Sharing Space (The Complete Series) (18 page)

“She’s also really pretty.”

“Who?” I asked, knowing damn good and well who she’d meant. 

“Chloe.”

“Yes, she is.”

“Are you two a thing?”

“No,” I answered a bit too quickly.

“Patrick, it’s okay if you are. We’re not dating anymore.”

Dating was probably too strong of a definition. After spending so much time together in class it just seemed like the natural progression for things to turn romantic. If you want to call random, middle of the night hook-ups romantic. It got old after a while and I called things off. I didn’t feel good about where things were going and I sensed that Kelly wasn’t happy either. She wanted more and I didn’t. When I put an end to our sexual relationship she assured me that our friendship would remain intact, but sometimes I had doubts. She got mean and jealous whenever I went out on even a casual date.  There was no way I was going to discuss Chloe with Kelly. I’m a lot of things, but stupid ain’t one of them.

“Chloe and I are just roommates.”

I turned to find Kelly watching me as she jogged. Her blonde ponytail bounced left and right. Her face told me she didn't believe a word coming out of my mouth.

“I’m going to shower,” Kelly said, turning off the treadmill. “I’ll meet you at the juice bar.”

Way to go, Patrick.

Taking her cue, I also went to shower. I hoped that by the time we were both done she’d be in a better mood or else it would be a long day. Kelly was coming over to help me rehearse lines for an audition I had in the next few days. Thanks to her contacts, I’d landed an audition for
Shining Moments
and was reading for the part of a good guy turned bad boy after a motorcycle accident leaves him brain damaged. It’s not like I had high hopes; after all, the part was being vacated by a fan favorite and the buzz was that the producers were looking to replace him with someone recognizable. They wanted to cast someone who’d done soaps before. I wasn’t going into the auditions expecting much, but I was looking forward to the opportunity to get my face and name out there. It was common knowledge that if the casting personnel of one soap really liked you, they’d keep you in mind for future roles. 

When we got to the apartment, Kelly wasted no time in getting to work. This was fine with me. I would rather she were already gone when Chloe got home.

“Which scene do you want to do first?” Kelly asked, kicking off her shoes and taking a seat on the sofa.

“Let’s go with the diagnosis. It’s the one I think I have the best handle on.”

We had two scenes to practice with. One involved the character, Drake Burton, being told that his condition was irreversible. The second was a scene between Drake and his longtime love, Carly. Drake is trying to gently let Carly down by explaining that, due to his brain injury, he no longer had feelings for her. The scene ends with Carly planting a passionate kiss on Drake and Drake remaining unresponsive.

Kelly and I went through the first scene a few times until I felt comfortable with it. After reading through the second scene nearly a dozen times I still felt as if I wasn’t getting it. I wasn’t sure of my chances of getting the gig, but I wanted to make sure they remembered me.

“Try to find something to draw from, Patrick. Although Drake no longer has romantic feelings for Carly, he still cares for her as a person. He’s trying to be both stern and unwavering as he lets her down, but he also wants to be compassionate without getting her hopes up. Haven’t you ever had to do something like that?”

I thought of my relationship with Kelly, but I couldn’t tell her that. I hoped my eyes didn’t betray me, but as I searched Kelly’s face I knew she was thinking the same thing. Her face turned a bright red and she cleared her throat.

“Well, good. This should be easy then.”

We read through the scene again and, although there was some improvement, I still wasn’t satisfied.

“Once more?”

“Sure.” Kelly shrugged.

We recited the lines again, complete with moving about the living room as if we were in Carly Buchanan’s small cottage. At the end of the scene Kelly did something she hadn’t done previously. She leaned in to plant the seductive, yet pleading, kiss on me that Carly hoped would sway Drake.

At that exact moment Chloe entered the apartment. And she wasn’t alone.

Chapter Two

A Tale of Two Men

Chloe

If I have one flaw—and yes, I am aware that I have more than one, but if I had to pick one that seemed to annoy people, and even myself sometimes—it would be my habit of writing letters to those I’d rather not have an uncomfortable conversation with.

When we were kids, Crystal had a birthday party at Uncle Troy’s restaurant. I felt that she was completely ignoring me to hang out with her friends from school. When she asked me what was up with my funky attitude, instead of being honest I waited until she wasn’t looking and slipped a note written on a napkin into her dress pocket.

She never found it, but that’s not the point. The point is that I’m fully aware that I have avoidance issues when it comes to confrontations, especially ones where I may come out looking the fool. Even now, years later, I found it easier to mail Crystal a card apologizing for our fight—even though I wasn’t backing down from my feelings on Jermaine—and letting her know that I still wanted to come over on Halloween and see Brianna in her costume.

My note to Patrick was definitely taking the coward’s way out. I just couldn’t face him after what happened in the kitchen. I couldn’t even bring myself to say what had happened out loud. We kissed. And kissed. And kissed some more. I had pressed my body against his so hard it was as if I was trying to get inside of him instead of the other way around. Patrick didn’t bring up the note or what happened between us, though it’s not like I gave him the opportunity. I began spending vast amounts of time at the office or in my room. The yoga class had become a lifeline and there was no way I was giving it up. I opted for attending ones given when Patrick wasn’t scheduled to work.

After a few days of avoiding him I became annoyed that Patrick hadn’t tried to talk to me about it. Silly, I know. I’d basically brushed him off and made it clear that I didn’t want to face him, but there was a part of me that wanted him to at least try. That was perhaps my biggest problem with what I now referred to as The Incident. What did it mean? How did he feel about it? Sure, I was upset over my fight with Crystal and it felt good to talk to someone who seemed to understand, but kissing Patrick had nothing to do with sympathy and wine. It had everything to do with the fact that I had wanted to. And I wanted him.

I’m not sure when it happened or how, but somewhere along the way I’d developed feelings for my roommate. I missed him when he wasn’t around and he was the first person I wanted to share good news with and the first person I wanted to talk to when I needed consoling. If I admitted this to him and he didn’t feel the same way, I’d feel like an idiot. I don’t know anyone who takes rejection well, especially from the opposite sex, and there’d been enough male rejection in my life recently.

Thoughts of Patrick even invaded my concentration at work. When Lila and I met with Kelly Kennedy and her manager, I couldn’t help but notice how striking she was in person, and I wondered if Patrick thought so too. How fifth grade was that? I couldn’t afford to be distracted, considering how well things were going. My idea to incorporate product placement into Kelly’s appearance on a popular television show was well received by both the producers of the show and the people at
Raven Cosmetics
.  Lila was so impressed she requested that she and I go out for lunch soon to discuss the possibility of me joining one of her creative teams. 

Even though I was hesitant to share my good news with Myra, considering her feelings towards the people at Braxton & Lloyd, I had to tell someone. Since Crystal and Patrick were out, I allowed Myra to buy me lunch to celebrate. We decided on a Spanish restaurant not far from the office, which we normally wrote off as too expensive, but this was a special occasion.

“I’m excited. Finally I’ll get to do more than schedule meetings and book flights for other people. No offense.”

“None taken,” Myra replied as she raised her margarita glass in a mock toast. “And you get a bigger office.”

“And I’ll be using my brain to come up with creative concepts and—”

“And more money.”

I tried to give Myra a dirty look, but it didn’t work. She was right, and we both knew it. This change in position would come with a considerable raise in salary, and I could use it. The dirty look gave way to a small smile.

“Fine. And more money.” We touched glasses in a toast to my bank account. 

“Now, just be careful…”

“Myra, don’t start.”

“What? I’m just saying. Watch your back, that’s all. You think they want to see a sistah moving up?” 

“If that were true, why would Lila even consider promoting me?”

“Because you’re smart, capable, and adding you to the creative team makes her look better.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“You know what I mean, but that doesn’t make you any less smart, creative, or capable, and I’m proud of you, girl.”

It was a nice, much-needed moment. We walked back to the office arm in arm, heads bent low against the biting wind and giggling like schoolgirls. As we approached the entrance to our office building, I saw a familiar frame standing in the doorway. There, in a long brown trench coat with the collar turned up, stood Lawrence. Before I could even form the words “What are you doing here?” Myra was excusing herself. She muttered something about getting back to work and then, behind Lawrence’s back, gave me an exaggerated eye roll before disappearing inside the building. The look clearly said,
whatever it is he’s selling, you can’t afford.

“It’s not what you think. I’m not here to beg or apologize. I just need to get some stuff I left at your place.”

“Uh huh.”

“I’m serious.”

I grabbed his arm and moved us both away from the busy entrance to the building. I didn’t want my co-workers dipping in my business.

“Why didn’t you just call?”

“I was already nearby. Besides, you don’t take my calls.”

“You could have left a message.”

“Oh, so you’re actually listening to my messages now?”

If looks could kill, New York City Sanitation would be mopping up a Lawrence-sized stain off the sidewalk.

“Can I stop by later to get my stuff?”

I knew exactly what stuff he was referring to: a few pictures, some clothes, a book, and a few CDs were all currently residing in a box in the back of my closet. I hadn’t decided what to do with it, and honestly hadn’t given it much thought.

“No. Let’s get it now.”

Lawrence looked surprised.

“I’m more than ready to have this thing between us over with once and for all.”

Immature as it was, I took pleasure in seeing the hurt on Lawrence’s face. “Let me just tell Lila I’m leaving for the day.” As Lawrence tried to follow me into the building I placed my hand on his chest. “No, wait here.”

I would have preferred a quiet train ride to my apartment but, once Lawrence realized that I was shooting down all of his attempts to talk about my life, he was content to talk about his own. A lot. As he went on and on, I wondered how I could have ever found him attractive. Well, physically it was obvious. He was a gorgeous man, but his personality was a turn off. How could I have not seen it before? What I used to consider confidence was now coming off as extreme arrogance. He’d already proven himself to be a liar and disloyal, and the more he tried to work me with his compliments—“Damn, girl. You’re looking good.”—the more I realized how manipulative he was. He no more wanted that crap in a box than I wanted to be on that train with him. He’d played me for the last time. I’d give him his junk, he’d go, and I’d finally be done with Lawrence for good.