Waive （v.） – Scarlett
WAIVE (V.):
TO VOLUNTARILY GIVE UP A LEGAL RIGHT, CLAIM, OR PRIVILEGE, OR CHOOSE NOT TO ENFORCE A CONTRACTUAL TERM.
SCARLETT
A few days later
New York welcomes me home with a cold slap of wind and a blanket of freezing rain. It’s as if it wants to mirror exactly how I’ve felt since I left, like it can’t help but make my heart hurt even worse.
Slipping inside an Uber, I hold back tears as the driver coasts onto the road.
Stop thinking about Jameson. Don’t you dare think about Jameson.
The warnings fail the moment we reach our first stoplight, when I remember the first night we met.
Suddenly, my mind is serving me memories of his lips on mine, his fingers threading through my hair, his whispers as I rode his cock.
Ugh. I shake them away and look outside the window.
Through the glass, Manhattan’s skyline twinkles brightly—every light a reminder of how my life used to be here—but I’ve promised my heart to Los Angeles.
At least, for now.
“You mind if I turn on some music?” The driver’s eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror. “Unless you want to discuss me taking you out to dinner tonight.”
“Music would be fine…”
He laughs and turns on some soft rock.
As he pulls closer to the city, I brace myself for being so close to Jameson’s world, so I make a mental note to shut my eyes whenever we pass his firm.
I pass the test with flying colors, but fail a pop quiz when we near Times Square.
Straight ahead, the words “Tate & Associates” blare on a jumbo screen in bright white, right under the words, “Guilty of Being the #1 Defense Firm in the State.”
So, now he’s advertising…
Groaning, I pull out my cell phone and see several unanswered messages.
Mom
Hey…I need to talk to you. Can you call me back?
Please, Scarlett.
Jeneva
I left your tickets at the will-call window. (Be honest with me after the show. I can take it, promise :-) )
555-9768
What’s your new boyfriend’s name?
Does he know he’s touching what’s mine?
I delete the last two messages and place my mother on mute—again. If I ever have to do a coin toss between dealing with her or Jameson, she would win. Unfortunately.
“I think this is as close as I can get, Miss.” The driver’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “They’ve got the street blocked off for the theater losers again.”
“The who?” I look up.
“The theater losers.” He smiles. “Can you believe there are people in this life who get paid to prance around and play make believe on a stage all day?”
I blink.
“I’m not sure what’s worse,” he says. “The people who are performing or the people who pay to watch them.”
“Well, if you knew anything about...” I bite my lip instead of finishing my sentence. Getting into it with him isn’t worth it. “Thank you for the ride, sir.”
“If you change your mind about hanging out, I sent you my number in the app.” He winks at me as I step out.
Shutting the door, I sling my bag over my shoulder and rush down the block.
When I make it to Gershwin Theatre, I push my way through the swarming crowd and hold up my VIP pass to the security guard.
“Come through here, Miss.” He waves me through, and I make a beeline for the will-call window.
“Name?” The attendant asks.
“Scarlett Winters,” I say, still getting used to dropping my father’s name from everything I do.
“Here you are, Miss Winters.” She smiles, handing me a ticket. “Front row, seat seven.”
“Thank you.” I rush into the auditorium and take my seat.
Thirty minutes later, the lights dim and the world of Oz comes to life onstage.
And for the next two hours, my problems melt away as I watch Jeneva perfectly slip into the role of Glinda the Good Witch.
Tears well in my eyes at the final curtain, and someone from behind hands me a Kleenex.
“Thank you,” I say.
“My pleasure.” Jameson’s voice makes me suck in a breath.
I slowly turn around, and his beautiful eyes instantly meet mine. His chiseled jawline dares me to touch it again, and his scent…
I hold my breath so I won’t be lured to lean in and let it intoxicate me like it used to.
My memories haven’t done him justice in the slightest, and as a small smile crosses his lips, I almost forget that I despise him.
Standing up from my seat, I move toward the aisle and try to slip as far away from him as I can.
His presence follows me all the way to the lobby.
I manage to make it to the concessions, but he gently grabs my arm and pulls me across the room and into a corner.
Then he spins me around to face him.
I start to walk away, but the look in his eyes holds me still.
“So, you were never planning to call me again?”
“Were you?” I ask.
“Eventually, yes.”
“Let me guess,” I say, “when you were finished handling my father’s case?”
“Sometime next week.”
“So, you’re done with him?” I arch a brow. “He’s dropped?”
“Why isn’t your boyfriend sitting next to you?” He changes the subject. “He should know better.”
“He’s back in California.” I shrug. “I’m staying at his place in Los Angeles.”
He clenches his jaw. “I see…So, you’re fine?”
No. “I need to go tell my friend how amazing she was tonight,” I say.
“I’ll be here when you get done with that.”
No, I’ll be escaping through the back…
I step away from him and push my way through the crowd until I reach the hallway that leads backstage.
The cast is posing for pictures and raising champagne glasses to their first show.
I linger through the autographs and flowers until I finally catch Jeneva breaking free from the group.
“Hey! Jeneva!” I call out.
“Oh my god, Scarlett!” She rushes toward me, pulling me into a hug. “I was about to come looking for you. How did I do tonight? Be honest.”
“You were amazing,” I say. “Every scene was perfect, and I mean it.”
“My wig started to slip through my first solo song.”
“I didn’t notice at all.”
“Swear?” She furrows a brow. “What about the slight crack in my voice in the finale?”
“What crack?”
“Okay, I believe you now.” She pulls me into her arms again, hugging me even tighter. “I wish you didn’t have to leave tonight. I’d want you to go out to dinner with all of us.”
“I’d be willing to change my flight, but…” I look over my shoulder and lower my voice. “Jameson is here, so…”
Her smile fades. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” I shrug. “I’ll be fine. It’s one step toward getting over him, and I can’t be afraid to ever see him in person, so—”
“Shit. I need to tell you something.” She cuts me off, pulling me off to the side.
She looks around and then pulls me away again into a small closet.
“What the hell is going on?” I ask.
“Your boyfriend—”
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
“Whatever.” She places her hands on my shoulders. “He’s been sending me stuff every week—flowers and gift cards with ‘Tell me where Scarlett is or else’ notes.”
“What does he mean by the ‘or else’ part?”
“I haven’t found out.”
“Why are you just now telling me this?”
“You said you never wanted to hear his name or discuss anything about him.”
True… “So, you didn’t tell him I was going to be here tonight, did you?”
“Hell no.” She scoffs. “I just want you to know that he’s been trying to reach you…And there’s this lady that’s been watching me here and there, too. I think she’s stalking me for him. Maybe?”
“Definitely,” I say, knowing that the woman is probably Rachel.
“I promise I haven’t said a word to him.” She looks genuine. “I don’t know how he knew you’d be here.”
“It’s my fault.” I shake my head, realizing he probably put two and two together when I texted him out of anger a few days ago.
“Nothing to worry about, though.” I force a smile and pull out a small red gift box from my purse. “Here’s your lucky Broadway debut gift. Open it when you’re by yourself.”
“Will do.” She hugs me again. “Would you like me to show you to the back alley?”
“Please.”
She smiles and opens the closet door, escorting me through the backstage area.
“Let me know when you’re back in L.A., okay?” She squeezes my hand. “And I’ll attend your first show whenever you land a major role, too.”
“I’ll let you know for sure.” I zip up my coat and slip into the cold, walking toward the street.
I take out my phone to order an Uber back to the airport, but as I’m setting my location, a text crosses my screen.
American Airlines
Flight Alert: 1716 with service to Los Angeles has been rescheduled for tomorrow afternoon at 3:07 p.m. due to a security issue.
Stay tuned for further updates.
What the…
I consider going to the airport anyway and spending the night there, but I know it’ll be miserable.
Jeneva’s place is an option, but I’m pretty sure her boyfriend has plans for whenever she returns.
As I’m scrolling through the classmates and former associates I’ve left behind, a familiar deep voice clears his throat.
“You were really going to leave this city without telling me goodbye?” Jameson asks.
“Yes.” I look at him and immediately regret it.
My skin heats at the sight of him, as if he’s somehow become more gorgeous between now and fifteen minutes ago.
“I have a flight to catch,” I say. “Maybe we can reconnect next time.”
“All flights are canceled until tomorrow.” A slow smirk crosses his lips. “That includes yours.”
“How do you know that?”
“I got an alert,” he says, stepping closer. “Apparently someone called in a bomb threat.”
“Someone or you?”
“Do I seem like I’m that desperate to talk to you?”
“Yes.” I narrow my eyes. “Was it you?”
“We should talk in my car,” he says. “You’re more than welcome to come to my place if you need a place to stay tonight.”
“I don’t. I just made a hotel reservation.”
“At which one?”
“I…” I hold back a sigh. I can’t afford to waste any of my money on a hotel for one night. “The Waldorf Astoria.”
“You have a reservation there already?”
“No,” I say, “but I’ll just mention my father’s name if they try to kick me off the lobby’s couch.”
He pulls out his phone and taps the screen. “I’ll get you a room at the Four Seasons.”
“No, that’s okay.” I shake my head. “I don’t want to owe you anything.”
“The only thing you owe me is a conversation.”
“Then I get to decide when I give it to you.”
“Fine.” He groans and puts his phone away. “My car is across the street. I’ll drive you.”
“I’d rather take an Uber.”
He gives me a blank stare.
“You can follow it, if you like, but—”
“We may not be together, Scarlett,” he interrupts me, “but you’re out of your mind if you think I’ll let you get into another man’s car tonight.”
“I’ll request a woman.”
“You’ll agree to come with me or I’ll pick you up and carry you.”
The look in his eyes lets me know he’s dead serious.
“Fine,” I say. “But I’m sitting in the backseat.”
“You’ll sit in the front seat, with me.” He gestures for me to follow him, and I allow myself to oblige.
It’s only a twenty-minute drive, Scarlett. Just twenty minutes.