“Hello?” she says on the second ring.
“Hey.”
“Son, how are you doing?”
I cringe at her referring me to as her son. “I have the money for you.”
A sigh of relief sounds through the speakers of my car. “I knew you’d come through.”
“You didn’t leave me much choice.” My knuckles turn white as I grip the steering wheel.
“Now, now. Don’t be like that, kiddo.”
She’s fucking delusional!
“I also had my lawyer draw up an agreement that you won’t contact me or Lilah ever again. Nor will you speak to anyone else—including the press—about either of our pasts.”
I had my lawyer throw Lilah in there as even more protection. I don’t want her getting around the contract on a technicality, nor do I want her messing with Lilah. My mom’s sudden reappearance is screwing with Lilah’s head. Half the time, she’s passed out when I return home. She’s using more than she used to, and that’s why I wasn’t going to suggest the Regent to celebrate her contract with House of Carlisle.
“Still playing Superman to your Lois Lane, are you?” Her tone of boredom, like I’m a moron for watching out for Lilah, irritates me.
“Don’t you worry about what I’m doing. Just know that if you violate the contract, not only will you owe me every penny back, but I’ll sue you for extortion and you’ll be eating cat food under a bridge for the rest of your life. You get me?”
“That’s no way to speak to your mother!”
The bitch sounds offended. Hello? Left me with abusive father. I shake my head.
“You stopped being a mother to me the day you left. Get a lawyer, text me with the info, and I’ll have the contract sent over. Once you sign it, I’ll transfer the money. You’ve got forty-eight hours.” I check my rearview mirror and back out of the parking spot.
“I know you’re angry with me, but thank you,” she says.
I hit End Call on the steering wheel, driving to the studio gates.
She’d better keep her word after she receives the money. If not, she’s going to figure out how far I’ll go to protect the life I’m building for myself and Lilah.
Chapter Twenty
Lilah
It’s been two weeks since I got the contract for House of Carlisle and other than Jimmy’s mom, things have been mundane in our lives. For Jimmy’s birthday, we go to Santa Monica Pier. We spend the day together and have dinner. As a way to say thanks for everything he’s done for me over the past months, I planned a surprise party at his place after dinner. We still have some time to kill until we can show up, so I suggest a walk on the beach.
We walk hand in hand away from the craziness of the pier, listening to the sounds of the waves hitting the shore and the kids’ squeals from the rides in the distance.
“You should know that I settled all that shit with my mom. She won’t be bothering me again.”
My body tenses. “Really?”
He stops and turns to me. His hand cradles my cheek and he stares into my eyes. “She signed an agreement. She can’t bother either one of us or talk to the press unless she wants to pay the money back. It’s over and she’s out of my…our lives for good.”
My hand covers his and I squeeze. “I’m sorry.”
He shrugs and kisses my forehead.
Before he can slide away, I wrap my arms around his waist and step into his warm chest. I want to say how sorry I am that his mom extorted money from him. That life isn’t fair that his mom left him only to return because she wants a piece of what he’s made of himself. Reassure him that I love him and he’s an amazing man despite his horrible childhood. Jimmy doesn’t like to show me any weakness and it’s his birthday, so I don’t want to rehash things with his mom or the past tonight.
We walk a bit more in silence.
“Did you have fun today?” I sit down in the sand, which is cool, and a welcome relief compared to how scorching hot it was earlier.
He sits beside me and takes my hand. I lay my head on his shoulder. “Of course I did. I spent it with my favorite person.”
I smile. “I wanted to do something nice for you for your birthday. I’m glad you liked it.”
“I want one present from you?”
I draw back, my eyebrows furrowing.
“I want us to be a real couple. No more of this on-again-off-again, are-we-or-aren’t-we bullshit.”
“Jimmy…” I wiggle my toes in the sand. He’s caught me off guard.
“I want you to get clean so we can build a life together.” There’s a hint of desperation in his voice that I can’t ignore. We’re coming to a head and it’s leaving my insides raw. He places his finger under my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. “Look at me. Just say you’ll give us a chance. A real chance. Don’t you love me the same way that I love you?”
My eyes burn from the tears building. “You know I do… but I can’t do what you’re asking.” I blink, and a single tear rolls down my cheek, falling to the sand below.
“Can’t get clean or can’t be with me?” he whispers.
“Both.” My chin falls to my chest and he drops his hand.
“That’s bullshit,” he says, pulling his legs to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. “If you wanted to, you could. You’ve never even tried. Am I not enough for you to try?”
“Of course you are. Don’t you see? I’m broken. And if we’re together, really together… I’ll break you too.”
He shakes his head, his vision focused on the dark ocean. “So, what’s your plan? Are we just going to keep fucking when the mood strikes you? When you get scared I’m moving in my own direction, you’ll pull me back in? How long will that last? Into our late thirties? Forties? Because at some point you’re either going to kill yourself by overdosing or I’ll move on. There’re things I want in life, Lilah. Are you too messed up to realize that?”
His words are like a closed fist to the face, but they don’t surprise me. Not really. They’ve been a long time coming, and Jimmy wore velvet gloves with me for years. The iron fist is due, but that doesn’t change the fact I need Jimmy in my life and if we cross that line, he won’t be anymore.
When I don’t say anything, he grips my shoulders. “Tell me why. Tell me why you won’t be with me after everything we’ve been through together. I know you love me. You can deny it if you wish, but I know you do.”
I shake my head; my chest constricts and tears stream from my eyes. Why is he pushing this so hard? “I can’t be with you because I care about you too much! We both know I’ll mess it up, and once we’ve crossed that line, there’s no going back. And then I won’t have you in my life at all! I’ll ruin you if I let you get any closer to the real me. I’ll destroy you and break your heart and it’ll never be the same between us again.”
Tendrils of anger weave throughout my body. At the same time, relief winds through.
He pushes himself up off the sand and looks at me with his arms out at his sides. “Are you fucking blind? You’re already gutting me here. Things are already changing between us and I know you feel it too.”
I grab my purse from beside me and stand as well, meeting him head-on. “Things don’t have to change! You’re the one who’s trying to change them.”
“Don’t you ever get tired of this shit? Of running from all your problems? Of drowning them with alcohol and drugs? Haven’t you figured out yet that that doesn’t work?”
My hand raises. His vision shifts to my open palm and back to me. I lower it knowing that as bad as I want to slap him, I never will.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I snap.
“Hand me your purse.” Jimmy stretches his hand out between us. “Give it to me.”
“Why?” I step back, feeling as though I’m back in my childhood bedroom and the walls are slowly closing in around me.
“Give it to me.” He leans forward and reaches behind me to grab it.
“No!”
&n
bsp; I don’t have time to move out of the way before he springs forward and snatches it from my hands. I reach to get it back, but he holds it up over his head. I jump up and down, trying to snag the strap, then I pull on his bicep, but he’s got six inches and a hundred pounds on me. I stop my hysterics and stand in the sand with my arms crossed, watching as he opens it and roots through my belongings.
“Christ, you’ve got an entire pharmacy in here.” He tosses bottles to the sand, one after the other. “I thought you said you were cutting back on all this shit?” He runs a hand through his hair, pulling at the strands.
The anger inside me reaches a boiling point. “Fuck you! You have no right to judge me. I wouldn’t be like this if it wasn’t for you.”
Jimmy’s face drops. The smallest hint of guilt and regret flash in his eyes before anger slashes all his features.
The second the words left my mouth, I regretted them. But I won’t take them back. I won’t show an ounce of remorse.
“That’s low,” he grinds out. “You know if I could take it back I would.”
Back when we were teens in Virginia, Jimmy dealt in order to make money. He’d head into town on foot, or hitchhike, whatever it took in order to sell to the townies. It’s how we paid for our bus tickets to LA in the first place. It’s also how I was introduced to weed, which eventually moved to coke and pills.
Jimmy was able to take them or leave them, but I instantly craved the sweet relief from the thoughts and memories I’d regurgitate in my head over and over. I know he feels guilty for it, I know that on some level he blames himself, but we’ve never discussed it and I’ve never gone so low as to use it against him.
Until now.
I’d still have my demons regardless of whether he’d put the first joint in my hand and I still would’ve found a way to drown them out. But he’s the one who’s pressing the issue about us.
“It’s not low, it’s true. If it weren’t for you, I never would have been introduced to that world, so don’t sit on your high horse and judge me. You’re not exactly squeaky clean yourself,” I spit out.
From his scrunched-up forehead, I’d say he’s not sure if I’m referring to the drugs now or something more. Does it really matter?
“I did that for you. I had no choice.” His hands clench into fists at his sides and the artery in his neck throbs. For the first time, I might have pushed him too far.
Regret douses the fire raging inside me. “Jimmy—”
“Thanks for a great fucking birthday.” He pushes off the sand and walks toward the parking lot.
I want to chase him and apologize.
I’m trying to make him understand.
I didn’t mean those things, but he cornered me. What did he expect me to do? Admit that I might have a problem and he’s not enough for me to stop using? That would hurt him more.
* * *
We ride back to his place in silence, and though I wish there wasn’t a house full of people waiting, it’s the most accessible way to tie one on and forget all this shit.
We’ll make up. We always do. But I can’t deny I’m a little scared. This fight felt different. He openly called me an addict and I blamed him for my being one.
Jimmy pulls into his driveway, slams on the brakes, and exits the vehicle without a word. I follow him, happy to see that even after everything else went wrong, at least the partygoers manage to pull off the surprise.
He unlocks and whips open the door while I’m still ten paces behind. Instead of witnessing it, I hear “Surprise” yelled.
He stops in his tracks, turning to look at me, a half scowl marring his handsome face. “Did you know about this?”
“I planned it.”
I step past him without another word and head straight to the kitchen to pour myself a giant tumbler of the first bottle I see. Jimmy gets caught up saying hello and accepting congratulations from his friends.
I pour whiskey into one of the glasses and sit on the kitchen island stool. I slide a hand into my purse and pull a pill from the inside pocket, then I toss it to the back of my throat and chase it with whiskey.
I sense someone’s eyes on me and glance to my right to find Jimmy’s coworker, Adelaide, watching me. I hold her gaze for a moment, adding no friendliness to my own, until she looks away.
Jimmy hugs her, and she wishes him a happy birthday. He smiles and shoots her his Jimmy smile. Not one of his practiced, James-red-carpet ones. They must be getting chummy.
I pour more whiskey and chug it, relishing the burn as the alcohol slides down my throat into my stomach.
Might as well enjoy the party.
Chapter Twenty-one
Jimmy
I take a hit off the joint and pass it back to Tripp in the lounger next to me by the pool. My birthday party has been in full swing for a few hours now. Everyone is having a blast, especially Lilah. She’s the life of the party. She always is, with a little help from her best friends—alcohol and drugs.
I’ve only seen her drinking tonight, but I’m not naïve enough to think she isn’t on something. Lately, I see her on something more than sober. Downers, uppers, party drugs… whatever. She’s not particular. Anything to alter her natural state.
“You want some more, man?” Tripp holds the joint out in front of me.
“Nah, I’m good.”
I’m hoping the joint will mellow me. My anger with Lilah from our conversation at the pier isn’t fading and we’re not done discussing us, but it’s none of these people’s business. My breaking point is close, I’m ready to blow, but still… she’s Lilah.
Lilah steps out of the sliding glass doors, heading to the other side of the deck with a group of people.
“You wouldn’t mind if I asked Adelaide out then?” he asks.
“Knock yourself out. But I don’t want to be in the middle of any lovers’ quarrel and I don’t want it to affect me on set, so don’t fuck her over.”
Tripp doesn’t exactly do commitment, but Adelaide is a big girl. She can figure that out for herself.
“I’m just messing with you.” He claps his hand on my shoulder and shakes me. “I was just testing the waters, seeing if you had a thing for her.”
My forehead wrinkles. “Why would I have a thing for her?”
He inhales another hit of the joint. “You two just seem like you get along, that’s all.”
“Well, she’s cool and we’ve developed a friendship, working together these past couple of months. But we’re only friends, nothing more.”
“Does she know that?” He laughs, smoke trailing out of his mouth.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I sip my whiskey.
Tripp shakes his head and looks at me as though I’m a dumb fuck. “I swear you’re clueless half the time. She obviously likes you, man. Just watch how she looks at you.”
“Bullshit.”
He chuckles again. “I’m telling you, she does.”
From the other side of the deck, Lilah lets loose a loud laugh and places her hand on Jerome, who’s apparently a stand-up comic tonight. Jerome is a decent enough guy. I’ve known him for a couple years, since we worked on a smaller production together. But seeing Lilah with her hands on him has my fist clenching in my lap.
“What’s going on with you and Lilah?” Surprisingly, Tripp’s voice is void of the usual derision it holds when he mentions her.
“What do you mean?” I sip my drink again and shift in my seat to get more comfortable.
“It’s obvious you two are avoiding each other. What gives?”
I’m not in the mood to get into it with him over Lilah tonight. I’ve had enough bullshit for one birthday, thanks.
When I don’t answer, Tripp shifts in his seat and faces me. “Look, I’ll admit I’m not her biggest fan, but it’s not because I don’t think she’s a decent person. I just think she’s needs to get her shit together before she drags you down with her. That’s all.” He tips his beer to his mouth. I open my mouth to respond, but he puts
a hand up between us before I can speak. “I know, I know, she’s had a hard life, I have no idea what she’s been through, blah, blah. Well, let me tell you, my life wasn’t a fucking picnic growing up either, but you do what you have to in order to get past it.”
Listening to him voice all the excuses I’ve made for Lilah over the years brings the anger back to the surface. For the first time, I hear how pathetic I sound and what a fucking idiot I am for chasing a girl who I’ve done the unthinkable for and she still doesn’t want to be with me.
“Like bang groupies on tour buses and backstage?” I make light of his words, not wanting to further deteriorate my mood at my own party.
He claps a hand on my shoulder again and shakes me. “Now you’re getting the idea! Come on tour with me and work her out of your system.” He laughs, but his offer is tempting.
“Us actors aren’t like you rock stars. We don’t have the luxury of being in a different city every night.”
He grins. “True dat. The best part about being a musician is that you’re leaving town the next morning. No chance of developing a stage-five clinger.”
We laugh together and sip our drinks.
“Any idea when you’re headed back out on tour?”
“Nah, man. I’ve been writing a bit lately, but nothing is really gnawing on me and pushing me into the studio, you know? Until it does, there’ll be no new album and no tour.” He leans back into the lounger and glances around the patio. “Until then, I’ll have to settle for LA pussy and hope I don’t attract any bat-shit-crazy girls.”
I roll my eyes and finish my drink. We sit in comfortable silence for a bit, but my gaze keeps lingering on the group of people Lilah’s sitting with. No matter how badly I don’t want to be reminded of her rejection, I can’t seem to stop myself from looking at her.
Maybe I do understand more about addiction than I thought.
Chapter Twenty-two
Lilah
All We Were Page 11
