Chapter 7
T he next morning, I wake up early for a real client meeting. Not the fake one I made up to keep myself from kissing Charlie.
After I left him by the lake, I took a long walk and ended up in the River North Gallery District, which has the second-largest concentration of art galleries in the country, after Manhattan.
As a designer, I bring my clients to these galleries all the time to help them choose pieces.
But until yesterday, I’d never been on my own, just to browse.
I thought it would feed my soul—but instead it left me feeling hungrier.
Hungry to quit my design job. Hungry to make my own art and see it hanging on these walls. And let’s face it…
Hungry for Charlie.
But I made my decision, and I’m sure he’ll be much better off without me in his life.
So instead of feeding my desire for Charlie Sutton, I stopped by his family’s grocery store and tried to satisfy my hunger with a hundred dollars’ worth of sweet and salty snacks.
Not surprisingly, it only made me feel worse.
I woke up this morning with a pounding head and heartburn on top of my heartache.
Which is why, as I stand outside the front door of the Gold Coast home my client inherited from her wealthy grandparents after they moved to Florida, I have to take several deep breaths and practice smiling before I’m ready to ring the doorbell. As soon as I do, Katie appears.
“Jenna, ohmygod, hi!” she squeals, hugging me and hopping up and down.
I’ll give it my best shot, but I doubt I’ll come close to matching her energy this morning. She’s bouncy and bubbly, like I try to be most days. But, lately, it’s getting harder for me to pretend.
Katie’s twenty-two, recently graduated from college with a degree in filmmaking, and lives in one of the country’s most affluent neighborhoods—in a converted building big enough to house two large families.
Her style couldn’t differ more from her grandmother’s, who decorated mostly with florals and lace, so Katie hired me to help modernize her new home.
We’ve been working together since I moved to Chicago two months ago, and today I’ll be putting the finishing touches on the place with a shipment of art pieces that arrived over the weekend.
“Come on in,” Katie says, grabbing my hand and pulling me into the first of two living rooms on the main floor. “Doesn’t the house look amazing? I know we still have artwork to hang, but I’m already so happy with how everything came together.”
I have to admit, the place looks stunning.
I undoubtedly fulfilled Katie’s wishes, with brighter colors, modern furniture that’s stylish yet functional, and a remodeled kitchen with an extra-long island that will be perfect for entertaining.
She wanted a home she could enjoy now, but also grow into—and she got it.
“So it turns out my family won’t be able to visit me until Thanksgiving,” she says with a frown.
“But I was thinking of posting a video on my YouTube channel so they can see what a phenomenal job you did. I hate to ask…but do you think I could film you explaining your design process? I mean, no one watches my videos besides my family, so it doesn’t have to be perfect or anything. ”
There’s a look in Katie’s eyes that I know all too well.
She’s lonely.
Of course she’s lonely, living by herself in this enormous house. In this big city, without her family. Square footage aside, I know how she feels.
I would have said yes to letting her film me regardless, but now I’m determined to stop feeling sorry for myself and help put the bounce back in Katie’s step, by making a video both she and her family will love.
After we arrange her new artwork, Katie starts filming.
She starts with some B-roll footage of the outside of the house, as well as every individual room, to establish the setting.
When she’s finished, we go to the kitchen, and she puts the camera on a tripod so she can film us chatting about her vision for the space.
Then, as we walk through each room, I talk about my creative process—which mostly entails learning about my clients’ favorite things.
They tell me about the music they listen to, their hobbies, their most beloved clothes and accessories, and I look for emerging themes.
Then I start curating pieces that have a similar feel.
In Katie’s case, since she grew up near the ocean and gravitates toward blues and sea-greens, we chose accents in those colors.
Her clothing style is minimalist—nothing too bold or busy—so I picked furniture to match that aesthetic.
Finally, she loves yoga, so I designed the bathrooms to have a tranquil, spa-like feel, with orchids, wood accents, and a centerpiece bathtub surrounded by river rocks and greenery.
“Now tell everyone at home about the artwork we chose for the primary bedroom,” Katie directs me from behind the camera.
“Well, since you shared with me that you’re a big fan of Lola Piper, and your favorite album is Nightfall , we decided to go with a starry sky theme,” I explain.
As I make my way around the room, Katie films me discussing the paintings—and now I don’t have to work so hard to radiate joy.
The smile on my face is real. “These watercolors in various shades of blue fit perfectly with your color scheme, and the muted tones provide the perfect calming atmosphere for a good night’s sleep. ”
“Eek, that was perfect!” Katie exclaims when she turns off the camera. “Thanks so much, Jenna! My family is going to love this.”
“It was my pleasure. And be sure to share the link to your video with me. I’d love to see the finished product,” I tell her.
“That’s sweet. I will,” she replies with a thoughtful nod, before she hugs me.
The following evening, Katie shares her video with me over text, but I don’t watch it right away, because I’m too busy deep-cleaning my apartment in an effort to keep myself from knocking on Charlie’s door.
Every time my phone rings or chimes, I think it’s him—which is unlikely, considering we never exchanged numbers.
Also, because I abandoned him by the lake.
If he were to Google me, he’d find my interior design website, and he could send me a message via my web form…but why would he want to do that? Even if he had been interested in me, I’m sure he moved on the second I rounded the Lakefront Trail and scurried out of sight.
Yet, I still find myself wondering what I’d say if he knocked on my door. The more I think about his sultry eyes, and the pillowy lips I almost kissed, the more I keep trying to convince myself that what I feel for Charlie is only lust. At least then, I could spend more time with him.
If I’m being honest, that’s what I want more than anything. More time. Because our coffee date on Sunday was the most perfect date of my life. And here I am, two days later, missing him. So much .
It’s totally normal to deeply miss someone you only have lustful feelings for, right?
After I finish scrubbing my kitchen tiles, I put myself to bed early and hope I’ll wake up in a better state of mind. Luckily, all that grunt work exhausted me, and I sleep like a baby. But I’m still not prepared for what I wake up to the next morning.
When I check my cell phone, which I’d silenced before bed, I have eighteen missed calls…and thirty-seven text messages.
My first instinct is to worry that there’s been a family emergency, but the missed calls aren’t only from my parents and Christy.
They’re from Sunny, Vanessa, Greg (the guy I had that terrible date with), a dozen people I haven’t spoken to since college or grad school—and my client, Katie.
Why the heck are so many people from so many different chapters of my life calling me?
I chew on my bottom lip as I open my text messages. What I see makes me queasy.
You’re internet famous! one of the messages says.
Holy shit, u went viral, reads another.
Omg you’re a star!
And so on and so forth. Until:
I just watched your video!!!
My eyebrows draw together, wondering what video my friends and family could be talking about. I barely have a few seconds to wrack my brain before I receive another text—from Dex this time.
Call me.
My heart stops. Is this the moment I’ve feared? All these years I’ve worried about photos of me and Dex getting leaked…
Is it possible someone posted a video of us?
I mean, he did have security cameras all over his house. Not in his bedroom, of course. But there were certainly times when we?—
Oh god.
Panic courses through me as I go back to the screen displaying my missed calls.
Sunny tried to reach me an hour ago. I can only imagine how she must be feeling, and the thought makes me ill.
Do I call her back first? Or should I talk to Dex ?
I’m in the middle of an existential crisis when my phone rings again.
It’s Christy.
“Hello?” I ask with a sinking feeling in my gut.
If this is all about me and Dex—and what else could it be?
—I have no idea how my sister will react.
We never discuss our sex lives. As far as I know, she’s only ever been with her boyfriend, Kyle.
And while she knows that Dex and I hung out in high school, she has no idea we became involved again when I moved to LA. Well, not until today, anyway.
“Jenna! Finally! Where have you been? I’ve been calling you all morning!” she says, the urgency in her voice clear as day. “I’m so incredibly proud of you!”
She’s proud ? That I slept with a movie star and it’s all over the Internet?
Hmm. I guess Christy’s more progressive than I thought.
“You looked gorgeous,” she goes on. “I mean, of course you did—you always do. Everyone’s so excited!”
“Everyone’s…what?” I stammer.
“Excited! Yeah, Mom already sent the video to her entire book club.”
“Her…her…book club?” I ask, breaking into a sweat.
“And that says a lot, considering Mom’s not easily enthused,” Christy goes on, her tone gleeful.