Chapter 14
O ver the next two weeks, I see Esther four times. I still have a long road ahead of me, and a lot more to work on with her (my self-esteem and career woes topping the list), but as far as my relationship with Hunter, for the first time in nearly a decade, I don’t feel wracked with guilt.
My perspective started to change when Esther asked me to imagine what would’ve happened if Hunter had lived.
He would’ve gone on to meet the mother of his children.
He would have become a dad. And I would have peace of mind, knowing that breaking up with him was the right decision.
His death robbed us both of seeing his life unfold the way it was meant to.
Rather than defining our relationship by Hunter’s death at the expense of everything else we shared, Esther encourages me to reframe our story: We were madly in love.
But ultimately, we weren’t right for each other, because we wanted different things.
So we let each other go. It’s still a sad ending, even if he’d lived.
But it’s also a beautiful tale of love and sacrifice .
Eventually, I start talking to Esther about Charlie. Even though I’m in a better place, emotionally, than I was two weeks ago, I know my trust issues with men aren’t going to disappear overnight. And I don’t want to bring that baggage into my new romance.
“Do you think I’m ready to be in a relationship?” I ask Esther, anxious to hear her opinion. “I know Charlie said he’d wait for me—and it’s only been two weeks—but I miss him like crazy, and I’m dying to see him.”
Esther tilts her head for a beat before she answers me.
“How about this: you spend the next month hanging out with Charlie, and getting to know each other as friends. Take sex out of the equation. You said you were grateful for that aspect of your relationship with Hunter, right? You didn’t have to worry about him wanting you for superficial reasons.
What if your relationship with Charlie began the same way? ”
I like the idea, and I’m smiling all the way home from Esther’s office, because I’m so excited to make plans with him.
I honestly don’t care what we do—or don’t do.
I just want to be near him. When the elevator doors open to the twentieth floor, I almost expect to see Charlie standing there, but there’s no one in sight.
As I pass his apartment, I consider knocking, but it’s nine on a Saturday morning, and he might still be sleeping, so I decide to wait another hour.
But right as I’m putting on my smock and getting ready to paint, I hear someone at my door. My heart skips a beat.
Charlie.
I can only imagine how silly I must look with my paint-splotched smock over my tank top and shorts, and my hair up in a messy bun, but I don’t care. And I know he won’t either.
I open the door with a huge smile on my face—that instantly falls flat. My mouth gapes. My stomach churns. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Grady Brooks has the audacity to smile at me. “I owe you an apology.”
I stand there in stunned silence.
He gestures toward the inside of my apartment. “May I come in?”
I fold my arms over my chest. “Absolutely not. And how did you even get up here, anyway? The doorman’s supposed to call me first.”
Grady grins. “I got lucky. The door man was a woman. I told her I was surprising you, let her take a selfie with me, and here I am. The perks of celebrity.”
“You’re the worst,” I tell him, wondering if there’s actual steam coming out of my ears, because it sure as hell feels that way.
If there is, though, Grady doesn’t notice. He’s too busy looking me up and down. “Are you wearing clothes under that thing?” he asks, referring to my smock.
“Please leave,” I say, beginning to close the door, but he braces his hand against it to stop me.
“Jenna, wait,” he says, taking a step back. “Look, I know you hate me. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
My hands are on my hips. “It’s worth nothing, Grady. Nothing at all.”
“I shouldn’t have involved you in my beef with Dex,” he continues. “And I definitely should have known that he would snitch,” he adds under his breath.
I shake my head. “Are you kidding me? That’s your apology? You betrayed my trust. You manipulated me. You got me drunk, and?—”
He raises a finger. “Technically speaking, you got yourself drunk.”
I stifle a scream. “Was any of it true? Did your neighbor really drop off that bottle of wine? Or did you buy it, hoping I’d get wasted, succumb to terrible decision-making, and have sex with you?”
The angrier I get, the more amused Grady seems to be. “If there’s one thing you can trust about me, Jenna, it’s that I want to sleep with you. I’ve been honest about that from the day we met. You’re the only woman I know who’s impervious to my charm, and it drives me insane.”
“You are such an entitled prick,” I say, my voice shaking. “You play women like pawns in this sick, misogynistic game of yours—get them in bed, then send pictures to Dex—and you think that’s charming ?”
He smirks. “Oh, please, let’s not be na?ve.
Most women would kill to spend the night with me.
Don’t you keep up with celebrity news? My exes love to talk about how I’m the best sex of their life—and needless to say, my reputation precedes me.
I’m as much of a conquest to the women I sleep with as they are to me.
More often than not, the selfies in bed are their idea—so they can brag about me to their friends the next day.
So, believe me, no one’s a victim here.”
My eyes tear up. “No one’s a victim, huh? Do you want to know how I reacted when Dex told me about the picture you sent? I fell apart! I didn’t get out of bed for four days. I didn’t leave my building for a week. I was so depressed, I started therapy.”
Grady’s eyes go wide.
“And if that twisted brain of yours thinks you’re special for having such a powerful effect on me, think again,” I continue.
“You’re only one in a very long line of men who’ve betrayed my trust. That’s why I was so triggered by what you did.
But don’t tell me your stupid games don’t have victims, because you’re wrong. ”
Grady sighs and runs a hand through his hair. When he looks at me again, I see something resembling remorse in his eyes. But I’d be willing to bet my life that he’s acting.
“Jenna, I’m really sorry.” He shakes his head. “That fucking sucks. If I had known this would upset you so much, I never would have done it. Everyone’s so jaded in Hollywood, I forget there are real people out there with real feelings.”
“That’s no excuse,” I say, rolling my eyes.
He scowls and looks down at his shoes. “Tell me what I can do to make it up to you, and I’ll do it. You already rejected my first apology gift?—”
“Apology gift? What apology gift?”
Grady raises an eyebrow at me. “Did you not get a call last week? From HGTV?”
I did. Someone left a message saying they’d seen Lola Piper’s tweet, and wanted to set up a meeting with me. I’d just come back from my third therapy session with Esther, and I was feeling happier than I had in years. But as soon as I heard the message, my heart sank .
I knew what I had to do. I called them back and thanked them profusely, but said I’d just committed to a long-term art project.
It’s not even a lie, really. I have six paintings in my makeshift studio so far.
At my last class with Tati Marie, I told her about my progress, and she said she’d be happy to connect me with a friend who owns an art gallery, when I’m ready to show my work.
My reaction was the polar opposite of when I listened to the voicemail from HGTV. I was giddy.
“The guy I spoke to at HGTV never mentioned you. I had no idea you set it up,” I tell Grady.
He shrugs. “Yeah, they’re supposed to use production companies for casting, but I had him bend a few rules. He’s an old buddy of mine, and owed me a favor. Anyway, I was shocked when he said you declined. So, tell me, Jenna…what will it take for you to forgive me?”
He looks at me with a smoldering gaze, thinking it will soften me, I bet—but I’m so enraged I start shaking. “Can’t you see that I want nothing to do with you?” I cry out. “Just leave, okay? All I want is for you to leave me alone.”
We both turn our heads when another door creaks open. My heart jumps for joy the moment Charlie steps into the hallway.
He looks from me to Grady and back again, assessing the situation. I hope he doesn’t get the wrong idea. I hope he can tell, from the expression on my face, that I really don’t want Grady anywhere near me.
He must know—because, within seconds, Charlie’s by my side.
“Hey, babe,” he says, kissing the top of my head and putting his arm around my shoulder. I watch as he eyes Grady, then holds out his hand. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Charlie Sutton. Jenna’s boyfriend.”
I do nothing to hide the giddy grin on my face. Charlie to the rescue again—but this time I don’t worry about him seeing me as a damsel in distress. He knows I’m more than that.
I lean into him, sighing with relief.
Grady shakes Charlie’s hand with a stern look on his face, and only says, “Hey.”
Charlie’s brows knit together. “And you are…”
Grady narrows his eyes. “You’re joking—right?”
He looks agitated, and I don’t want this turning into a fistfight. “Well, Charlie and I are running late for brunch,” I interject, “so we’d better?—”
“Yeah,” Grady says, abruptly. “I was just leaving, anyway.”
As he turns toward the elevator, I pull Charlie into my apartment and lock the door behind us. Then I hug him, my heart racing against his.
“Are you okay?” he says, his voice laced with concern.
I nod into his chest. “I’m fine—thanks to you.”
“I heard you yelling at him to leave.” Charlie steps back, so he can take a better look at me. “He didn’t…put his hands on you, did he?”
I shake my head, my heart swelling at the worry in his eyes. “No, it was nothing like that. He’s just a jerk I met years ago, and can’t seem to shake.”