Chapter 8
8
J AMES
“Motherfucker Preston.”
Lex’s voice explodes with genuine surprise at the other end of the phone line, followed by a chuckle that vibrates in my ear.
I lean back against the sofa, a drink nearby, the jet’s engines softly humming.
“When did he talk to you?” I ask.
“This afternoon. I can’t believe he stayed quiet for so long.”
“He did a little number on me, too, making me come to him. I had Rain with me as well.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“There was nothing to tell. He called me a week ago while he was still back home. He said he needed to run something important by me. I thought it was about the business. Then he said he wanted me in Monte Carlo. Again, I thought it was about the business. He suggested bringing Rain with me and making it a nice long weekend. I liked the idea, but still, I never thought it would be personal.”
“When is he coming back?”
“A month from now, when she finishes school.”
“I’ll be damned. Ed Preston is going to be a father. I have a hard time lodging that in my head.”
I lean forward, reaching to the small table in front of me and fishing out a cigarette from the pack.
“He’s different,” I say, slipping it between my lips.
Slowly, I run the flame over the tip and suck in a short drag before releasing the smoke quickly.
“Yeah... Different he is. He got sneaky,” he says.
I laugh.
“No, no. Seriously. You’ll know what I mean when you see him. I’m happy for him. He’s changed. He cares for her. I talked to him before I left. And don’t tell him you know this from me, but he will be a great father. The man walks on clouds––he is so happy.”
“So, you were right.”
“I’m always right, motherfucker,” I say.
He chuckles.
“When are you coming back?”
“Good question...” I say before taking another drag. “I may need to fly back to Monte Carlo after I’m done in Singapore. At the end of the week, most likely. It’s part of the reason Ed was so hush-hush about everything. If he returns home next month, I must continue what he started in Monaco. And I need to do it as quickly as possible.”
“Why?”
I loosen my tie knot before grabbing my drink, pulling an ashtray close to me, and propping my legs on the table.
A smile tugs at my lips.
“I may not have much time.”
He stays quiet for a few good moments.
“What are you talking about, James?”
His voice beams with concern.
I take a long breath before speaking again.
“Do you remember that one summer––I think we were eight or nine when we went camping and put up our tent by the water? It was the middle of July, and we were all by ourselves.”
“Yup. I remember.”
“That day was perfect. There was no breeze, the temperature was mild, and the sky was cloudless.”
“Uh-huh.”
“We spent the entire day swimming before eating our food by the fire in the afternoon. The evening was perfect too. The sky was littered with stars, the place was quiet, and fireflies swarmed the woods. Had we left that moment, it would’ve been a perfect day. One of the best memories we’d ever had.”
“I hear you, man.”
“Then, the wind started to blow, spinning and throwing branches at us, and suddenly, we couldn’t see the stars anymore. The sky became a dark backdrop with no lights whatsoever. The rain came down like a torrent, sweeping our tent off the ground. We almost lost Ed in that gush of water.”
Silence comes from the other end of the line as if he knows the point of my story.
“You probably know what I’m talking about. I pondered this thought a while back...” I say before inhaling smoke and letting it out in a long exhale.
I take a swing of my drink.
“The perfect storm,” I murmur, staring blankly at my glass.
“What are you saying, man?”
“We’ve had a good run, building tremendous wealth all these years. Everything is bigger and better than we anticipated. We found our women. Rain, Dahlia, and now, Thea. We’ve seen growth, abundance, peace, and calm. We’ve had fun,” I say, smiling. “But when good things last for a long time, a shifting point is waiting to happen. A moment when you go from the perfect time of your life to a string of bad luck. Call it the fuckery of life, but that’s how it always happens. Sometimes you see the signs, and sometimes you don’t because everything is in the background, brewing. And the signs are hard to catch and even harder to read. It happened to my father after my mother left. The stocks plunged, and the economy went down that year, and that’s how he got caught in a downward spiral. His business took a hit, affecting his finances, and his personal life went to hell.”
I take another drink and place the glass on the table before leaning back in my seat.
“I didn’t understand the mechanics of it back then, but the memory of it stayed with me, and I think it’s happening to me right now.”
“What do you mean, man?”
“There’s a window of opportunity with this business. And that is right now at this very moment. That’s why I was rushing to set everything up at once. But once I started doing it, things started to shift, aligning into something different. I can’t tell exactly what it is because I can’t see all of it right now, but my gut tells me I’m right. Many variables have come to life, pushing and pulling, and the faster I try to get everything off the ground before it all crumbles, the more accelerated the antagonistic process becomes. It’s a race against time and other factors that I can’t control. At this moment, these factors are not entirely known.”
“You’re not saying what I think you’re saying.”
“Yup. That’s exactly what I’m saying. I’m running a race, and the signs are not in my favor. The closer I get to the finish line, the more obstacles arise and the more factors are in play. When Ed invited me to his suite in Monte Carlo because he wanted to talk privately before having dinner with me, I had no idea he’d get married and have a child, but something told me it might be one of those unpredictable shifts. And sure enough, it was. He knew it too... He knew it would affect our lives but couldn’t see the entire picture. I don’t blame him. As I said, marriage and kids are part of life. I want them for myself. Why wouldn’t I want them for him or you? That aside, I needed a clue, and it came in the form of his news. He knew it would affect Rain. And it did, but that’s a much older story. My first clue was Rain. It all came insidiously. It wasn’t obvious. Nothing was clear. But I sensed she’d grown unhappy. And I don’t know if it was because of my schedule that had kept me away from home for so many months or some internal process that had affected her, but her life started to shift toward different things. Something else had unsettled her, and she kind of confirmed it to me, but it wasn't clear to her. She’s become more anxious these past few weeks since my absence put a strain on our relationship. She didn’t take Ed’s news well. I mean, she is happy for him, but she knows what Ed’s coming back home means for us. She thought she had it bad before these new developments, but now she is convinced she’ll see even less of me, and that’s a fact. It will happen. We argued last night, and she said exactly what I feared she’d say regarding our business, but I didn’t want to admit it to her. Besides, she–– like Ed–– doesn’t have the full picture, but she was right about our business. I’m taking a big risk right now, and I’m counting on hitting the ground running and not dealing with anything crazy before pulling the money out to cover the debt so that the business stays profitable. If things go as planned, the payout would be enormous. And then, and only then, I will cash out and give her the life that she wants... But I’m not thinking about that right now.”
A few moments of silence pass before I continue.
“I will ride this storm if it comes my way––the way I think it does. I can’t tell how much damage it will make, if any,” I add before pausing again. “Anyway, I hope I’m wrong.”
“How are things with Rain?”
“We’re good for now. I tried to talk some sense into her. As I said before, it’s more than meets the eye with her. I think she goes through some soul-searching experience and wants something different. It hit me when I saw Ed this weekend. He is completely changed. In a few short weeks, he went from the man who didn’t want to complicate Thea’s life to the man who is Thea Porter’s life. That’s how I realized I’m witnessing the same change in Rain. She went from the woman who had everything under control and could easily distance herself from me if she needed to, to someone who needed me like air. I see her torn. She’s battling those conflicting feelings that leave her angered and confused, and that makes her my weak link. I don’t want to lose my marriage, and for now, I did my best to explain these things to her, inject some confidence into her, and make her strong enough. But it’s too early to know if it will work or not. For now, it does, or that’s what I like to think, at least. There was no way I wanted to talk to her about my fears. That’s something only for your ears.”
“When it happens, if it happens, we’ll ride that storm together,” he says. “You can always go conservatively on the expenditures if you think it makes more sense.”
“I thought about it, but that would only prolong the uncertainty, so I plan to get a quick response from the market and see if it’s a viable business. If it’s meant to fail, it should happen fast. I’m not going to go full-on with all branches. I’ll get them up and running before pushing them further up, one by one.”
Silence fills the space for a few moments.
“I’m sorry to hear that, man... If there’s anything I can do to make this easier for you, just let me know. I can travel if you want me to.”
“No. I need you there. Take care of your family and our business, and keep an eye on Rain for me. All right?”
“Okay. I will.”
We hang up a moment later.
I set the phone down and look out the plane window. All I see is the blue sky and heavy clouds suspended in the air.
My mind goes adrift as I stretch my legs and sink back into my seat.
For some reason, my old man comes to mind, and flashbacks from the past. The day my mother left and the weeks after.
My father’s money problems, the uncertainty.
He spent most of his nights out while Lex and Ed kept me company at my place. That’s how I learned to pretend that everything was all right.
And then I remember the sparse encounters with my father, the apparent tension in his body, eyes, and words. The cryptic dialogue we occasionally had.
He never talked about his problems, let alone about my mother, but I knew something was wrong. I knew what was going on, even back then, when I had the attention span of a goldfish.
He eventually rode that storm––we both did––but he’s never been the same. If it was hard to live with him before, it got ten times worse afterward. He was never bad to me, but he wasn’t close to me, either.
And that’s how I learned... You might survive a storm, but you could lose everything that’s good inside yourself doing it.
* * *
RAIN
A gust of wind busts a window open, letting a squeal of rain inside the room.
“Shit,” I murmur, leaping out of bed and rushing to the window to close it.
Water shimmers on the floor, forming little puddles at my feet. What’s up with this weather?
The sky was clear moments ago, the sunset spellbinding as always, and now it’s hell outside.
Leaning forward, I peek through the wall of windows.
Sprinkled with raindrops, the grass gleams, clouds of petals spinning in the air.
The view is beautiful, despite the nasty weather.
I gaze away from the window and walk back to the bed.
From the bowl sitting on the nightstand, I pick a blueberry and pop it into my mouth before taking a sip of cold coffee and sliding onto the bed.
I place my laptop on my lap and start typing.
A few more words pour onto the page, and my mind wanders away. Slowly, I move my eyes to my thigh-high socks before focusing on my phone.
What time is it in Singapore?
No. I don't want to think about that.
I should get back to work.
I barely type another sentence before my phone hums on the bed. I snatch it up and tip my gaze down. Eve’s name flashes across the screen.
Oops, a video call.
“What’s my favorite author doing?” she asks, smiling.
I laugh.
“Squirming.”
“How many chapters until you finish your book?”
“Seven.”
“Oh...” she says.
I hear the cadence of her steps against the sidewalk.
“Where are you?”
“I just finished work, and I’m going to the gym.”
“Good girl.”
She chuckles, entertained.
“It has nothing to do with me being dedicated. We got a new instructor in the spinning class, and he’s kind of cute. It makes the time go by faster.”
“I see.”
“What’s new with you?”
I swing my arm––my phone clutched in my grip–– and give her a view of my room.
“I’m working. The weather sucks. The house is empty. You know... The usual stuff.”
“I don’t think this thing is working for you,” she says, swinging past people, slicing her way down the busy streets of New York.
“Writing?”
“Uh-huh. You get too anxious, sitting alone in a room… writing.”
“I have to finish this book.”
“Finish it and take a break. Get out. Travel. Go visit James.”
“Visit James??”
“Yeah. Why the hell not? I get it that you don’t want to follow him around like a lost puppy, but you should visit him once in a while. See what he’s up to.”
I laugh.
“Are you saying I should show up unannounced?” I ask, a grin tilting my lips.
Her chuckle fills my ears.
“I don’t know about that. It’s up to you. I wouldn’t do it. I, um... think? But I would go see him. How long has it been since you saw him last time?”
“Three weeks.”
“That’s a lot of time.”
“I’m not flying to Asia just to see him. No fucking way.”
“Didn’t you say he’d travel to Europe now that Ed comes home?”
“Yes. Next week.”
“There. Where is he staying?”
“The same place. Hotel de Paris Monte Carlo.”
“Perfect. You should go there, and if you find those two men we spotted three weeks ago, make sure you let them know I’m still thinking about them,” she says, pushing the door open to one of New York’s finest gym clubs.
Her footsteps echo in a hallway.
She swings past the reception area before entering the locker room.
“What do you think?” she asks.
“Huh?”
“About my idea?”
“Um... I’ll think about it.”
“If you don’t want to fly to Europe, come here. There’s a music festival in Central Park this weekend, and we can spend some time over there and go shopping afterward. Eat out at a nice restaurant,” she says, shedding her work clothes and pulling on her athletic gear.
“I could do that,” I say, musing.
“Good. I’ll cancel all my dates,” she says so seriously I almost believe her for a second.
But then she laughs.
“I wanted to see if you were paying attention to me.”
I chuckle too.
“Okay, then,” she says, a bit rushed. “Let me know if you want to come. I’d love to see you here.”
“I will.”
I hang up and drop the phone on the bed before pivoting and stretching my hand out to reach the tray on the nightstand.
I pick up a chocolate-covered pretzel and take a bite, moving my focus back to my work.
Ten seconds later, I mull over Eve’s idea. I could leave for New York a day earlier and...
I don’t have the chance to finish my thought when footsteps resonate around the house, trailing across the hallway before stopping in front of my door.
A crazy thought pops into my head.
He can’t be back, can he?
Hope grows in me, bringing a smile to my lips.
Is this a surprise? Showing up unexpectedly?
Brimming with anticipation, I swing my eyes to the entrance.
I hear a soft knock on the door and quickly grapple with disappointment.
He wouldn’t knock.
The door cracks open, a male silhouette filling the doorway.
“Rain?”
“Lex??”
I wrestle with surprise.
Dressed casually––a blue cotton shirt open at the neckline and white jeans with a leather belt––Lex steps in.
I clamber out of bed, forgetting about the laptop. The gadget slides off my bare legs, landing smack in the middle of the floor.
“I’m sorry,” I apologize as he scoops it up from the floor.
Instinctively, I grab the hemline of my top and tug at it, covering my shorts as much as I can.
I take the laptop from his hand and place it on the bed before turning to him.
“Hey,” he says, smiling softly.
Beads of rain glimmer in his hair, sparkling like his eyes.
“Hey. What are you doing here?” I ask, grinning.
“We’re going out tonight.”
My eyebrows wiggle up as I look at him incredulously.
“Out?”
I remain in the middle of the room as he walks to the windows, slides the curtains to the side, and opens them wide.
The rain has stopped, and the sunset shines over the horizon.
He turns around.
“Out?” I ask again.
He gives me a warm smile.
“Yeah. The big boss asked me to check on you and make sure you get out of the house.”
“Did he?”
He looks at me, his hands tucked in his pockets, his lips curved into a smile.
“Yes.”
“Where’s Dahlia?”
“Visiting her mom.”
“She knows about this?”
“Of course she does.”
“Where do you want to take me?”
“Anywhere outside this bedroom,” he says, dragging his gaze around. “When was the last time you left the house?” he asks.
I plop onto the bed.
“Did Veronica talk to you?”
He moves his gaze back to me.
“Who’s Veronica?”
“The housekeeper.”
“She probably did, but not to me.”
“She ratted me out to James?”
“Most likely,” he says, grinning.
“We can have dinner here.”
“Out of the house,” he says, smiling. “His instructions were clear.”
Grinning, I push off the bed.
“Okay. Give me a few minutes.”
I dash to the walk-in closet and almost fall over the racks as I spin around, looking for something to wear.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say hurriedly.
It takes me less than ten minutes to put on a summer dress, brush my hair, and slip into a pair of sandals.
On my way out, I check my dress in the mirror. The soft floral fabric tapers nicely at the waist before flaring at the bottom.
It stops above my knees, closing with a zipper down the back.
“Is it cold outside?” I ask, eyeing a cropped sweater as well.
“No. But take something with you anyway. It might get cold later.”
I snatch it up just in case.
Moments later, I enter the bedroom.
“Ready?” he asks, giving me a quick once over.
“Am I good?” I ask in one breath.
“You’re perfect,” he says, smiling.
Minutes later, we climb into his Ferrari and leave the mansion behind.
He lets me pick the restaurant––a small Italian place with a few tables in the backyard. I used to come here often when Eve was in town.
“They have the best Pizza Napoletana,” I say, taking a seat at a small round table.
“Great. That’s what we’ll have.”
The waitress takes the order and walks away while we stay quiet at the table. The evening paints the sky in dark tones, the sunset fading at the horizon.
A mellow tune drifts through the air when the waitress brings a bottle of red wine and two plates of appetizers to the table.
We taste the delicious food before sipping wine.
“Mmm... I’ve missed this,” I say, chewing on a slice of prosciutto.
“Eating?” he asks jokingly.
I grin.
“Going out with someone.”
“Me, too,” he says, humor lining his voice.
I wag my finger at him.
“You and I are not alike. There’s no point in trying to make me feel better.”
“You can go out with Dahlia,” he says.
“I did go out with her a lot. On the same token, I could go out by myself, but there’s no point in doing that.”
“How’s the book coming along?” he asks, not commenting on my remark.
“Good,” I say, nodding and chewing. “It could be better if my head were there. You have no idea how many times I wanted to give up on it.”
He studies me for a moment.
“You’re too young to lock yourself in a room and spend your life writing,” he says in a lighter voice.
“That’s what I thought,” I joke.
My smile fades as I dip my gaze to my plate.
“I always thought I had a perfect life,” I say quietly.
He catches the nuance right away.
“Are you talking about writing or life in general?”
I press my napkin against my lips before swallowing a morsel of food.
“Writing, life... Everything,” I say, trying to evade his eyes and hide my feelings.
He lifts his glass of wine to his lips and tips it back, slowly taking a drink.
“Do you have any regrets?” he asks.
My eyes flick up from his fingers.
This is an unexpected question. I ponder and also try to read his eyes but have no luck.
“Regrets? No. I wish I had the power to change things. That’s all.”
He sets his glass on the table, his eyes following the slow motion.
“What would your perfect life look like?”
I suddenly feel nervous and have a hard time putting my thoughts into words.
“What would you change if you had that power?” he rephrases.
I tip my gaze down and stare blankly at my plate before raising my eyes.
“Back in the day, before James, I wanted a life built around my writing career. I never wanted to be a celebrity or anything like that. I’m not chasing that kind of thing now, either. I wouldn’t live like a hermit if I were. Back then, I wanted a small place I could call home and nice surroundings to inspire me.”
“And after James?”
I sigh… And smile.
“After James, I wanted James, and everything else fell to the side. I didn’t plan it to happen that way, but it did. My books and writing were no longer enough. I like writing. I still do, but I can’t stay still long enough to write the way I want to. Or I’m supposed to. And I know it’s wrong.”
“Why do you think it’s wrong?”
Our conversation gets briefly interrupted as the waitress sets the pizza on the table.
The delicious smell of melted cheese and broiled tomatoes seasoned with herbs enters my nostrils, making me forget about his question.
We focus solely on our food for a few good minutes, but once we satiate our hunger, the dialogue begins to gear toward the previous topic.
“You said it was wrong to feel that way,” he says.
“Yes, I did.”
“Why?”
“Because I have a perfect life.”
“By what standards?”
I shrug.
“I don’t know. Everybody's standards.”
He nods.
“No one can argue that, but you shouldn’t blame yourself because you feel that way.”
“You think?”
“Yeah... It’s natural.”
I look at him, surprised.
“It’s the first time I hear that.”
“Dissatisfaction is deep-seated in all of us. It’s the force that drives us through life. Sometimes to better things and sometimes to worse things. It depends. But it’s extremely effective. Very few things get done out of a place of comfort, and many of them get accomplished because of our continuous dissatisfaction with something.”
I have an epiphany.
“But see, that’s the thing... I’m afraid that questioning my life would get me to a bad place, and I don’t want something worse than I have. I like what I have.”
He muses, his eyes linked with mine.
“He’ll be all yours one day. The way you want him,” he says, his eyes softening.
“How do you know?”
He weighs his answer.
“He knows what you’re going through. He knows you better than you think.”
I sag in my seat.
“But right now, he needs to do what he needs to do,” he adds.
“I understand.”
“I know you do, but that doesn’t make it any easier. In this respect, we–– men–– are different than you–– women.”
A smile makes his eyes sparkle in the dimness.
“I had my own moment of revelation a while back when I was in England. Dahlia was longing for a type of freedom I didn’t quite understand. At one point, she wanted to know what a man like me could possibly miss in his life. At the time, there was nothing I could point to. I had pretty much everything I wanted in a world that looked exactly how I wanted it. It was much later when I finally understood. She taught me that living a perfect life is not chasing something all the time but rather staying still and living that perfect moment that’s been given to you. Whatever that moment is...” he says. “For us, Dahlia and I, it was living under the Spanish sun for a while, watching the flamenco dancers in the streets, sharing silence sometimes, or staring at the sea. But it could be anything. Like this dinner, for instance. Talking and drinking some wine, eating good food. It doesn’t stop here, though. And usually, women want more of that in their lives than men. That is real life, and that’s what creates beautiful memories. Everything else is impermanent. It goes to the side in the end. The money, the glory...”
He stops and grins again.
“But that’s not how men are built. We are hunters. We may not roam inside caves, but that instinct is still in us. We see value in chasing things. Even if it doesn’t always register with us, it's what's driving us. It’s what makes us feel alive. What gives us purpose. If someone tries to take that away, they take away our power. But we know... Or we learn eventually. I know I’ve learned it from Dahlia. And James knows it somehow too. Women want to build a nest of love and create a world within the world. Bring more life into their life while men can’t easily fold their wings and live inside that nest.”
“What are you telling me, Lex?”
“What you feel is normal. It’s not wrong. It’s natural. And he will settle for that kind of life, but first, you have to let him fly as high as he can get.”