In the Grasp, page 13
I hop in the car and start driving toward my favorite pizza joint. I stumbled upon it when I first moved here and became friends with the owner, Antonio. He always makes sure I have my privacy from snoopy paparazzi, and he makes the best damn pizza in all of Los Angeles.
I glance toward Paige, who’s staring out the passenger-side window looking lost in her own thoughts. I can just barely catch her reflection in the glass as we drive past streetlights, and the worried expression on her face immediately puts me on guard.
“You okay?”
She turns to me and smiles, although it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just kind of tired, and I think I might be coming down with something. Can we take a raincheck on dinner?”
I’m a little surprised by her request. “Uh, sure. Do you want to maybe come back to my place? We can just hang out together. I’d really like to spend some time with you before I head out of town again.”
She almost looks guilty when she replies, “I really think I should just go home. If I am coming down with something, I don’t want you to get it before you go on the road.”
Disappointment seeps through me, but I cover it quickly with a nod of my head. “Yeah, okay. I’ll take you home.”
“Thanks,” she mumbles, turning her head to look back out her window.
I navigate through downtown toward her apartment, worry gnawing at my gut. Paige is lying. She was never very good at it, and knowing her as well as I always have, I can see all the signs. The way she won’t make eye contact and nibbles on her lip while she restlessly messes with her hands. I can’t help but wonder if this has something to do with her job. My mind shifts back to our last dinner date when she hesitated. Is she still questioning where her loyalties lie?
“Can I ask you something?”
She turns toward me. “Sure.”
I hesitate, thinking about how I want to phrase this. “I know your job is really important to you.”
“It is,” she confirms.
“And you know that my privacy is really important to me.” I briefly glance over at her, but it’s long enough to see guilt shadow her face. My stomach clenches.
She finally responds, “I do.”
I decide just to spit it out. “My question is this—are we in agreement that we’ll keep our professional lives separate from our personal lives?”
I can feel her eyes on me, but it doesn’t soothe the fear that’s stirring in my belly at her lack of response.
“Can I ask a question of my own?”
“You still haven’t answered mine,” I point out.
“I will, I promise, but I would really like the answer to mine before I answer yours.”
“Okay, shoot.”
“Where do you see this going with us?”
Without hesitation, I respond, “I want us to be exclusive. I have no intention of dating anyone else, and I’d like the same assurances from you.”
“Okay. I can do that. Anything else?”
“I just want to be with you, Paige. Any way you’ll have me.” That’s a lie. I want to marry this woman, without a doubt in my mind. She’s it for me.
I glance at her in time to see her smile at my response. “I can think of lots of ways that I’d like to have you.”
Her smile turns saucy, and while I’d love nothing more than to play along, I need an answer.
“So, are you going to answer my question now?”
Her tone turns serious. “Jack, I will always look out for you. I agree that we should keep our work separate from our relationship.” She hesitated only a moment before she answered, but it was long enough that I don’t feel entirely comforted by her response.
Before I can push deeper into the conversation, I pull up at her apartment. I park the car, walk her to her door, and give her a brief kiss before heading back out into the warm LA night. It’s almost ten p.m., but it’s still pretty warm for October.
I look up toward the window of her apartment and see her lights on, but she’s not standing by the window like I wish she was. I also wish I knew what she was thinking and why she lied to me about not wanting to go out tonight. This is an aspect of our relationship that’s new to me, and I hate it. We never kept secrets before. Paige always confided in me about everything.
I get back in my car, processing the conversation we just had. I want to trust what she said, but there was something in her tone and expression that has my defenses rising. And I can’t help wondering—can I trust Paige?
Twenty-Seven
My back lands heavily on my bed, disturbing the clothes I flung haphazardly on the unmade sheets when I tried to find the perfect outfit for tonight. Hot tears of frustration slide down my cheeks because I have no idea how to navigate my way through this situation. His comment about not wanting the media to snap a picture of us when we were in the hall was like being doused with ice water. If only he knew the truth and that the journalist he should maybe be most concerned about is the one he was kissing.
Even though I’d love nothing more than to spend time with him tonight, my guilt is overwhelming me, and I’m worried that if I tell him about my assignment, he’ll back off. My poor heart can’t handle his rejection a second time. Hell, I wasn’t even sure it would survive the first time. I became a more reserved, distant version of the girl I was after Jack broke up with me all those years ago. But the past few weeks with him, I’ve felt lighter, carefree, like I was shedding the skin I’d been wearing for so long and embracing the woman I was always supposed to be. I’m not ready to lose that.
How the hell did I get myself into this impossible situation? Actually, the better question is how can I get out of it without losing the job I’ve worked so hard for, or the man who’s always had my heart?
Groaning, I roll over and grab my phone from my purse on the floor. I speed-dial the one person who will hopefully be able to offer me some clarity in this clusterfuck that I’m living.
Gina answers after the first ring. “Hey, what’s up?”
“I need your advice. I’m starting to go a little crazy here.”
“Advice about what?”
“Jack. And my boss. And how the hell I’m supposed to write this article while I’m falling in love with the subject. I’m terrified he’ll break things off as soon as he finds out, especially after the conversation we just had—”
“Girl, you need to slow way the hell down,” she cuts me off. First of all, let me correct you on one point. You are not falling in love with that man. You’ve been in love with him since you were sixteen, probably longer than that. Yes, he broke your heart, but you still loved him. That’s why no other guy has ever stuck for you.”
She can’t see me nod my head, but she’s right. “Okay, I’ll give you that. Go on.”
“Okay, now to the article thing. I think you should just tell him. Explain the situation to him. I’m sure he’ll understand the position you’re in. Who knows, maybe he’d even be down to do an interview with you.”
I roll my eyes and sigh heavily. “I think you’re wrong. You didn’t hear his voice tonight.”
“What are you talking about?”
“He asked me straight up if we were on the same page about keeping our personal lives and professional lives separate. That doesn’t sound like someone who would be willing to give me an exclusive.”
“Hmm.” She pauses before finally saying, “maybe he would if you told him about Vince.”
I roll my face into my pillow, letting out another groan. “Ugh, this situation feels impossible. If I don’t write the article, then Vince will make my life at the paper hell and probably get a story on Jack anyway. But if I tell Jack about the article, I feel like he’s going to completely shut down and pull away. You didn’t see his face, Gina. It’s clear he doesn’t want me to write about him, or us, not that I’d write about us anyway. I never put myself in my pieces; you know that.”
She hums an affirmative.
Thinking about his face during our conversation forces a horrible thought into my head. “What if I bring it up, and he thinks I only got back together with him for this stupid article? It might make him question my intentions, and the last thing I want is for him to doubt how sincere my feelings are for him.”
“You’re going to give yourself an ulcer stressing about it. Despite your fears, I still think your best bet is to talk to Jack and just get everything out there. If he thinks you got back together simply for that article, then he doesn’t know you at all. And if he lets you go over that, then he certainly doesn’t deserve you. Tell him you’re in love with him and want to have all his babies. That should thoroughly distract him from the whole article debacle.”
“Gina! If I actually said that to him, I’d probably see a Jack-shaped hole in my wall. It’s way too soon to even go there. We only just established that we are, in fact, a couple again.”
I can’t jeopardize my relationship with Jack. Yet, the only reason I even accepted this assignment was to protect him since Vince is dead set on getting an exposé on him. I chew my bottom lip, trying to solve this problem in my head.
“I can literally hear your brain overthinking and overanalyzing through the phone. Stop it right now.”
Gina knows me too well. It’s inconvenient at times like this, when I’m prepared to wallow in my misery.
“Listen, Gina, I gotta go. I need to think some things through.”
“Go soak in a bubble bath, think about that hot hunk of man you’re seeing, and call me tomorrow. Love you, girl! Everything will work out in the end. Keep your chin up.”
I hang up the phone, roll out of my bed, and walk to my window. I stare at the lights of downtown and the chaos on the roads that seems to mirror the chaos in my head. Turning on my heel, I quickly decide to take Gina’s advice and soak in a lavender bath until I settle down a little.
After a restless night’s sleep, I walk into work, coffee in hand, sunglasses still on, and my purse slung over my shoulder. I’m just about to reach my desk when my boss calls my name. I turn to Vince and see him motion for me to come into his office. He turns away before I can ask him to give me a second to put my stuff down.
Cocky, arrogant bastard.
I try to rein in my irritation. I do not function well on little sleep.
Alicia walks by my desk and offers a small sympathetic smile. “Looks like Vince is on a tear this morning. He’s already laid into three people, and the day has barely started.”
“Fantastic,” I mutter as I hastily set my stuff down on my desk before rushing into his office. “You wanted to see me?”
Without looking up from the papers scattered on his desk, he responds, “Yeah, how’s the story on Jack Fuller coming along?”
“It’s a work in progress.”
He glances up and eyes me carefully. “Do I need to reiterate how important this piece will be to the success of our paper?”
I look him boldly in the eye, determined not to show how weak I’m feeling when it comes to this story. “No, you do not.”
“I’d really hate to have to pass this off to someone else.” His words have the slightest hint of irritation.
I force down my own annoyance. “I already told you I’d write the article. There’s no need to put anyone else on it.”
He nods slowly, but his words are anything but reassuring. “Alright then. You keep working on that. I want to see some decent notes by the end of the week.”
I nod sharply, holding my tongue for fear that I’ll say something snarky.
“You can go now.” He looks back down at his papers, clearly dismissing me like the condescending ass that he is.
Frustrated, I retreat to my desk, hoping I can find some way to maneuver through this minefield I am currently standing in. If I give my boss exactly what he wants, I’m betraying Jack’s trust in me. But if I don’t give him anything, then I could possibly lose the career that I’ve worked my ass off for. I need to find a middle ground—fast—and solidify the focus of my article.
I decide to focus on the local high school football program that Jack helps out with. After several hours of writing down everything I can remember from my conversations with Jack and researching the school's history and their program, I decide I deserve a break.
I grab my purse and walk out of the building, deeply inhaling the warm fresh air and feeling the heat of the sun on my skin. Only twenty seconds outside and I already feel better. My head is clearer, and the weight of this article no longer seems like such a burden. I make my way slowly down the street toward the Starbucks on Maple. While I wait for my drink to be made, I hear my cell phone buzzing in my purse. I quickly answer the call as soon as I see my mom’s name on the caller ID.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Hi, sweetie. I was just calling to see how you’re doing. We haven’t had a chance to talk since you got all settled in your new apartment. How are you liking LA?”
My mom and I are close and normally talk a lot more frequently, but with everything that has happened at work and then with Jack, I haven’t quite caught her up on the happenings of my life.
“LA is good. Crowded and busy, but good.” I grab my drink that is now ready and head outside to sit. “Work has been stressful.”
I don’t know why I’m hesitating to tell my mom all that’s going on. She’d been supportive of Jack and me when we were teens and first started dating. Maybe I’m hesitant because she saw the aftermath of that love. She watched her only daughter emotionally fall apart, before I eventually toughened up and shut many of those emotions off altogether. She saw the way losing Jack changed me. I’m afraid she won’t be as supportive this time around.
“I, uh, saw Jack.” I wait with bated breath for a reaction, a noise, anything. Silence fills the line. “Mom, are you there?”
Calmly, and with what sounds oddly like mild amusement, she remarks, “Jack Fuller?”
“Yeah.”
“And how did that go? How’s he doing?”
“He’s great. He’s the quarterback for the Wolves now.”
“Oh, I know all that, honey. Your father filled me in on that when he first got drafted.”
Shocked, I reply, “Dad? He’s been following Jack’s career?” I always thought I was the only one in my family that still followed what Jack was doing.
“You know how your father loves football. So…” She hesitates, and my stomach clenches, waiting for her next question. “How was it seeing Jack again?”
I remember the way our eyes locked on each other when he was lying on the field and then that kiss in the hallway that turned positively indecent, and all the wonderful moments in between.
On a breath, I whisper, “It’s been…incredible.”
I take another deep breath and let it all out. I tell her all about the press conference, the hike, our date, and how we’ve talked every day since.
“I knew you two would find a way back to each other.”
“What?” I’m shocked. I thought she would question my judgment, but all I hear in her tone is the amusement I thought I heard earlier.
“You two always belonged together. It was hard when we moved, watching you two struggle, and then when you broke up, my heart hurt so much for you, Paige. But I always thought, if you two just got in the same room again, you would get back together. You were too young to make it work back then, but you’re both older and more mature now. And you’re back in the same city. It’s like it was meant to be.”
“I never pegged you as a hopeless romantic, Mom. I’m kind of surprised.”
“Well, I’m not usually, but in this case, it’s not hopeless romance, it’s hopeful. I always had hope that you two would find a way back to each other. People don’t take young love very seriously, but what you and Jack had wasn’t simply young love. It was real, and it was stronger than what most people find as adults.
“I’m glad you two are working through things. Jack was a good boy, and from what I’ve seen in the media, or maybe what I haven’t seen, if you know what I mean, he’s turned into a good man.”
“He is a good man, Mom.”
“I thought so. You sound happy, Paige.”
I smile, thinking of Jack’s arms wrapped around me. “I am happy, for the most part.”
“For the most part? Are there other things going on?” The motherly concern is evident in
her voice.
Despite my initial intention of leaving all the drama out of this conversation, I decide to spill the whole mess with my boss to my mom. Her advice is the same as Gina’s. She urges me to talk to Jack, the sooner, the better.
“Well, I need to get going. I have to run some errands before making dinner. Call us a little more frequently if you can. You know we worry about you.”
“I will, Mom. Love you.”
“Love you too.” With that, she hangs up.
I continue to sit on the cement bench under the tree right outside Starbucks. As I soak up
the fading sun, I realize that all my tension faded away as soon as I started talking about Jack. He’s what’s important, and I need to protect him in any way I can. I’ll make the philanthropy angle work and let Jack read it before it goes to print. That way he’ll know my intentions were good from the start, and I’ll save my job—hopefully.
With strengthened determination, I head back to the office.
Twenty-Eight
Three days shouldn’t feel like three months, but it sure as fuck does when it’s three days away from Paige. After our failed pizza date, I decided to give her a day before texting her to check in. Frankly, I needed the time to ease my growing concern about where her loyalties lie— with me or the paper. But then I got busy with football obligations, and my only form of communication was a text here and there.
Tonight’s the first night I’ve finally had a chance to call her, and I’m dying to talk to her. As soon as she answers the phone, her sweet voice soothes the insecurity that was stirring in my gut only a few days ago.
