some reason, I find myself appreciating her more. She answers on the fourth ring. “Sweetheart,” she coos in her low, smooth voice, and I sigh, feeling homesick.
“Hi, Mom.”
“How are you? I hope there’s nothing wrong.”
I’m tempted to break down and tell her how miserable I am. I hold back, but just barely.
“No. Nothing’s wrong. I’m good. Laurie’s good.”
“You’re fine,” she corrects, then laughs. “I’m glad you’re both okay.” There’s a pause. “Your father and I will be in the city on Thursday. I have an art thing.”
It’s always and ‘art’ thing with my mom. Even showing her work in a prestigious gallery is an ‘art’ thing. I still don’t know if she’s so blasé because of how successful she is, or because she really doesn’t care about events.
I’m in front of my building by now, and I step out of the cab. “Will I see you guys?”
“If you want,” she replies. “You could come with. We’ll pick you up on our way. Laurie too. It’s a black-tie thing at the Remington House.”
“The… what house now?”
She sighs, probably exasperated by my ignorance. “The Remington House is a historic mansion on Fifth,” She informs me. When I don’t say anything in reply, she continues her lecture. “Shelby Remington, the last living member of the Remington family left the house and his entire art collection to the Remington Trust. It’s a museum now. Two Cornelia Eames paintings he lost in a bet a long time ago are being restored to the house. I’m giving a speech.”
At least I know the name of the artist. I’d paid enough attention to my mother’s work over the years to recognize the name of one of the impressionists whose work she studied in college. Cornelia Eames had contributed much more than paintings to art. The Trust she established still sent aspiring artists to art schools in Europe every year.
“I’ll ask Laurie,” I say, letting myself into the apartment. The lights are off, which means Laurie isn’t home yet.
“She needs a night out,” my mom remarks. “There’s no benefit in staying home inside your brain when you’re miserable about a man. She needs to dress up, look beautiful, go out, and maybe flirt a little. It works all the time.”
This is why I can’t tell my mom how broken up I am about Landon. She probably won’t let me rest until she prescribes a remedy to help me find a way out of my heartbreak.
“I’ll let her know.”
“Hmm.” There’s a pause at her end. “I read your article. Good work there, sweetheart. Your dad thinks so too.”
“Thanks,” I say bleakly. How had I thought I could have any conversation, with anyone, without having to talk about Landon and the damned article about his hotel?
It gets worse. “So… how are things with Landon?”
I close my eyes, dreading the answer I have to give. “We’re not seeing each other anymore.”
“Oh!” I can hear the surprise in her voice, and I don’t blame her, just a few days ago, Landon was charming his way through my family. “How are you?”
I try to keep it light. “I’ll survive.”
“He seemed so into you,” she muses. “I was so sure…” She trails off. “Are you okay? Really?”
“Of course,” I say brightly, resisting the urge to tell her everything. “I’m just, you know, trying my best not to think about it.”
She sighs. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow night. I love you, sweetheart, and give Laurie a kiss for me.”
After the call, I change into my nightwear and settle in bed with a book about writing style. I plan to read until I fall asleep, and hopefully be too tired to dwell on Landon. I’m a few minutes into the book when Laurie arrives. She comes straight into my room and drops onto the bed beside me, still wearing her clothes from the office.
“Rough day?”
She sighs. “They’re all rough these days.” She stares at the cover of my book for a minute. “I had dinner with Brett.”
I allow myself to hope, even though her demeanor doesn’t point to an ecstatic reunion. “So, what happened?”
“He told me he saw you at lunch.” She looks at me. “What did he say?”
I shrug. “That he loves you.” I
look at her, “and he really does.” She looks away and I continue. “He’s miserable when you guys fight, and he’s afraid that because you guys have been together for so long, you might have a subliminal desire to break up, which is why you pick fights with him.”
“That’s the part that pisses me off,” Laurie declares, rising from the bed. “He told me the same thing. How can he think that in my subconscious or wherever, I really want to leave him? Like I don’t know my own freaking mind?”
Her temper is getting the best of her. “Laurie, he’s just telling you how he feels.”
“But why should he feel like that?” She frowns. “I don’t fight about ‘little’ things. Letting a co-worker at the gym flirt with him is not a ‘little’ thing. It’s a big deal to me.”
I drop my book. “Maybe make him understand? Tell him how it makes you feel?”
She sniffs, and buries her face in her hands. “I’m tired of fighting,” she cries softly.
Me too. I’m sick of fighting all the feelings tearing me up inside. I wish there was a way to escape, to forget. I sigh, remembering the conversation with my mom. “How do you feel about a black-tie cocktail art-thing on Thursday?”
“Your mom?”
I nod.
“Where?”
“Some historic mansion. They’ll pick us up.” I grin. “So now, we can worry about what to wear and not think about men for tonight at least.”
She looks grateful. “That seriously sounds great.”
WE stay up late, considering and dismissing clothes from our wardrobes, and for a while I manage to forget the numbness inside. We end up going to bed around midnight, after finally deciding on which dresses, shoes and jewelry to wear, and in the morning, we both have to rush to make it out early.
By the time I’m done with the morning meetings with the other members of the writing team, and an intense editing session with Mark, I start to think that maybe it’s time to congratulate myself. I’ve actually managed to go through the whole morning without tormenting myself about Landon. Maybe it’s because I’ve been really busy, but it gives me hope that I can get over him, that maybe with time, I’ll stop thinking about him at all.
I’m still having those thoughts when the package arrives late in the afternoon. It’s a delivery from the Swanson Court International, and the sender is Tony Gillies, Landon’s assistant. Inside is a gilt-edged envelope containing a full access invitation to the grand reopening of the Gold Dust Hotel.
I stare at the back of the invite, at the image of the hotel embossed in gold leaf on the smooth velvety stationery. I close my eyes, suddenly weak with yearning. All of a sudden, my mind is flooded with the memories that week in San Francisco, when it was just me and Landon, and I’d slowly and completely fallen in love with him.
I’m not going to walk away from this.
But I am, and I have. Why was it so hard for him to understand and accept that I want to move on? Why couldn’t he just leave me alone?
Why does everything have to be about what he wants? What about me? I want a chance to get over him, to move on with my life.
I pick up my phone without thinking and dial his number. I wait as the phone rings, my anger slowly plateauing when he doesn’t pick up.
Almost relieved, I place my phone on my desk. I’m probably overreacting, I decide. Maybe the invitation isn’t a big deal. It made sense for me to be at the opening, I’d written an article about the hotel, after all.
I start as the sound of my ringtone breaks into my thoughts. Landon’s name is flashing on the screen. I hesitate for a moment, not sure anymore that I want to talk to him, but finally I pick up the phone and accept the call.
“Hello.”
“Rachel.”
There’s something about the way he says my name. It makes me weak and emotional. I swallow, suddenly at a loss for what to say. Now I can’t remember exactly what I was angry about.
“Rachel,” Landon says again. His voice is cool and controlled, a far contrast to the turmoil I’m feeling. How can he be like that, when I feel like I’m being torn apart?
“I received a delivery of an invitation to the opening of the Gold Dust,” I say, keeping my voice as aloof as I can manage. “I’m assuming it’s a mistake.”
His deep chuckle is followed by a short silence. I shouldn’t have called, I realize suddenly. I could have ignored the package, but I’d wanted any excuse to talk to him, and to hear his voice. I sigh inwardly. He probably knows.
“Why would you assume that?” he asks finally.
I swallow. “Because there’s no reason for me to be there?”
“I want you there,” he says, “with me.”
There’s no doubt in his voice, and the confidence, the certainty… it does things to my insides. “Why?” I ask, my voice low.
“Do I have to tell you?” I hear him sigh. “I want you by my side, and not just at the opening. In fact, forget the invite, Rachel. Just tell me what I have to do, let me know what you want from me.”
I try not to imagine being at his side while he opens his beautiful new hotel. I try not to fall in love with the image of us together. I try not to want it desperately.
“I don’t want anything from you,” I say softly.
“You’re lying,” he says. “I can hear it in your voice.”
“No. I’m not.” I steel myself. “It’s over Landon. It should have been over the moment I left your apartment that first night.” I sigh. “You should never have tried to find me, and I should never have accepted your ridiculous proposal. That’s the truth. What did you think? That you’d ask me to fly across the country with you and suddenly I’d forget…” I trail off.
“Forget what?”
I’m quiet. That I can’t be with you. That I can’t keep on being in love with you. “That I’ve moved on. Because I have moved on, Landon. And you should too.”
He doesn’t reply. “I have a meeting,” he says after a long pause. “We’ll finish this conversation later.”
He’s gone before I can respond.
THERE’S no conversation to finish. There’s nothing else to talk about. By evening, I’m still on edge. My phone is like a bomb about to go off any moment as I wait for Landon to call me back. What did he mean about finishing the conversation? The conversation was already completed.
When my phone rings just as I’m getting ready to go home, my heart jumps, but it’s only Laurie.
“Hello,” I breathe, my voice weak with a mixture of relief and disappointment.
“Hey,” she says. “You ready to leave?”
“Just about.” I frown, “Why?”
“I’m downstairs in the lobby,” she informs me. “I decided to walk, and I thought you might like to join me. So, you need some company for the long walk home? I know I do.”
“I’ll be right down,” I tell her, gathering my things.
In the reception on my floor, there’s a familiar figure stepping into the elevator in front of me. “Hold the elevator,” I call out, the same moment he turns around and I realize that it’s Chadwick.
“Chadwick!”
He grins, putting a hand out to stop the doors. He looks great, his long brown hair drawn into a bun at the back of his head, like some hot new-age guru. His sweet caramel eyes are soft and smiling. “It sounds like you’re happy to see me.”
I join him in the elevator and grab him in a tight hug. My relationship with Chadwick is uncomplicated. I know he’d like to sleep with me, and he takes my refusal to fall into bed with him with good humor. It’s refreshing, with no pressure whatsoever. “I’m always happy to see you, Chad.”
He gives me a sidelong glance. “So… not that I have anything against elevators, but… can I suggest that we go somewhere more private so you can show me how happy you really are?”
I giggle and swat him on the shoulder. “How are you?”
“Still hot for you.” He winks. “How are you?”
“Hanging there.”
“
You ran off,” he says accusingly. “That night at my party. You just disappeared. Almost as soon as you arrived.”
The memories of that night at the Swanson Court come crashing into my head, and Landon. Always Landon. I sigh. “I’m sorry, Chad. I had… Something came up and I had to leave.”
He accepts my excuse with a nod just as the doors swish open and we walk out into the ground floor lobby. Laurie is standing by the self-opening glass doors at the entrance, and she waves as soon as she sees me. I wave back, and Chadwick’s eyes follow the direction, landing on Laurie.
He does a quick double take. “Wow.”
I don’t blame him. Laurie is gorgeous even on the most ordinary days. Right now in her slim-fitting pants and stylish pink blouse, with her hair falling down to her back in soft black waves, she looks exceptional. I give Chadwick a warning look. “Don’t even think about it, she’s my cousin.”
“What an incredible gene pool,” he exclaims softly, following me towards the entrance. Laurie gives him an appreciative once over before turning to me. “You ready?”
“Yeah.” Chadwick is still standing beside me, staring at her, his jaw somewhere on the floor. “Er... This is Chadwick,” I say, somewhat amused. “Chadwick Black. Chad, my cousin Laurie.”
“The Chadwick Black?” Laurie eyes him from head to toe. “Hi.” She draws out the word.
For the first time since I’ve known him, Chadwick looks as if he doesn’t know what to say. “You’re absolutely beautiful,” he says finally.
“I know,” Laurie replies with a laugh.
“Of course you do.” He still looks gobsmacked. “I want to take pictures of you.”
She gives him a small, amused frown. “No.”
“I probably want to marry you.”
“Ha ha,” Laurie grins. “Nope.”
He puts a hand on his chest. “My heart is broken.”
“He’s cute,” Laurie tells me, laughing. She turns back to Chadwick. “Rachel’s told me so much about your work.”
