Chapter Three
Chapter Three
I glimpsed at her as we made our way through the Sacramento airport. It kind of made me giggle when I said the words Sacramento International Airport . It was a preschooler compared to the Austin Airport, but I remember laughing at the idea of Austin being anything international. Now it bustled like JFK or LAX and definitely had better food than most. This girl possessed so many different looks. Today, faded jeans that hung on her hips, a worn-thin gray T-shirt with “YEAH, NAH” printed across the front, her hair up in a messy knot, no makeup shrouding the redness that seemed to have settled on her upper cheekbone, and those eyes, left unadorned. That look that said: Lock me away on a ranch, let’s make babies together, ride horses, and sit on the back porch every night sipping whiskey and gasping in awe as the Texas sun bids adieu . That fucking look was my favorite… too clean, too fresh, too earnest for fucking L.A.
I blinked in response to her loudly clearing her throat, her eyebrows drawing in. “Jake, wake up, you need to say goodbye to your girlfriend, mate.” She leaned forward on her toes, pecked my bottom lip, and whispered against my mouth, “I’ll miss you.” My lips softened when those big green eyes blinked up at me. “Jake, I really will,” she added. Damn if the promise in her tone didn’t grab my gut. A pathetic angst rolled through me…did I really need her to reassure me? I’d already texted Delilah, so I wasn’t going to say a word about Bernardo until I had a chance to find the best way to share the concerns banging around in my head. If I started talking now, after a night of pacing, staring at a whiskey bottle, imagining Rakell’s past as an escort, and replaying the Instagram pictures of Bernardo and Jessica, all of it colliding in my brain like one massive wreck, the words that were sitting on my tongue would sound too much like a threat. If you take this role, you can’t be alone with him…if you, if he. I couldn’t do that, not when we were walking on the same path together for the first time. Damn, I did not want to undo last night by spewing the cadre of fears brewing in my gut…our hearts in the mirror, corny if I told someone else, but between us, a pact.
Gripping the back of her neck, yanking her in deeper, I kissed her as if I needed her to know she was mine. This one is mine . When we broke suction, I growled, “Damn those lips.”
My hand slid down her back as I asked, “Is there some Australian hidden message behind, YEAH, NAH?”
She stepped back, cringing because it came out of my mouth like a nasally high-pitched Louisiana accent with a little Cockney thrown in.
“Huh?” She pulled her eyebrows together and said, “Oh...my shirt?” She lit up, a cocky-as-hell grin eating up her whole face. “It’s Australian for nooo. The yeah just gives the asker time so we can ease them into the nah…but it was no all along.” She laughed, twisting her head to look at the security line, and said, “I better go.” She shifted again. “See you soon. Wish me luck,” she added, over her shoulder. I stared at her hips as she sashayed away, wishing I had fucked her this morning, savored her body, taken in every moment, delighted in her expression as I strung her body along until she burst. Maybe then I could be sure she couldn’t forget how good we were together when she stood in front of Bernardo, reciting her lines. But time wouldn’t allow, so I decided to give her relief in hopes she’d think about her return, about what I wanted to do to her for her birthday.
I nodded, offering her a thumbs-up in response to her small wave as she approached the TSA booth and scrambled to get her license out of her purse. Staring after Rakell as she disappeared through security, I shook my head. This was work…just when I thought I’d talked myself through her past, seeing myself as a reasonable guy, giving myself a pat on the back for being evolved, uncertainty returned. Surely, I could reconcile her past because I, too, had seedy stories and a long history with a parade of women (which my sisters didn’t hesitate to remind me of), but I still had to grapple with the conflict of mine versus hers. Her string of men who’d paid money to have her…was that the fissure between my affairs and hers? Other than the number of women I had been with, my experience was within societal norms. Hers were illegal, thus, in my eyes, hers were less acceptable. Yet, I’d told myself, I am a good guy, a progressive guy, and I was willing to let her history go in order to move forward with her. Still, now she would be auditioning for Bernardo Cappuccino; how far was she willing to go to get what she wanted? Shit, my head is spun up about this.
Before starting the SUV, I took out my phone, thinking if I could just talk to Matt…But I knew I’d be pushing Matt’s willingness to be open if I asked the question scratching at my brain: Can I trust her?
She’d made it clear: she didn’t need me. I definitely picked up on her fear of relying on others, as if that were driving her. Everyone thinks successful people are always positive, keeping their eyes on the goal, but the truth is, most people who get there learn that doubt and fear of failure are parts of success, sometimes even the catalyst. For some, it makes them freeze; for others, they run harder, and for most, they run, then freeze, thaw off, and then run again. I wouldn’t describe myself as super intuitive, but what I read from her was that she had wrapped her identity up in the idea that to move forward, she would fight not to lean on anyone else. Is she throwing me in with all those men from her past? Please, please give me the same chance you gave Matt.
Delilah picked up on the second ring. “Hi, Jake. I saw your text this morning. I’m confused. I thought you were taking Rakell to Tahoe for her birthday. Isn’t that today?”
“Yeah, but her agent called about a lead role. I guess she sent a video audition, so now the casting director is asking for an in-person audition,” I sputtered, pulling in a deep breath, trying to arrange my thoughts. “And the movie's main star is interested in having her try out with him. So, we’re going to go next weekend, but now I may have to look at booking something in Napa. Tahoe may get some late snow, but the reason…”
“Jake, that is so exciting for Rakell,” Delilah said, jumping in. “Jake? You don’t sound excited. Actually, why do you seem rattled?” she probed.
My gruff sigh filled the empty space; I knew my acting skills weren’t fooling Delilah. “Well, soo…”
She jumped in. “I know you are big on celebrations, but this is important. She’s in the early stages, so she can’t say no to anything…certainly not a lead role. You get that, right?”
“Bernardo Cappuccino…” I blasted out his name, my mind jolting back to the picture of him and my ex-girlfriend canoodling at Nobu all over Instagram. “The lead actor requesting Rae -kale is…”
“Oh my God,” burst out of her mouth, followed by a sharp uptake of air.
“Yep, fucking Bernardo Cappuccino ,” I said, grinding the words out, vitriol punctuating every syllable. I continued, trying to control the inflection in my voice. I just needed advice.
“Delilah, it’s such bad timing,” I kept spewing. “Just last night, I thought this was something real. This is a girl I love. We’re finally getting somewhere after being on such a twisty road, and well, now all I can think about is what I know about her…and what everyone knows about Bernardo. Damn.”
“Mmm, okay, I know what Jordan heard that night, so, I’m going to make a leap that she’s worked in some sort of companionship business in Europe when she was in school.”
I snorted. “Sure, companionship , if that’s what we call it these days? I cannot keep up with this politically correct terminology.” My tone oozed sarcasm. “I swear…yeah, companionship. ”
“Well, whatever you want to call it, let me lay out the facts as you know them, and I assume you know more than Jordan or me. With that said, if she chose to open up to you, making you the keeper of her secrets, and we all have them, then that’s exactly what you are. You are also someone who understands implicitly; a person isn’t defined by what others deem are their worst choices. Often, we don’t understand the extenuating circumstances around those choices. Sometimes, it’s simply a young developing brain that can’t see into the future making a decision that seems right at the moment but, as you know, can overshadow their future.”
“Hey, my record has been expunged, good behavior…ya know that.” I knew exactly what her pointed remark was referring to, and truthfully, I’d do it again and again but, of course, I didn’t say that to the judge. I’d acted sorry, but when he asked me to approach the bench, he whispered, “Good job, son.” His low, frothy Cajun accent making me smile when he added, “But until we have a law in place that exonerates you from knocking people over who say racist crap, you’re going to have to keep your hands in your pockets. Got it?”
“Yes sir,” I’d responded.
“Actually, don’t tell Jordan this, but I think that was your finest hour, knocking that redneck piece of shit off the barstool after calling my Jord…well, let’s just say that earned you guaranteed godfather status to my first baby.”
“Really, I would do that all day long for fun, but knowing that I got to be Jazzie’s godfather makes it even better. I want to do way more than that to Bernardo…”
“Don’t push it, Jake. You almost lost a lot with that bar incident. But truthfully, hear me out on this. Bernardo being pictured all lovey-dovey with Jessica Ortiz cost you nothing…he saved you. If she was willing to publicly hook up with him while you were still dating and then serve that up on social media, he saved you. It would have ended anyway.”
“I don’t care about that, not really, but knowing he’s going to be…” Even as I said it, my brain pictured her auditioning in front of him, his mouth fucking watering while taking in her sumptuous body as she delivered the lines to Bernardo.
“Jake, he’s going to be what? Rakell is as fierce as they come. I can’t see her being lured into a casting couch situation. Besides everything I’ve seen in the news, that world has been shut down. Actually, I take that back. That’s like me saying there’s no sexism or racism in medicine anymore. Just the other day at the hospital, a visiting surgeon referred to me as a nurse a few times, even after I corrected him.”
“Did you inform him that your hubby is the nurse and you’re the doc?” I asked, knowing she’d eat that up.
She chuckled. “Back to this situation. Let’s put the onus on Rakell. If I were you, I’d feel good about putting my money on that girl.”
“Damn, I just…”
“Aren’t you the one who says she’s bristly or not easy to get close to, so you feel like it’s a gift she’s let you in? Can you imagine how hard she’ll punch him back in place if she thinks he’s moving in on her? I’ll tell you what!"
I chuckled, the twisting in my gut loosening. “Yeah…”
“Does she know about Bernardo? Did you say something? I can’t imagine Jake Anthony Skyler keeping quiet.”
Jumping in, I said, “No, I didn’t say a word. I just sat up all night with my head spinning, well between a few nod-offs on the couch. She was so excited, and I’d feel like a tool sayin’… so, there was this other actress I dated, and she jumped in bed with Bernardo, and could you not do that because I would curl up in a fetal ball and die if that happened? Sounded lame when I played it out in my head.”
“I’m impressed, Skyler. I’ll have to tell Jordan our boy is growing up. At some point, you may need to say something. Social media guarantees few people can hide from anything in the past.”
“Yeah, she’s being pressured to get on and start posting to gather a following, but so far, she’s not. Hell, she’s forbidden me from posting, so…”
“I suppose she’s learned to be very private about her life, but you may want to tell her about Bernardo. Approach it from the angle of being her friend, just information she should know. I suggest after her audition and next weekend’s birthday celebration. But Jake, it’s not good for your relationship for you to fixate on this…you remember how crazy Jord got in the head when I was dating that cardiologist while he was off playing for Miami, as if I were supposed to remain chaste and wait on his ass. Um, no thank you.”
“Delilah, believe me, you were living it up more than he was. He was paralyzed after he met that guy at your white coat ceremony—which you didn’t even invite us to—but Jordan insisted we attend. That was fun, if you enjoy cringe-laden nights and having to hold back the man you think of as your big brother from hurting a skinny white guy with really thick glasses.” I let out a guffaw with the image of Jordon balling his hand into fists after they met the guy Delilah was dating.
“For the record, Skyler, he was a skinny, charming, white guy, a Hugh Grant type, not the way Jordan describes him. That very intelligent cardiologist was charming, but if you listen to Jordan, he was the nerdiest, geekiest human alive. And I’m so lucky that Jordan helped me realize…”
“Okay, wait. I saw the dude dance at your celebration. Sorry, Delilah. He danced like he only moved between his bean bag playing video games and his rolling desk chair to study. I mean, it was comical…and actually I was relieved when I witnessed that.”
“Why?”
“Jordan finally calmed down and said, ‘We can go. Delilah won’t keep him around. A dude who moves like that can’t be doing it for her in bed.’ And that was that. His head was back on, and he was determined to make sure he got you back.”
“Well, whatever Jord needed to tell himself to step up and finally work for me, I’m fine with. But for the record, the guy knew his way around the human body…and not just the heart.”
“Fuck, don’t ever say that to Jordan. Hey, thanks. Somehow, your straight talk makes me feel better…still anxious as hell, but better.”
“Okay, just a second. Can Jasmine say hi? She figured out it’s you and is going nuts.”
“I thought I heard my girl. Yes, definitely put her on the phone.”