by Jo Frances
She was glad she was on the same flight as Seymour Brooks. Brooks was the personal assistant to uber-designer Merlin Nast, and they became fast friends the first time she walked the runway for Merlin. Now, as one of Merlin’s favorite “girls” she had been chosen to be a part of his ad campaign for his Spring collection. Which meant that she and Brooks were going to spend the next week together in Bali shooting the ad. Jamie was brooding when he nudged her from across the aisle.
“Maybe you should sleep. It will make the flight go by faster.”
Jamie looked at him sheepishly. “This is me trying to sleep.”
“Seriously? Do you have ADD or something?” He threw his hands up. “I mean, it’s totally cool if you do---I’m just curious because you’re fidgeting like a five year old right now.”
“I’ve got boy problems, Brooks.”
Brooks shook his head. “Oy. Why is it that you models have thousands of men who would do anything to go out with you---but every single one of you has to pick the one guy who’ll make you cry?”
“OK, here’s a good one.” She leaned across the aisle. “What would you say if I told you that I’m having problems with the one who’s supposed to get me over the one who made me cry?”
“I’d say you’re an overachiever.”
Brooks’ seatmate, Trista, the lighting technician, nearly spit up her drink laughing out loud. “Sorry,” she said, making a big display of turning back to her tablet. “I’m going to stop eavesdropping now.”
Brooks handed Trista his napkin. “No, no, don’t pretend, now. We’re in this tin can for the next ten hours, we may as well get friendly.” He turned to Jamie. “Right? I mean, you’ve spent the past two hours bouncing off the walls. Now you can tell us all.”
Maybe it had to do with undressing in front of a room full of people, or the fact that she had read so much about her personal life online already, but Jamie had no qualms about sharing her story.
“OK, so I finally decided to start seeing people again,” she began. “And this guy; a family friend, came over to me and my brother’s house to hang out a couple of days ago. I thought we clicked, but he… he didn’t make plans with me for when I got back from this trip.” She looked at Brooks and Trista expectantly. They stared blankly at her.
After a pause, Brooks asked, “and the rest of the story is…?”
“That’s it.”
Brooks opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Trista put a hand on his arm to silence him. “So, sweetie,” she turned to Jamie. “Does it always go that way for you---you chill with some dude, and then snap, you two are together?”
Jamie was quiet, considering. “I guess so. I’ve really only had one boyfriend, except for one guy when we were broken up---”
“That’s an understatement,” Brooks interrupted her. She knew he was talking about her much publicized fling with Sean Foley, the rock star.
“---and back in high school---”
“Oh my god, please don’t talk about high school,” Trista spat out. “I’m fucking thirty five years old, I can’t have you talking about high school.”
“Sorry.”
In a nicer tone, Trista said, “you go out with a pro basketball player and a rock star---I guess you like those bad boys, huh?”
Jamie shook her head. “But that’s just it! I was with Chase like that,” she snapped her fingers--”and Sean Foley wanted to get serious the first time we went out.”
Brooks and Trista rolled their eyes at each other and Trista said, “Beautiful girl problems.” Then she turned back to Jamie and asked, “so what’s the story with this new guy? You’re feelin’ him?”
“Yeah, I think so.” Jamie remembered how she liked Chase for a while before she found out that he felt the same way about her. But she didn’t really know him, so it was more of an infatuation. Then, when they did spend time together, they pretty much fell in love right away. It had been easy.
What she felt for Adam was different, though. It wasn’t infatuation, and it certainly wasn’t love. But it was something that made her wish he had called her earlier, and happy when he asked if she wanted to meet up in New York.
“Is he a basketball player too?” Brooks’ questioned interrupted her thoughts.
“Adam? Oh god, no.” Jamie was surprised at the tone in her voice, and even Trista picked up on it.
“Uh-oh. Sounds like girlfriend has some hate for the ballers.” Brooks waved a finger in her face. “Don’t do that, baby girl. You know I love Chase.” Jamie smiled. Brooks had visited her a few times in LA and she and Chase went to a few West Hollywood parties with him.
Trista said, “you’re mad at your ex, so maybe this is a rebound thing?”
Jamie considered. “Yeah, maybe. But you know, with Chase and Sean, there was always this… thing… that they were so different. With Adam, I just feel like I’ve known him all my life; like, ‘oh, I totally get this guy’.”
“What does he do?” Brooks asked.
“Well, he just got his law degree and now he’s working at a production company.”
“Ohh, so he wants to be a movie exec.” Trista said, impressed. “Very nice. I assume his law degree comes from an Ivy League school and not from some state school?”
Brooks clicked his tongue in faux disgust. “Trista, you’re a fucking elitist. I got my degree from a state school.”
“And I got mine from a small college no one’s heard of,” Trista shrugged. “I’m just trying to see if this guys the real deal, or if he’s one more bullshit artist clogging up the 405.”
They both turned to Jamie for the answer. “I’d say so, yes.” She paused, then, “He’s definitely the real deal.”
“Is he hot?”
Jamie thought about Adam’s workout-perfect build, his chiseled profile. She blushed. “Like a movie star.”
“OK, then.” Trista leaned over Brooks to talk to Jamie. “It’s real simple. Not everyone is going to fall in love with you, sweetie. Especially some hot guy with a law degree who just hit town. Welcome to dating in L.A.”
Even though it didn’t make her feel any better about him not making plans, just talking it out helped Jamie. It also made her realize that for the first time in months, she had stopped thinking about Chase.
When she came back, Adam seemed disappointed that she was only going to be in LA for a little while before going back to New York. Then he suddenly remembered that he had a reason to be in New York too.
He told her he was going to fly in on Wednesday for a meeting with his mother’s attorney.
“Nothing bad,” he assured her. “It’s just that with my mom’s job and everything, they want to look over my employment contract to make sure there are no items that can be a problem.” His real reason to go back East, though, was to ‘take care of some things’ in DC. Adam was vague about this, except to ask her if she wanted to go with him. Trying to keep her voice neutral, Jamie agreed. She would fly to DC after she finished a job and spend the weekend with him.
On Friday, during her last fitting, Jamie found herself impatiently willing the photographer’s assistant, Rafi, to hurry up. “Did you just drink a lot of coffee?” he asked as Jamie ran into the dressing room to try on the umpteenth outfit that day.
She poked her head through the flimsy curtain separating them. “Why? What am I doing?” she asked innocently.
“Umm, you’re, liked, amped! I’d ask if you were on blow, but I know that’s not your thing.” He gestured for her to come towards him and Jamie stepped into the five-inch shoes a kneeling Rafi was ready to strap her into.
Another model, Irina, was nearby getting her makeup done and perked up at their conversation. She waved to get their attention. “Do you guys have some for me?”
Without looking up, Rafi answered loudly, “No, Irina. No one’s got any blow for you.” At this, a disappointed Ir
ina went back to playing a game on her phone. Then he whispered under his breath, “no one’s got shit for you, you coke whore.”
Rafi looked up at Jamie and shook his head. “Sad.” He proclaimed. “She has the kind of body that will gain weight if you so much as walk past her with a pastry, so she’s on, ahem, appetite suppressants. But they’re affecting her ability to work.” He finished with the shoes and stood up. “She’ll be out of the business because of her weight or her drugs within the year.”
Later, in the car from the airport, she found herself recounting the story to Adam. “I can’t believe what some girls will do to lose weight… but anyway, that’s not why I thought I would miss my flight. It’s just that fashion people are visual perfectionists, you know? They’re terrible about being on time, or details like giving you the right address, but if something in a shot is even so much as a millimeter off, we have to do it over again.” She stopped and looked over to see Adam smiling at her. “Am I rambling?” she asked worriedly.
“No.” He put his arm around her and pulled her close. “I’m glad you didn’t miss your flight. I mean, I would have waited until you got the next one, but… it’s good you’re here.” This was the first time they had done anything beyond the friendly hug hello and goodbye from the barbeque. He had finally told her why he was in DC---to pack up some of his things for his move to LA.
“Well, thanks for inviting me.” Jamie saw a boat on the river next to them, the rowers keeping pace with the traffic locked cars. She watched the rowers, their college logo stamped on their shirts and wished she could go back to the days when Friday nights meant hanging out with Chase in her dorm room.
Adam followed her gaze. “Do you miss school?” he asked.
“Yes.” It was true, but only half of what she was missing.
Jamie shook herself back to reality, and scrambled to hide her thoughts. “Sometimes. I mean, everyone in my family graduated from college. I feel like I went backwards.” This was true enough.
They approached his house, a narrow, historic townhome in Georgetown. “This is beautiful Adam,” Jamie said, impressed. “How old are you again?”
“I’m actually a middle aged man going through a mid life crisis,” he winked, and took her hand. “Still interested?”
They walked in and Jamie couldn’t help but gasp at the interior. She had been inside bigger, or more expensive, or more lavishly decorated homes, but Adam’s house was breathtaking in its authenticity. The dark wood paneling, the rich green of the study; even the framed display of a battered and clearly antique American flag was on pitch.
“Is this… is this yours? I mean, do you own it?” Jamie knew her mother would die at her asking such a vulgar question, but she couldn’t help it.
“It’s all mine. Believe it or not, this is what I bought with the money I inherited from my grandparents.” Jamie knew the Bixby family was one of the oldest and richest families in North Carolina. “It’s going to sound strange, but the first time my mom won her Senate seat, we came up to Georgetown to go sightseeing, and I just knew I wanted one of these houses.” He smiled at the memory. “God, I must have still been in high school. Then a few years later, I was visiting my mom, and walked around this area like I usually did, and I saw a moving van pulled up front. I was lucky. The real estate market was tanking, and the house was in pretty bad shape. I had just come into my inheritance a year or two earlier, so I bought it, and I’ve been working on it ever since.” He looked up, taking it all in through Jamie’s eyes. “I think my parents were actually impressed. It was better than squandering my inheritance, which is what my older brothers were convinced I was going to do.”
“I really…I really like it.” Jamie couldn’t explain why, but she did. There was that feeling again---as if being with Adam was like coming to a place so familiar to her. Just like his house. She scolded herself for the thought. This is too soon, a voice warned. Too soon for you to think like this.
Adam took a step and stood close to her. “Can I kiss you now?” he asked almost formally. At Jamie’s nod, he leaned in and they kissed. It was over with quickly, and as Jamie blinked in surprise, she heard Adam say, “there. No more tension, right?” he asked.
“Right.” Jamie agreed. They had crossed the line from being platonic friends to… whatever it was that came after, and now every accidental touch wasn’t so loaded. As if reading her mind, Adam threw an arm around her waist and kissed her again. “Come on, I’ll show you to your bedroom.”
The top floor of the townhouse had the master suite and an adjacent guest bedroom that was twice the size of Jamie’s studio apartment. She laughed. “I think I’ll be very comfortable here.” Jamie was also glad Adam didn’t assume or take anything for granted.
“Are you tired?” he asked. “Because we can go out, or get some take out, or I can cook. Your choice.”
“Let’s both cook. I bet you have an amazing kitchen.” They went down two flights of stairs to the main living area---the kitchen on one side, the family room on the other. Adam had already gone shopping before she came, so they had plenty of food to choose from.
They cooked side by side, the conversation easy and natural between the two of them. When dinner was ready, they decided against sitting in the formal dining room, and opted to sit on the bar stools in the kitchen counter, knees touching, discovering everything they had in common.
When they finished with dinner, they took a walk to M Street, Georgetown’s commercial area. Adam put his around her as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and they walked past bars and restaurants filled with a wide variety of people. Just looking inside the patio of one restaurant, there were college students wearing their sweatshirts standing next to a pair of retirees, who were in turn standing next to a trio of power brokers in their suits. She pointed this out to him, and added, “coming from New York and L.A., you think you’re used to seeing lots of different types of people in one place, but this crowd is really random.”
Adam pulled her closer to him and asked, “what do you think people would say about us? Are we the college students or the politicians?”
“I think we look like two people on a date,” she answered easily. “It’s not our first date, but we’re definitely still in the getting to know you stage.”
“So we look exactly the way we are.” Adam sounded disappointed.
Jamie, who knew all about using images to tell a story told him, “of course. We could change our clothes, or we could not touch when we walked down the street. But that wouldn’t fool too many people. It’s harder to hide emotions.”
“I’d disagree,” he said a little too quickly.
“Ahh, that’s because you’re thinking about hiding them from a person you know. I’m talking about when you have your guard down, and you’re being watched, like people in that restaurant watching us. Strangers. Then it’s harder.”
They stopped in front of a cupcake store. Adam placed his hand on the door. “And you know this how?”
“I’m a model,” she said archly. “I spend hours pretending to look at someone like they’re my lover, or boyfriend, or best friends. It’s hard.”
“You have a future in politics, I think.” He held the door open for her. “Dessert?”
Jamie thought it ironic that they talked about feeling awkward, because by the time they got back to his house, whatever shyness she may have felt was gone. It didn’t mean she was ready for more, so the chaste goodnight kiss he gave her before turning into his room was a big relief. He respects me, Jamie told herself happily, but something felt a little off. Still, all the magazine articles she had read would agree: a man who didn’t want to sleep with you on the first date was a man who was already thinking about a future with you. That was good enough for her.
The next morning, she awoke to the sound of the front door quietly closing. Adam must have left while she was asleep and was just now c
oming back. She woke up leisurely and padded downstairs to find him in the basement, in front of an open pipe. “Old house, old pipes,” he said by way of explanation. “I’m replacing one of the joints.”
Jamie sat down next to him. “Did you go somewhere this morning?” she asked. “I thought I heard the door.”
Adam leaned over and gave her a lingering kiss. “Yeah, I went out earlier.” Changing the subject, he asked, “can you make coffee for us? I’ll be up in a minute.”
Heading into the kitchen, Jamie thought, this is all so… normal. No one stares at us when we’re out, I don’t turn on the TV to watch highlights of him, and I can actually see trees from his backyard. Not sand, not skyscrapers. I feel like my parents, except my parents first house wasn’t a seven figure townhouse from the 18th century. She quickly found the coffee and started breakfast for them. Soon enough she heard Adam coming up the staircase. “What do you want to do today?” she asked.
“Let’s go see where my mom works,” he suggested.
They spent the day in Washington D.C., playing tourists. Except most tourists had to wait in long lines and couldn’t get into restricted areas. With a special pass Adam picked up from his mother’s office, they could go to the front of any line. They ended the day at a formal restaurant where the maitre d’ greeted Adam warmly.
“I take it you’re a regular here,” Jamie said as she looked around discreetly at all the other patrons. She recognized a Sunday talk show host and a politician from California.
“I like it. It’s my favorite French restaurant.” Adam nodded to someone behind her. “I hope this is OK.”
Jamie took a sip of water. “You are such a grown-up,” she told him.
“Is that a compliment?”
“Yes.” She took in the people around her and asked the obvious. “Do you want to go into politics too?”
“Truth?”
“Please.”
“Ever since I was a boy. I think it runs in the family. My great grandfather was Governor.”
