10. Chapter Ten - Jackson
Jackson
I lift my arm in greeting when I see Lexie in the distance.
It's so unusual to see her without her apron and unruly red curls tamed at her neck. My eyes follow them as they rustle with each step Lexie takes, like they have a life of their own.
She looks amazing in a dress.
Meanwhile, I'm in my regular celebrity disguise that could easily be confused with a stalker: a black cap pulled low over my face, sunglasses, and a scarf almost up to my nose to hide as much as possible of my face.
It's slowly starting to get downright chilly, which is great. It makes this whole get-up much more inconspicuous than it would have been in the middle of summer.
"Why do you look like you're going to rob a bank?" Lexie asks curiously once she's in earshot instead of a greeting. I wait until she's a bit closer to pull down my scarf and answer.
"So I won’t get recognized. I’m not eager to pose for fan-pictures when I’m out with you."
"Oh." Her eyes grow wide and she nods in understanding. “That makes sense.”
My eyes dart to her. Was there a hint of sadness in her voice? Why? But she’s beaming at me happily, cheeks a pink tint from the cold and I really want to hug her, squeeze her like an adorable puppy.
But alas. We’re in public and she’s most definitely not a puppy. We slowly start walking past King’s Cross station between several high rise buildings.
The good thing about London is that it's chaotic. There are so many people walking with their eyes fixed on their phone, talking with their partners, not paying an ounce of attention to their surroundings as they put one foot in front of the other.
Which is annoying on the regular, but from a celebrity perspective? It’s perfect. If they look up at all, it’s solely to avoid bumping into others. Most don’t give a fuck about celebrities; they don’t even realize we’re walking right past them.
It's one of the few cities where it's possible to blend in, but not always. Once the first person recognizes you, the rest will follow, and before you know it, you’re caught in a mob of people pushing from all sides to get your picture or autograph.
I’d rather wear a scarf in summer than go through that again. In the end, I had to pay way too much money for a security firm to step in quickly.
"Where are we going anyway?" Lexie asks, voice dropping in curiosity as we walk towards a fountain, and I nod to our left to indicate where to go.
"I heard you and Bailey talking about that floating bookshop, so I thought we'd start there, and follow with a walk down the Regent's Canal. We can have a look at Camden Market while we’re at it and see where we end up."
"Sounds great," she says with a grin, and we weave our way through a crowd of people until we arrive at the canal and slowly make our way towards a bridge.
“What’s going on here?” Lexie looks down the side of the bridge. When I follow her gaze, I see people sitting on wide steps that line the shore, chattering and basking in the evening sun, an exciting buzz in the air.
“No idea,” I admit and take her hand to quickly pull her away from the crowd, acutely aware of the way her fingers immediately interlace with mine.
Finally, I have some one-on-one time with her, with no Bailey playing a bad cupid half a room away or her boss rustling about in the background, and I really want to get to know her better. There’s no way I'm going to let fans ruin that for me.
As much as I love them and as thankful as I am for their support, the concept of privacy seems to be an unknown one to most of them. There are some days I can deal with that, but today is not one of those.
"Oh, this is cute," Lexie swoons as we reach the shore, walking past a row of boats floating on the Canal, each one with its unique decoration.
"They all look cozy as hell," she points out, her steps slowing, and I follow her gaze to a boat that has a whole couch on its deck.
"They do," I agree with a nod. "I don't think I could ever warm up to the idea of a houseboat though."
"You couldn't?" She looks up at me with the widest, most innocent eyes, and I nod.
"Yeah, I don't think it's for me. I'm a bit claustrophobic, especially in rooms that don’t have windows, so it's definitely a no."
She grimaces and narrows her eyes, rolling my words over in her head, then lets me pull her along to the next one.
"So you're claustrophobic?" she asks, swinging our hands between us.
"A bit," I admit and pull her out of the way from a biker, quickly switching sides as we walk. Now I’m the one falling into the water in the worst case.
"So how do you do planes?" she wonders, tilting her head and looking up at me curiously.
"Well, I'm not a fan," I chuckle. "Obviously, I have to deal with planes a lot in my job. Most of the time, I can talk my brother into lending me the company private jet, and that's not as bad. But commercial?" I pause. "This is going to sound privileged as fuck, but I could never fly economy. If I have enough space, flights are terrible, but if I sat perched between two strangers, I’d likely hyperventilate."
"I get it, it's really not fun," she giggles, and that sound ingrains itself into my mind. "I would also avoid it if I had the means."
"Are you planning on going back to the US soon?" I ask her, my heart beating in my throat.
I hadn't considered her leaving until now. But considering she's originally from America and moved here with her ex-fiancé from what I've gathered, I wonder. Will she stay here, even though their relationship is over?
"My visa's good for two years," she thinks out loud, her eyes wandering over the houseboats, a smile slowly washing over her face when a family of ducks appears.
"I'm not tucking my tail between my legs and running back home," she continues, her voice full of conviction. Then she shrugs and continues walking, pulling me with her. "I don't know. Going back right now would seem wrong. I’ve spent so much time, money and energy into moving here, I kind of want to make the best of it. Returning would feel like I’m running away from Derek, and the last thing I want to do is make one more decision because of him."
Her shoulders sag, and suddenly relief radiates from her. "It's kind of liberating, come to think of it. I've got all the possibilities in the world. I could stay here. Or I could move anywhere in the world. I can meet new people. I don't even know where to start."
"One step after the other," I point out. "I know what it's like to have a big change in life, and how overwhelming all the possibilities can seem. It might feel liberating at first, but then all the opportunities, all your dreams start pushing in from each side, urging you to act on them, and that feels more like pressure than anything else."
“Right,” she says softly and nods absentmindedly. “I hadn’t considered that.” We walk next to each other for a bit until she speaks up again. "So you mentioned your director got fired? I'm probably not supposed to ask you about your work, but I'm curious. What happened?" Then she freezes and looks at me with panic in her eyes. “Oh God, if you don’t want to answer then please don’t.”
"You’re good,” I chuckle and continue walking. “I’m sure you won’t run to the next gossip magazine so it’s fine. I can't give you any names though," I point out, and she gives me an eager nod.
“Alright. So ninety-five percent of directors are an absolute pleasure to work with. But from time to time, there's just one that lets their power get to their head," I start, and she nods along as I speak.
"Oh yeah, I had a professor in university like that." She visibly shudders, and I chuckle. It’s a good comparison. Both are in a position of power and if they’re dicks, can ruin your career.
"Right. And for a reason I can't disclose, he had a clash with another cast member," I continue, shaking my head as I remember my conversation with Elena. Such a ridiculous reason. "So the director managed to make all days hell for that particular cast member. And since a lot of people are involved with every scene you shoot, it made work miserable for everyone involved with the production."
She’s still nodding along, listening intently, even though I feel like all I’m saying is so vague it tells only half of the story.
"Now, do you know who my brother is?" I ask her and see her shoulders tense before she shakes her head.
For a moment, I’d panicked when she sent me that picture of my face plastered to the side of a bus, an advertisement for the last movie I shot here. What if she acted differently towards me? But thankfully, she did none of that.
Frankly, it’s ridiculous I just didn’t tell her myself. A part of me wondered if she’d known all along and just pretended to not know me to spare me some embarrassment with the way we met, or for far worse reasons, but thank God, it seems she had no idea who I was. I’m sure if she’d realized it earlier, so would Bailey and he’d tease me about it at some point.
"Which one?" she asks and rolls her eyes at me, and I grin at her. Someone did their homework.
"Well, I guess that answers it. I mean, my oldest brother, Adam."
"I've heard of him. Tell me about him."
"He's the CEO of Crony, which is one of the biggest talent management agencies in the business," I quickly explain. I hate saying that part out loud. It makes me sound like a nepotism baby, which I am. I know that. But I hate people thinking that I'm only getting my roles because of my connection.
"Anyways, Adam's got his fingers in a lot of pots in the entertainment industry. Well, Crony has but they’re basically the same thing."
She nods, and I can already see the floating bookshop coming up in a few boats. "Anyways, I talked to him about what's going on. He flew over, checked it out for himself, and then fired the director in front of the whole crew."
I can’t help the smile that washes over my face as I remember that day. Oh, the look on Rob’s face when he’d realized who Adam was.
"That sounds amazing. I wish someone would have done that with my asshole bosses."
"Oh, it was great," I agree with a low chuckle. "I had to make a bit of a deal with Adam, but in return, I got to witness him fire that person in front of the whole cast and crew. And let me tell you, it was a sight to behold."
"I can imagine. Those are the kind of people who have never learned about consequences. And when they finally get some, to them it comes out of nowhere. God, I love some sweet karma-justice."
"Exactly that," I chuckle and come to a stand. "And here's the boat shop."
"Wow, this looks so cute," she says as her eyes wander over the floating ship that’s tightly secured to the shore and her face lights up in a wide smile. "Oh my god, look at these flowers."
She steps up to the shop entrance, and I offer her my arm as she first climbs up a step and then down a small set of stairs onto the boat, following her way less gracefully.
"Oh my god," she exhales softly and looks around. "This is peak coziness,” she mutters under her breath, and I nod in agreement.
Thick old books line the walls, and not just any old books; they seem to be special editions of classics. There's Sherlock Holmes, Grimms' Fairy Tales, Jane Austen, and so many more that I’ve never heard of.
There's another room further down and under the boat’s deck, which she hastily steps towards, but I shake my head. There’s no way I’m going into a dark, windowless room halfway under water, only lit by passive light.
"I'm going to wait here for you."
“Oh, right,” she mumbles and gives me an understanding smile before climbing the few steps down and disappearing into the dark.
Meanwhile, I look around, my eyes wandering over the spines of the books on display. Curious, I pull out the Grimms' Fairy Tales and turn it in my hands. It's really heavy, and when I open it, I realize the chapters start with intricate drawings that look like right out of an old Disney movie. It's a really pretty edition.
For a moment, I think about getting it for Zoey. After all, the fairy tales of Sleeping Beauty and Snow White were a must to get her to sleep for a solid two years.
Then I remember that we didn’t tell her the original stories—we totally prettied up the endings because the original endings to those fairytales are, well, grim .
So I quickly put it back.
Next, my eyes wander over all the little decorations, all the details that have been added with so much love, when Lexie suddenly pops up next to me again.
"Did you find something?"
"No, I'm good." She shoots me a bright smile and a thankful wink when I offer her my arm to climb out of the boat.
"Bailey picked a good spot, this is really amazing," Lexie says, voice full of awe and takes out her phone to snap a quick picture of it. "And such a cute idea."
Instead of walking by the canal, I direct her down a different route to bypass the crowd by the bridge until we finally reach the canal again.
"You must be close with your brothers," she mentions as we reach a little pathway next to the canal. “That must be nice.”
"It's complicated," I answer with a shrug and deep sigh. "As close as you can be to someone a decade older than you, I guess. What about you?" I quickly change the topic. "Any siblings?"
"No, no siblings," she says with a sad smile. "I've always wanted an older brother though. I kind of envy you."
"I don't think it's worthy of envy," I reply, shaking my head. “Trust me. Are you close with your parents?"
"Not really," she says with a shrug. "They taught me early on to be independent, and now I am. We message from time to time and usually facetime each other for holidays, but that's about it."
"Oh," I say with a nod.
"That's why I was so happy to move here with him, you know?" She gulps, then shrugs exaggeratedly. "He told me his family moved here and he wanted to get closer to them again. Oh well."
"I'm sorry," I say softly. "That whole thing must have hit you hard."
"It did," she nods, "but I've decided to be over it now."
"You've just decided that?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. Is it really that easy?
"That might make me sound ridiculous, but I do believe that if you set your mind to something, your emotions will follow," she says, nodding firmly. “Especially when it comes to getting over cheating exes," she adds, and I take a moment to think about it.
"I never really thought about it from that angle, but I think you're right. It's a mindset thing."
"A therapist might disagree," she laughs. “But it’s worked for me so far.”
"Probably," I agree. "But I can't deny that conviction and a high sense of self-confidence can get you far, especially in the entertainment industry." We continue to walk silently, watching a boat serving coffee float by us and the way the resulting gentle waves dissolve against the shore.
"Speaking of siblings," I finally add, "Haven't you kind of found your family here? The way Bailey and you bicker reminds me a lot of me and my brothers."
"Maybe," she says with a grin. “I like to think he would have driven my parents crazy.”
“Oh, I bet he would. Oof.”
Air leaves my lungs all of a sudden when she pulls me aside right as a biker flies past me. Damn, I didn’t think this little walk would be that dangerous.
We walk by Camden Market and find a snack for our way, talking about anything and everything. About how we miss home, yet prefer the food here, I learn that her favorite movies are Beauty and the Beast and some old Barbie movie and she likes her popcorn salted.
Slowly, we make our way further down the canal, trees that are slowly turning yellow rustling in the soft wind and the setting sun bathing everything in a warm orange.
“Are those… monkeys?” she suddenly asks and points to our right.
“What—” I start, the words stuck in my throat when I follow her gaze and absolutely see a monkey. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”
“What the hell?” She starts to giggle but seems to realize what’s going on. “Right! I read about this. It’s the zoo!”
A relieved sigh escapes me. “Thank God, I would not have wanted to deal with animal control.”
“What a walk.” Lexie shakes her head and nudges me to the side as another biker flies past us.
And all I can think about is her hand, still interlaced with mine.