Harlowe #3
“Oh, yeah, sorry. I’ll grab my insurance card.” Javier turns back to the Land Rover, leaving me to face Zander alone.
I feel him staring at me and try hard to ignore him. This morning is feeling more and more like an episode of Black Mirror than my actual life.
“You look good, Lowe,” he says, voice quiet and familiar. Too familiar for not having seen each other in five years.
I don’t even spare him a look. “You look the same.”
“You’re a mom now.”
My spine stiffens as I fight the urge to freeze, but slowly rise back up from the crouch I had taken to get a close-up photo of the bumper damage.
I turn towards him in what feels like slow motion, my face set in steel, not giving away that my heart is hammering away in my chest, full of fear.
Thoughts race through my mind at what he could possibly know and why he is bringing this up now.
“I am. It’s nothing for you to worry about.”
Zander’s expression flickers, a bit of the casual openness shutters, replaced by a mask of indifference that slips forward in the blink of an eye. An eye that matches those of my beautiful son.
“Is he...” He blinks, pausing for a moment before a brief shake of his head and continuing with a wry smile. “You’re with a football player, I saw. Is he good to you?”
“You seem a little too knowledgeable of my personal life for someone who doesn’t do attachments.” My voice is calm, but tinged with vicious malice. I don’t confirm anything other than his awareness of me so long after I was told he would never care about me long-term.
“The Atlanta Haute List seems to like reporting on your life right now almost as much as they scrutinize mine. I can’t help but read the stories when I’m ensuring they aren’t spreading too many rumors about me.”
Ah. It always comes back to how things affect him. “Feel free to skip those stories. It's of no consequence to you what I happen to be doing or who I’m with. I know you don’t care about the people you’ve bulldozed in your quest for world dominance. No attachments and all that.”
I’m glib, but the words still taste of poisonous hurts and insecurities.
He can’t possibly begin to understand the pain he caused me, even though I knew his “rules”.
No attachments. No repeats. Short-term fun only.
I’d agreed to them, even. How was I supposed to know we would find something special in the middle of the ocean and it would change me forever?
I thought it had changed him, too, but I was wrong.
I can’t have been the only foolish girl to think maybe I was different. That maybe the extra time he spent with me meant something. Maybe I meant something. I quickly learned just how wrong I was to assume he would ever care about anything other than his work and his own pleasure.
Zander’s face gives nothing away, and I’m surprised to feel disappointment when he nods. “Take care of yourself, Lowe. Javi will get this straightened out. You won’t have to worry about a thing.”
Words freeze in my throat when he turns, dismissing me, and returning to the Land Rover as Javier hurries forward, wringing his hands.
“I reported this to my insurance, and they’ll cover everything. But,” he says, looking away from me in hesitation, “I don’t have my card on me. I can text you a photo when I get back to the office. I’m so sorry to take up so much of your morning and for causing this inconvenience.”
“That’s too fucking convenient,” I say, hand moving to my hip. “How do I know you won’t just disappear and leave me with a crazy insurance claim to take care of? Do you work with him?” I ask, nodding at Zander.
“Yes, so you know where to find me. If there is anything insurance doesn't cover, I will personally. I don't want you coming out of pocket for anything. This was my fault. Let’s exchange numbers in case there is anything that comes up?” His voice belies an almost endearing nervousness.
I sigh as I enter his number in my phone, and quickly text him my contact information, just so I can check he gave me a real number.
His phone vibrates, and he shows me, an apologetic half-smile softening the rugged planes of his face.
“If I have to drag you out of that tower downtown to get your damn insurance card, I'm going to be pissed,” I mutter.
“I promise you won’t have to. I’m so sorry about this. I’ll take care of everything. You won’t have to pay for a thing,” Javier repeats as we finish up.
I can feel Zander’s eyes on me throughout the exchange, and it makes me nervous. More so because he knows about Hendricks. I wanted to stay off his radar for my son’s sake, but fate has other plans, it seems.
When I finally flop back into my seat, I have three sets of eyes glued to me. “What do you nosy bitches want?” I ask, signaling to get back onto the highway in the still gridlocked morning traffic.
“Why didn’t I know you dated Zander Olsen?” Alicia asks immediately.
“He’s so hot. You two are like gorgeousness personified standing next to each other,” Callie gushes.
“I think I was just inspired for my spring/summer line from that one interaction alone! I can see it now, menswear-inspired pieces with florals and chiffon,” she muses, clapping her hands and speaking her thoughts out loud.
“Oh, please. Don't wax hoetic about that jackass,” Paloma says to Callie, before leaning forward and focusing on me.
“Are you okay, Lolo?” she asks, placing a cool hand on my shoulder.
I cover hers with my own for a moment and check the lanes next to me as traffic finally eases up, and the flow opens enough for me to merge
back onto the highway.
I feel more disrupted and unsure of my life than ever.
I started the morning on a high feeling like I had my shit together, promoting my new cookbook on a local news channel.
I began feeling like a failure for running late, ruining my son’s day, and possibly jeopardizing his spot at school.
It really went downhill with the weird flex of fate of being hit in traffic, both slowing down my already beleaguered schedule, then, the ultimate fuck your self-confidence, chucking Zander into the already chaotic mix.
If he only knew that I see his face every day when I look at my son, that I think of our short time together and my failure to create the sort of security for my son that a father would have provided, he may have been less casual, less unaffected.
But that’s not how Zander rolls, and I knew it when I agreed to a spontaneous trip with him.
Stupid, na?ve girl. There is so much I would change, so much I wish I had known then.
Even so, the best thing to ever happen to me came from it.
“I’m okay. For now,” I answer.