My Once and Future Love (36 page)

“That a dig at Simone, mate?”

“I didn’t mention a name, sir.”

Pissed off Reggie wouldn’t give him the fight
he wanted, he stomped into the bedroom portion of his suite and
slammed the door, then punched the wall.

Unfortunately, he hit the stud.

****

While Jacob was having his hand x-rayed, I
told the doctor not to give him pain meds stronger than ibuprofen
and why. My boss was sulking when he walked back in.

“Is it broken?”

He handed the film to the doctor. “Tech said
he doesn’t think so but there’s a lot of swelling. Well, Doc?”

“There’s a hairline on the second knuckle.
You got very lucky, son. I want you to keep the hand wrapped for a
couple weeks. Do you do any manual labor?”

A snort escaped me. Couldn’t help it.
“Hardly.”

Jacob glared at me. “Can I still play
guitar?”

“I wouldn’t,” the doctor said, working with a
roll of gauze. “Give this time to heal and you shouldn’t have any
future problems. I’ll send you home with extra wrap.”

Jacob ranted during the drive back to the
hotel.

“This is your fault, you know. You’re like a
pox. Every time I’ve felt on top of the world, you have to knock me
down.”

“Stop it. No one made you hit the wall.”

“I wouldn’t have been
mad
enough to
hit the wall if not for your big mouth.”

“It was Bob’s idea! Bob. Not me. Yell at him
for a change.”

“I had everything under control!”

“Oh,
please
. Wake up and take
responsibility, Jacob. You
are under a microscope
! It’s the
nature of the career you’ve chosen and you can’t get drunk or high
without someone knowing. We saved you from a scandal. End of
discussion.”

“I could fire you for this,” he seethed.

“Then do it.” I stared at him, daring him to
do it. He didn’t scare me anymore.

He glanced away, the muscles in his jaw
working with his agitation. He knew we were right.

The tour continued without further incident,
but also without the joy of the beginning. Jacob wasn’t talking to
anyone except on stage. Bob just shook his head. The rest were
hurt. We bonded over being outcasts while Jacob blasted old punk in
his suite.

When we got back to Los Angeles, Jacob spent
a couple months passing messages to me through Maria.

He didn’t hold out as long with the band.

I spent my twenty-fifth birthday in front of
the TV with a quart of ice cream and a big spoon. It was the
loneliest I’d ever been.

****

June

Jacob’s twenty-seventh birthday was spent in
a film studio making a video. Work was back in full swing. They did
give him a cake at lunch, though. Summer would consist of recording
time working on the next album and mini tours. They had a few dates
in South America, a couple in Australia, and one each in Seoul and
Hawaii. Weekend excursions, basically. They were under pressure to
get a second album out soon.

Award season was bloody good this year and
platinum record plaques hung on the wall of his studio. Their
singles were staying high on the charts, and a movie soundtrack
they were part of debuted at number one as well. They were at the
top of their game, untouchable.

So why wasn’t he content? Satisfied.

Jacob glanced down from his bedroom windows
to the brunette reading on one of his deck chairs. The afternoon
was hot and Beth wore a swimsuit, but she’d yet to touch the pool.
She only came out like this when no one was around, but he’d
watched from between the vertical blinds. He was sick of the
distance, of her looking at him like a disappointing child—when she
showed any emotion at all. She’d shut down while he sulked.

With distance, he saw they were right to
intervene with him before his behavior leaked to the public. Felt
like a right idiot for jeopardizing his career and health in such a
way…and for what? A hot piece of ass and a few nights he could
barely remember?

Thank God Mum didn’t know.

Beth moved below and brought his attention
back to her. He did remember kissing her in Amsterdam and bein’ a
right ponce, begging her for attention. Answers. Love. She had good
reason to keep her distance now. Why she stayed he couldn’t say…he
knew she had enough savings to move on if she wanted. After
everything he’d done, why didn’t she want to?

He missed her in so many ways, but he’d give
anything to be back to the easy friends they were in high
school.

While he was musing, she’d jumped in the
pool. She was doing laps, her long limbs quickly powering her to
the other end. Only woman under forty he knew who wore a one-piece,
but the sleek lines and clingy fabric were still attractive.
Reaching the end, she flipped on her back to backstroke across.
Looked like fun, but she’d probably scamper off if he joined her in
the water.

Jacob sighed and turned away from the
window.

Taking a drive seemed like a good idea,
except the paparazzi would follow him soon as he left the gate.
They were the biggest drawback to this whole fame thing and never
left him alone if he stepped out of the house. Couldn’t do a
bleedin’ thing without a flashbulb in his face. Wasn’t safe to
drive himself anymore. Beth had to smuggle him out in her trunk
just so he could get a soddin’ hamburger. Thank God they thought
her too boring to watch.

He created all this tension with everyone and
it was screwing with his muse. The lyrics he’d come up with the
past six months were shit, and with the label breathing down his
neck, either he had to come up with twelve new songs fast or fess
up to needing more time. He wanted to prove he wasn’t a flake, a
lay-about, a one-hit wonder, but the words wouldn’t come…not with
everyone watching for his next fuck-up.

His phone rang.

“Are you feeling alright? You didn’t come
down to breakfast.”

“Beth, why are you calling me from
downstairs?”

“I’m outside. The intercom isn’t. Are you
sick? You always eat.”

He sighed. “I’m fine. Can’t I do what I want
on a Saturday?”

“Of course, Mr. Lindsey. I was just concerned
when you broke routine.”
Mr. Lindsey
. He hated when she
called him that in private.

“Relax, pet, okay? I did manage to feed
myself all through uni. Stay in the pool all day if you want.”

“How did you--? Never mind. Let me know if
you need anything.” The line went quiet and she hung up.

Another sigh escaped his lips and he tossed
the phone on the bed. Try to mope in peace for one day and she
couldn’t let him be. He already
had
a mother.

That wasn’t fair, though…he trained her to
anticipate his every need or whim, to handle anything he didn’t
find fun. Letting her off for a day probably made her wonder if
she’d find him dead—a silly notion, but her overactive imagination
was capable of it.

****

After a week of cursing flowing out of
Jacob’s studio, I hazarded a knock on the door.

“What?” he barked. The pen in his hand was
poised like he’d been about to throw it at the wall.

“You okay?”

He sighed. “It’s all rubbish.” He set the pen
on the desk and ran a hand through his hair.

“Can’t force inspiration, right? Maybe you’re
trying too hard. Take a break.”

“Already two years since the last release.
Can’t.”

“Think you have to. Or, get the guys to chip
in. Every word doesn’t need to be written by you, does it?”

He rubbed his eyes and stood. “I guess. I
just want--”

“What?”

“Never mind. Wanna catch a flick or
somethin’?”

“Go to a movie? You’ll be seen.”

“I’ll wear a disguise.” He touched my
shoulder. “Please?”

“Okay. Let me grab my purse.”

Smiling, he nodded, and we walked out, him
heading upstairs. I grabbed my keys and bag from my cottage and
locked the door. He came out the front in a ball cap and sunglasses
and headed for my car. Dressed in a plain white tee and blue jeans,
he was just another handsome guy in L.A. I hoped.

“Sure about this?”

“Just one normal afternoon, Bethie. All I ask
for.” He sounded tired, and when the classical music CD turned on,
he closed his eyes.

Could I finally be getting the old Jacob
back? All month he’d been quieter, less demanding, respectful…I
hardly saw him unless he was required to leave the house. No, not
the old Jacob—he wasn’t cheery enough for that—but maybe a more
mature one. A boss I could be happy with.

I drove to the theater closest to our old
houses, figuring the ‘burbs were safer. Choosing a spot closest to
the doors in case we had to escape, I parked the car and cut the
engine. Jacob opened his eyes and a smile teased his lips. He
recognized the theater.

“Any idea what’s playing?” I asked.

“Nope.”

“Let me speak to the personnel. Your voice is
too recognizable.”

“Yes, dear.”

I froze and a second later, so did he.
Shaking my head, I continued on. He stayed a step behind my left
shoulder.
Just innocent teasing, a slip of the tongue…ignore it
and so will he.

Scanning the front of the building, I was
thankful for Mondays. No one was here in the middle of the day but
a couple of senior citizens and moms with toddlers. Jacob stopped
in front of the movie list display.

“See anything you like?” I asked.

“There’s
Transformers
.”

“With bad reviews.”

“But stuff blows up.”

“How about
The Proposal
? Ryan Reynolds
is always funny.”

“Chick flick? Nah.”

“
Star Trek
, then. Something for both
of us.”

“You’ve seen it already.”

“On your schedule? I wish.”

“Fair enough. But I still say
Star
Wars
is cooler.”

I moved up to the ticket line. “Don’t start
that again.”

“What?”

“
Shhh
.” It was our turn at the booth.
I told the kid our selection, hoping Jacob was being inconspicuous
behind me. Tickets in hand, I went for the door, but he grabbed the
handle first. “Since when do you open doors?”

“Since I’m an Average Joe playing hooky from
work.”

“Do you want popcorn?”

“Please.”

I handed him his ticket. “Find a seat. I’ll
get it. Soda, too?”

“Water.”

“Okay.” As long as I paid for everything, it
didn’t look like a date. ‘Cause it so wasn’t.

Two friends seeing a film.

With two bags of popcorn and two bottles of
water, I found our theater and was surprised he picked a middle
seat, my preference. The theater had upgraded to the lift-able
armrest seats since I was last here. I lowered the arm between us,
then set his bottle in the cup. He took a bag from the cardboard
box before I sat down.

“You remembered butter?” he asked.

“What they call butter, yes. Thought you’d be
closer to the front.”

“You don’t like that.” He popped a kernel in
his mouth.

“Well, thanks.”

“Thank you.”

Wow, how civilized we were. Maybe he was
making up for the first half of this year. It had been awkward even
since he started talking to me again, and I hoped this was the
start of going back to normal. I complained a lot, but the past
year and a half hadn’t been
all
bad.

Theater seats made you sit close and I could
smell his cologne. Despite the samples and free bottles sent to him
all the time, he’d never changed his scent and I wondered why.
Plenty of others smelled good, too, and his body chemistry accepted
fragrance very well, but still…
Obsession
. Remembering the
last movie we went to, December of 2002, I wished I could lean my
head on his shoulder and breathe in the skin of his neck like I
used to. Everything was perfect then, simple, happy, and hopeful. I
missed my confidant. The best friend I ever had.

“Great music in this,” he whispered.

Nodding, I wiped some wetness from my left
eye. He probably thought I was reacting to Kirk’s father’s death,
and patted my knee. Thank goodness there was a lot to laugh at in
the rest of the movie. Getting sentimental wouldn’t do me any
good.

Leaving the theater, my phone rang.

“Are you ready to come work for me?”

“Nathan! How are you?”

Jacob arched a brow.

“Tell me you’re free for lunch this week. I
have business in L.A.”

“I’d love to. Can I call you back? I’m away
from my calendar.”

“Talk to you then. Bye, Lizzie.”

“Bye.” I ended the call and dug my keys out
of my purse to open the car.

“What was that about?” Jacob asked.

“Lunch with a friend. I do have them.”
Pressing a button on the fob, the doors unlocked.

“Male friends?”

“Don’t start.”

“I didn’t say anything. Just curious.”

“No possessive ex-boyfriend crap, I mean it.
I don’t have time to date, anyway.”

“You’re gettin’ awfully defensive over a
phone call.”

“Am not.”

“Are, too. Do you like this guy?” he asked,
his tone teasing.

“Of course not. He’s a college friend who
lives on the other side of the country and we have lunch like twice
a year.”

He snapped his fingers. “The bloke from the
Super Bowl. Short guy in the Brooks Brothers suit.”

“Still taller than me.”

“By a hair if that. But I guess it doesn’t
surprise you like hangin’ out with corporate types. Peas in a pod
and such.”

“Calling me a pod person?”

He laughed. “I missed the banter, Bethie.
Let’s not be mad at each other again. It sucks.”

“Usually not me that needs to behave.” Since
we were in the old neighborhood, I drove to Tommy’s.

“Fair enough. I deserve that. Friends?”

I stopped at a red light. His right hand was
extended and I shook it. “Friends.”

****