Chapter Eighteen
Jay stood by the side of the road watching the taillights of the cab get smaller and smaller as Erin put space between them. In your dreams . He wondered if she would ever know how true those words were. Not only had he royally screwed everything up, but he was also definitely going to dream about her tonight, and the next night, just the way he had all week.
But now he’d made a complete mess of things, all because he was nervous and had acted like a clown.
He stood there long after the cab had disappeared from sight, powerless, rooted to the ground. He had to fix this, but he didn’t have a clue where to begin. He was used to things going his way and he had taken that for granted when he should have been putting Erin’s feelings first. This whole evening was supposed to have been about making her feel special and appreciated. Instead, he’d made her feel like just another in a long line of women.
The reality was that she was special. So incredibly special.
Slowly, he walked back to his car. He started the engine with a heavy heart. Even the car felt empty without her. He’d been so stupidly excited on the drive there, and now he didn’t even want to go back to the house because somehow it already reminded him of Erin. He let the engine idle for a moment, wondering what to do. There was a restaurant and bar nearby that he knew well, The Ram’s Head, which was part of a working sheep ranch. It had been owned by an A-list actor for years. Jay wasn’t much of a drinker, but he headed there anyway. It was a secluded spot—perfect for hiding away—and it was only a few minutes’ drive.
He went straight to the bar, happy to be anonymous, since no one who worked there knew him. He greeted the bartender and ordered a double whiskey, then after a beat added, “And keep ’em coming.” A line out of a cheesy Western, but he didn’t care. He felt exactly like that lonely drifter in every Western who walks into a bar and orders a drink to drown his sorrows. If this really were a Western, some gunslinger would walk in and pick a fight with him. Luckily, mostly tourists and locals had come out for a decent meal or a quiet drink. It was peaceful here. Not showy like the restaurant he’d chosen for Erin. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time, but now that he thought about it, Le Nuit didn’t suit Erin at all. He should have taken her somewhere more relaxed and intimate. He should have brought her here.
He looked out at the rolling green fields full of sheep and then back to the tables around him. Everybody there seemed to be part of a couple, and they were all enjoying each other’s company, talking with ease and laughing. That should have been him and Erin this evening. If he hadn’t made such a mess of things, he could only imagine what they might be getting up to right about now.
The bartender was true to Jay’s request and kept those double whiskeys coming, though he kept an eye on him. Probably making sure he didn’t make any trouble. But Jay was just getting quietly, sloppily drunk.
The day had started so well. The auction had been so much more fun than he’d imagined and now he’d ruined the day. The whole damn weekend. To try and cheer himself up, he thought about the antique movie camera he’d bought, and how he wanted to use it to make a genuine black and white picture. It would be so cool to shoot something on the same kind of camera that had been used to film Citizen Kane .
He kept drinking and as he stared out at those fields of sheep, an idea for a movie came to him. He didn’t usually come up with movie ideas, but he was pretty sure this was a good one. And he knew exactly the two A-listers he wanted.
He pulled out his cell and hit speed dial.
For some reason he had trouble getting the name out. He’d never known Archer was such a difficult word to say. “I’ve got this great idea for a movie ’bout sheep.”
Archer seemed a bit confused. “Jay? Is that you?”
“’Course it is. I’m telling you—I’ve got a great idea for a movie. There are all these sheep. In a field. It’s a meadow—I mean, metaphor. Not an action movie. It’s a metaphor.”
“You want to make a movie about sheep?”
“That’s what I said.” He kept having to repeat himself and Arch seemed to be having trouble understanding. Finally, Jay said, “Never mind. I’ll do you up a treatment, send it over in the morning, but pencil some time in. I want you—you an’ Smith in the starring roles.”
Archer said, “Why don’t I come and get you? You can tell me about the movie while I drive you home.”
“No. I’m good. Get a taxi.”
He got off the phone and then immediately called Smith Sullivan, managing to down another double whiskey between calls. Again, he went through the explanation about the sheep and the metaphor.
Smith said, “You mean you want to make an arthouse movie?”
Jay shook his head from side to side but stopped when he it made him dizzy. “It’s a metaphor,” he insisted. “All the sheep, in a pen. That’s the human condition. But then the ram could have all the sheep and he only wants one. But she won’t have him.”
Jay felt sad, so sad, at the thought of that poor ram who only wanted one sheep, and she rejected him.
Smith asked, “Am I going to be a sheep? Is that what you’re saying?”
“No. I was thinking… a shepherd. You and Archer. Both shepherds.”
Smith said something to Valentina in the background and it kind of sounded like they were laughing. Did they think his movie was a comedy? Finally, irritated with them both, he said, “I’ll get back to you tomorrow. Send you a treatment.”
“You do that.”
When Smith offered to send a car, it reminded Jay that he really needed to get home. Once more he said he’d take a cab. What was with Smith and Archer wanting to ferry him around? He was a grown man. He got up from the barstool and nearly fell on the floor.
The bartender offered to get him a cab, which he thought was very decent, but he said, “No, I’ll walk.” He’d find someone to drive him back for his car in the morning.
He wasn’t sure why he felt this compulsion to walk, but he needed fresh air, and he wanted to smell the ocean. As he headed out, he looked up at the silvery moon and inhaled the salty ocean as he listened to the gentle crash of the waves. It was so beautiful. But its beauty only served to remind him that without Erin, all that lay out there was a whole big world of loneliness. He wished Erin was beside him.
Why did he feel like he’d just made the worst mistake of his life?