Chapter 28
REESE
TRACK: Sinéad O’Connor, “The Last Day of Our Acquaintance”
It’s taken a few days, but I’ve finally gotten it through to people at work that I’m not really into talking about the video, not until the show’s finished filming, anyway.
Not that that stops all of them. Just now, sweet, clueless Todd banged on my office door to show me a remix someone made, adding an electronic beat to the acoustic song that I have to admit was pretty damn good.
I laughed, but after he ran off to show Augusta, Sophie finds me a few minutes later at my desk, chewing my nails.
“You okay, boss?” she asks me.
I nod. “Everyone’s a bit wiggy with the show ending… I thought I’d start coming in again in case anyone needs me.”
Then I realize this means it looks like I’m not trusting everything to Sophie’s very capable hands, like she’s been doing perfectly for the past few weeks. “Not that everything’s not going fine here,” I say.
But apparently Sophie can see right through me—that I’m here because I don’t quite know what else to do with myself—because she comes in and sits down on my couch. “Tell me everything.”
To my surprise, I hesitate only a moment before I spill.
“Oh God, Sophie. It’s just all so much.
I explain how huge it was for me just to get up on that stage, and the video going viral makes those baby steps I was taking turn into high jumps. On steroids. “And Eli…” I swallow.
What I can’t tell Sophie is while some things about this week have been amazing, several things are now rapidly moving from the “I’ll think about it later” category into the “must deal with now” bucket.
Not the least of which are my plans to leave L’Aubergine. While going through my emails last night with Eli, I’d almost missed the one from Caroline. I’d spotted it right as Eli had flagged it for the trash folder—with good reason—the subject line said CONGRATS!
I waited until late, after he was asleep, then guiltily pulled it out of the trash folder and read it.
Good news, Reese! Your offer on the condo in Sebastopol has been accepted! I’m sending the necessary documents to you now…
I’d nearly choked, reading it late last night, Eli snoring softly beside me. I hadn’t heard from Caroline over the past few weeks and assumed the deal hadn’t gone through. But of course, things had been underfoot as I was…what, having fun with Eli?
Now, with my fingernail back between my teeth, Sophie gives me a soft look, thinking I’m still agonizing over the blowback from the video.
“Eli and I are in a really good place,” I say honestly. “But given our past and”—I hesitate. Sophie knows how I used to avoid Eli like the plague, but she doesn’t know our relationship started as a ruse—“the uncertainty about the future, I don’t want anything to wreck that.”
Sophie smiles, sadly. “I think he just wants to see you succeed. Just like everyone else here. We all love you and want the best for you, even if it means you might leave us one day.”
“Oh Sophie,” I say, my lip wobbling. Anything will make me cry right now, but this kindness… I swallow hard. “Thank you.”
“By the way.” Sophie pulls a square of folded paper out of her pocket.
There are two, one of which she hastily folds back up before coming over and handing me the other.
“I was going to wait until you seemed okay with all of this, but honestly, it doesn’t seem like that’s happening.
So now’s as good a time as any to give you this. ”
I look down and suck in a breath. It’s a sketch of me on stage, my face looking exactly how I felt in that moment.
“Sophie,” I croak. Only, it’s then I notice I’m not on the stage at Bean There. This stage looks uncannily like Carnegie Hall. And Talia, Sophie’s daughter, has drawn stars over my head.
My eyes do fill with tears then.
Sophie looks mildly panicked.
“They’re happy,” I say, wiping them away and laughing. “I promise. Talia—she’s incredible. But you already knew that.”
Sophie beams. “She really is.”
“What’s that one?” I ask, wanting to keep the attention off me and my blubbering. I’m genuinely curious, anyway. Talia’s drawings are phenomenal.
Sophie looks down, her cheeks going pink. “Oh, nothing.”
I quirk a brow.
“She drew Rufus as part of our family,” Sophie says shyly. She shows me—Talia’s on a swing, and Rufus pushes her while Sophie watches on, daisies blowing in the wind around them.
My heart fills, and I open my mouth to tell her so, but just then, there’s a racket outside.
It’s not out of the ordinary to hear crashes and hollers out there.
But these hollers are angry.
Sophie looks as alarmed as I feel. “They’re in the middle of filming.”
She’s right. I’m not normally here when they’re filming, but seeing as we’re nearing the end, I’ve been arriving earlier to see how it’s going and yes, to catch the finale. Plus, it’s a good place to hide and be distracted from The Video.
Another shout sounds, and a man’s voice echoes through the gap in my door.
I stand up, a chill going over my skin.
“Reese, Rufus isn’t here. He ran out to the market for Jacques.” Rufus would jump in if there was a threat. Just like Eli, if he were down here.
“I know,” I whisper.
The voices come again, lower this time. Menacing.
I rush toward the door.
“Reese, maybe we should wait,” Sophie starts as I move past her.
“It’s my job,” I say. Then I’m rushing out the door.
But when I round the corner to where they’re filming, I hit an abrupt stop. Because when I see who’s standing there, my skin goes cold, like the temperature in the room has dropped.
I knew. Somehow, I knew.
Jacques is standing to the side, Marcel behind him. Kelly stands off to the side, whispering something urgently into her phone. Nancy’s got her hand up, saying something.
But I can’t hear it. All I see is the man jabbing a finger in Neil’s chest.
“I know she’s here,” the man barks. “So tell me where she is, or I’ll—”
“Simon!” I yell, surprised at the calmness and volume of my voice. It doesn’t match the riot of adrenaline bouncing around in my stomach.
Simon looks just like I remember, only…older. More tired, with a little less hair. He’s still handsome, in that slick, knowing kind of way.
He grins, widely, shoving past Neil to get to me. “Reesey,” he says. That smile used to make me do things—think things—I didn’t want to. It used to have me agreeing with whatever bullshit used to come out of his mouth.
But I was younger then. Na?ve.
Made to think I was small.
And I know a grin a thousand times more beautiful than that one.
Simon takes a step toward me, brushing Neil out of the way.
“Stop!” I shout, putting a hand up. “Stay right there.”
Simon snorts, but stops, looking mildly surprised. Like he thought I’d welcome him with open arms.
Neil’s looking between the two of us. For a moment, I’m sure he’s going to stand up for me. But he looks away, whispering something to Nancy.
Nope.
Inside, my chest is tight with fear. I haven’t seen Simon since the day I walked out of our apartment for the last time. I haven’t heard his voice since I deleted that last angry voicemail on my phone before blocking his number.
But I was brave enough then to leave. And I’m a hell of a lot braver now. I picture that drawing on my desk.
Eli, swinging me around on the video.
I steady my voice. “How did you get in here?”
“Doesn’t matter,” he says, but a crew member behind him looks so stricken with guilt he doesn’t need to tell me. He just followed someone in the door, acting like he owned the place. That was Simon. All that bravado and nothing but jealousy and insecurity inside.
“I’m here now.”
“You shouldn’t be.”
“Oh I know. Mr. Slick here told me.” He jerks his thumb in Neil’s direction. “Closed set and all that.”
I glance at Neil. At least he did try to stop him. But whatever tiny spark of gratitude that comes up is quickly snuffed out when Neil picks up his mic. It’s the one he uses for interviews.
“But now you’re here, and you can tell everyone to back off.”
The cameraman he was speaking to a moment ago hoists his giant camera up on his shoulder.
He’s going to film this. Anger ties a knot in my chest, both at that, and what Simon just said.
“Why would I tell them to back off? You need to leave, Simon.”
Simon laughs, like this is a joke.
“Neil, turn that off,” I say, pointing at the camera. But Neil won’t meet my eye. “Neil!”
Neil glances at me for the briefest moment, and I see the guilt in his eyes.
But it’s gone a moment later as the camera swings toward him and he puts on his TV face, immediately coming up next to Simon and thrusting the mic at him.
“You’re a friend of L’Aubergine’s beloved restaurant manager, are you? ”
Simon ignores him, taking a step toward me.
“Simon, stop!”
“How long were you together before Reese took up with Eli? Were you still an item?”
Despite my panic, my jaw falls open. “What the hell?”
Once again Neil won’t look at me, and it’s then I realize what’s happening. He’s trying to make me the scandal.
“No, Neil,” I say, barely keeping my anger contained. “I haven’t seen Simon Houghton in years. He has no reason to be here.”
But Simon laughs. “Oh come on. You asked me to be here.”
“What?”
“That song. Those words.” He says it like it’s so obvious.
I wrack my brain, trying to think of what he could possibly be talking about.
Simon smiles in this patronizing way. How did I ever think that was attractive? “Reese. I saw your video. ‘Switch all your tomorrows for one yesterday’?”
Finally, through his botched rendering of Joplin’s lyrics, I understand. He thinks I sang the song lamenting about a lover lost was for him.
I’m so stunned I don’t notice the murmur of the crowd gathered around us. Someone’s pushing through everyone standing around.
Someone urgently calling someone else. “Wait!” I hear vaguely.
“Was the song for him, Reese?” Neil asks, the mic in my face now.
My heart thunders in my chest, my palms sweaty.
“You’re delusional,” I say. To Neil and to Simon. But they’re both looking at me, waiting for me to answer.
Simon takes another step. “It was for me, wasn’t it, Reesey?”
I open my mouth to say, “No.”
But it’s not my voice that comes out. It’s a loud, angry male voice.
I whip my face toward what I realize is a now openly murmuring crowd, and the man stepping out of it.
Eli.
Like I’ve never seen him before. He’s so furious looking he seems to have grown to twice his normal size. Which says a lot given his normal size.
“No,” he says again, not so loud but somehow more commanding. “You don’t get to say her name,” he says to Simon, his voice barely contained.
My chest fills with a gratitude so deep I let out a sound, half gasp, half whimper. I didn’t know how badly I needed him here until he showed up. Reminding me how a real partner should be.
Eli takes my hand. “You okay?” His voice is low.
I nod. “I am now.” I feel reinvigorated, like I know what to say to Simon. With Eli at my side, I can tell him exactly where to go. I go to take a step forward, but Simon does the same, and Eli nearly shoves me behind him.
“Eli,” I say.
But he doesn’t seem to hear me. My chest tightens.
The kitchen door swings open, and I hear the fast clack of heels walking—no, running toward us. “Eli!” a woman’s voice calls.
Cassandra.
“I’m going to ask you one time, nicely, to leave,” Eli says, his voice as tight as a steel cord. “I won’t ask a second time.”
Simon smirks. “That wasn’t very nice. Now I’m going to ask you to kindly give me my girl.”
Simon doesn’t even see it coming. One minute, he’s standing, the next, there’s a sickening crunch and Eli’s fist is where his face was. Simon’s head is tipped back, his eyes rolled up, blood spurting from his nose.
Someone’s screaming. Cass, I think.
No, Simon.
Or is it me? I clap my hand over my mouth just in case, then I turn and run.