Chapter nineteen Kendra
Chapter nineteen
Kendra
Damon
Damon: You would think the person who suggested a horror movie marathon could handle jump scares, LOL!
Shut up! I wasn’t scared of the jump scares!
Damon: Oh no?
Damon: Then who spilled all the popcorn when “Derpy Darth Maul” showed up behind Patrick Wilson?
Damon sends a thinking emoji for good measure, and I roll my eyes before locking my phone. I didn’t spill all the popcorn. Half at the most.
“What’s got you grinning like Julia Roberts in ‘Pretty Woman’?” Denise asks as she pulls up a chair next to me.
We just got news that the Brooklyn Academy of Music—BAM for short—has agreed to host Denise’s show, and decided to take a well-deserved break. It’s been days of calls, emails, and even knocking on doors to lock down the tailors and seamstresses needed to make the forty chosen looks.
“Did someone just buy you a diamond necklace?” She smirks. “Or maybe a pearl one?”
I throw a handful of Skinny Pop at her from the bowl sitting between us. She swats it away, and her cat, Clawdette, pounces on the offending kernels.
“You nasty!” I say with a giggle. “If you must know, I was texting with Damon. We went to Fright Fest in Chelsea over the weekend, and now he’s talking trash.”
Denise’s eyebrows shoot up her forehead, and I brace for the inevitable inquisition.
“Damon, huh? I wasn’t sure that was a thing after what happened at The Met event.”
I hide my wince. I don’t like to think about that night. Apparently, finding out your ex is marrying his sidepiece can make you do some crazy things. Hurt people who didn’t deserve it.
“We’re not a thing. He and I are just friends. I had an extra ticket, and he was available. That’s all.”
Denise’s expression turns skeptical.
“I don’t know, Kendra. The look on your face said ‘sexting with my boo’, not ‘discussing film with my colleague’.”
She puts her pinky up and pretends to adjust glasses on her nose. I throw more popcorn, this time landing some in her cleavage.
“Well, I don’t know what to tell you. He and I are just kicking it. He’s got his hands full with his coaching job, and I’m focused on helping you with the line.”
Now it’s Denise’s turn to roll her eyes.
“As if there’s not time to get a little booty. Girl, I don’t keep you here twenty-four hours a day. Spill it.”
She puts her elbows on the table and bats her eyelashes, letting me know she won’t drop this until I come clean. I sigh.
“He and I are just friends,” I begin. She twirls her finger, urging me to go on. “But…we did hook up once.” Denise gasps, and I rush to add, “But it was a long time ago, and we both agreed not to take it any further!”
“Kendra!” she says with a playful glare. “How could you not tell me you’re dating my boyfriend’s brother? We see each other like five days a week!”
“OK, first,” I reply defensively, “I already told you we’re not dating. It was one time, and we didn’t even really do it.”
“What do you mean, you didn’t ‘really do it’?”
“Secondly,” I continue, ignoring her question, “didn’t you date your best friend’s husband’s brother for months without telling her? If I remember correctly, you and Cory were already official when she found out.”
Denise sits back in her chair, pouting.
“I knew I shouldn’t have told you that,” she grumbles. “I’m not judging; I’m just saying I would’ve liked to talk about it with you. We could’ve been going on double dates all this time. Damon’s a great guy.”
Her tone is more gentle now; she obviously didn’t mean to make me feel attacked. Working on this project together, she’s become one of my closest friends. I retract my claws.
“You’re right. Damon is a great guy. I’m the problem. I’m not in a good place to start a relationship right now.” At her questioning glance, I continue. “After everything that happened with Andre, I’m more than a little gun-shy.”
I don’t miss her flinch. It’s terrible luck that my ex shares the name of the brother she lost years ago. It’s even worse that he keeps coming up, like a pimple that just won’t go away. All the more reason not to drag anyone else into my bullshit.
She doesn’t say anything; just places her hand over mine. It should be comforting, but it feels strange. Isn’t it my job to paste a smile on my face and push through, no matter what happens?
I pull away, walking to the kitchen to get us both a glass of wine. Denise stretches back in her chair.
“I don’t blame you for being careful. If it were me, I’m not sure I’d ever want to get into a relationship again.”
“I won’t say I’ll never get serious with someone,” I hedge. “I just don’t think that ‘someone’ should be the very next guy after my ex. Damon already said he wants more than a fling; I don’t want to turn him into some messy rebound.”
We both sit in silence for a while, drinking our wine and digesting everything I’ve shared.
“I will say this,” Denise says after a beat. “You and Damon sound a lot like how Cory and I started.”
I turn to give her my full attention.
“After one drunken night together, I thought all we could be was fuck buddies. We even tried it a few times. But eventually, it became clear we were more than that.
“How we got together was hardly a Hollywood ‘meet cute’, but it didn’t stop him from being my person, no matter how many times I tried to push him away.”
“Well, damn,” I mutter, setting down my now empty wine glass.
“I’m not telling you what to do—you’re a grown woman. You’re Kendra fuckin’ Gray!” I grin. “But given how well you two get along as friends and how good that first time must’ve been to still be on your mind, maybe it’s worth considering that he could be more than just a rebound.”
I take our wine glasses and put them in the dishwasher, signaling the end of the discussion. She takes the hint, and we get back to her list of tailors before calling it a night.
Hours later, curled up on my couch with a stack of pictures from my last shoot, I can’t shake her words. I’m not ready to go all in, not yet, but maybe I can take baby steps towards something real.
I just signed an endorsement with a company that makes organic energy drinks, and they’re hosting a party next month.
There’s a chance Andre might be there—he’s everywhere I am lately—and I’d rather not get blindsided again.
I could go alone…I could ask Daniela about her roommate…
Or, I could ask a friend to do me a tiny favor, just for one night.
My mind made up, I hit the recent number on my call log. Damon answers on the first ring.
“Hey lady.”
Just hearing him makes me smile.
“Hey,” I murmur, my voice suddenly breathy. “So…I have an event coming up. It’s nothing fancy, but I’d rather have a date in case my ex decides to crash again.” I hesitate. This could be a mistake. “Would you come with me?”
Seconds tick by before he answers, his voice carefully neutral.
“Like a date, or is this an escort situation?”
I giggle nervously.
“Denise was actually talking about ‘Pretty Woman’ earlier today. I could be your Richard Gere for the night.”
“So that makes me a prostitute?” he asks with a laugh. “If so, I’m not cheap.”
I smirk even though he can’t see me.
“There won’t be any sex. I just need someone on my arm so I don’t look pathetic since the news about Andre’s engagement is still pretty fresh.”
“Pathetic?!” Damon gasps, appalled. “Who would think you’re pathetic just because you don’t have a date?”
I scoff.
“Plenty of people, I assure you. Reporters especially.”
He mutters something under his breath before asking,
“Are you sure it’s a good idea? We might have to put on a show again to convince people I’m your date.”
I swallow, my throat suddenly dry. I’d put on a show with him any day.
“Would that…” I swallow again. “Be ok? It would just be for the night. I’m not asking you to fake it indefinitely.”
More muttering. He’s clearly conflicted, but I can feel his resolve weakening.
“There will be free food, an open bar, and I’m pretty sure they’ll give out swag bags, too,” I offer.
“Alright,” he chuckles, finally relenting. “I’ll go with you.”
I squeal and clap my hands together, earning another chuckle.
“But no funny business, OK? If he’s a no-show, we’re just there as friends. I haven’t changed my mind about what I said before.”
“We won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with,” I promise.
“Deal,” he agrees.
I just hope he’s comfortable with a kiss by the time the event comes around. I’m still jonesing from the last one.