Her eyes turn to me. She's studying me for a reaction, to make sure I can handle this. I nod. I can. I'm going to do anything I can to take this burden away from her.
"So I got the idea to try purging. I ate a few slices of cake. I felt sick, but I kept going. I knew I had to get it right, to really stuff myself. And then I locked myself in the bathroom and I tried. It must have taken half an hour before I coughed anything up. It was so awful, and I felt like hell the next day. I was out of it, my stomach was a war zone. My throat was aching. I swore I'd never do it again. I swore I'd avoid temptation so I never even thought about doing it again."
"What happened?"
She takes a slow breath. "It was when I was on
Together
. It was a lot of pressure, and the producers made it clear I needed to stay at exactly my size, so I looked something like a teenager. A buxom teenager, but still a teenager."
"If you tell me their names, I'll sue them."
She laughs. "That would do a lot for my reputation. The poor, pathetic actress who can't handle criticism."
"I bet Laurie knows someone who will take 'em out."
"Take them out?"
I nod. "I'll foot the bill too."
She smiles, and there's finally some life in her expression. Some bit of joy. "I'd rather stay a non-felon. But thanks for the offer." She draws another circle with her foot. "I had a lot of time to think about how badly I might fuck up. I had so much to prove. I had to show my mom, Ryan, the high school drama teacher who told me I was good, but not good enough to get my GED and move to L.A. I was terrified I would fail, and I didn't know how to deal with it. There was no one to talk to. Ryan was my friend, but he was against me acting. I wasn't going to drink myself stupid and turn into my mother. I couldn't just eat. The producers would have freaked out if I gained weight. But I remember that I'd tried and thought I could try again."
"And you did?"
"Yeah." She presses her fingertips into the concrete. "It was still hard, but it was easier. I swore I'd never do it, just stick to my 'healthy eating plan,' but I needed that release. I needed something." She brings her gaze back to mine. Her voice is low, barely a whisper. "You probably think it's pathetic."
I run my hand through her hair. She lets out a soft moan and presses her eyes closed. She wants more, a quick end to this conversation followed by a thorough distraction, but I can't give that to her.
I'm not going to help her run away from her feelings.
"You've been alone your whole life," I say. "You found a way to get through a hard time. There's nothing pathetic about it."
She nods like she almost sort of believes me.
We sit there until the sky is dark and the stars are bright.
Until I'm sure she believes me.
***
I make dinner. A bland dinner, at Alyssa's request. She's certain the meal will be awkward, that I'm going to stare at her like a guard watching a prisoner.
It's not entirely comfortable. I watch her more closely than I mean to, but she doesn't call me on it. Hell, maybe she appreciates the concern.
After dinner we watch a movie on the couch.
The Apartment,
one of her favorites, though she's partial to anything directed by Billy Wilder. Sometimes I wonder where she found the time to see so many movies and read so many books. Hell, she's almost as well versed in film as my mother was.
But then I remember that she spent so much of her life alone. Even when she thought she had someone, she was alone. That must be such a deep hurt.
Her mood lightens. She wraps her arms around me, laughing and gasping at all the appropriate parts of the movie.
And then my phone rings.
Alyssa brings her eyes to me. "At this time, it must be her."
"I'll turn it off."
She pushes herself up and moves to the opposite side of the couch. "What if she just attempted suicide again?"
"That's ridiculous."
She folds her arms. "Not that ridiculous."
"I'll text her that I'll call back later. I want to spend my night with you."
A little joy returns to her face, but she doesn't say anything. My phone is on the kitchen table. Missed call from Samantha Brooks. I send her a text.
I'm working late. I'll call you back tomorrow. Is everything okay?
She replies almost instantly.
I guess so, but I'd like to talk to you. It's important.
I look over to the couch. Alyssa has her hand pressed against her chin. She's trying to keep her attention on the TV, but she has one eye on me.
Whatever Samantha wants, it will have to wait. I set my phone on the table and move back to the couch.
Alyssa reaches for me. She presses her hand against mine. "I was snooping before you got here."
"Is that a habit?"
She nods. "You have so much of Samantha's stuff in that office." She turns to me, her eyes connecting with mine.
"Do you want the office?"
She swallows. "It seems like a waste of a room."
"What if it was your room?"
"My room for what?"
I take her hand. "Whatever you want. It could be your library or your rehearsal room or your masturbation room."
She laughs. "Just what I wanted."
I move closer to her. "I mean it. I want you to have your own space here."
She shifts back just a little bit. Her eyes turn to the floor. "You sure?"
"I'll clean it out this weekend."
She bites her lip, thinking it over. She looks over to the room then back to me. "I'll believe it when I see it."
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Ryan is sitting in my chair, his feet on my desk. He's wearing a smug grin. I motion for him to move but he stays put.
"I have work to do," I say.
His smug grin spreads to his ears. "Mrs. Pike's husband rejected your offer."
"Then we'll see her husband in court."
"You know as well as I do that she won't get full custody in court. Revise the offer and beg his lawyer to see you again."
My fingers curl into fists. "I appreciate your help during my absence, but I can manage my own clients."
He sighs, the same kind of sigh I get from Samantha. That you're-such-an-idiot sigh.
I unclench my fists. "I'd be happy to dissolve the firm. You can manage your clients and I'll manage mine."
Ryan's eyes narrow. His brow furrows. "It's my firm. You're not taking it away from me."
There's a tiny hint of something in his eyes. A weakness. This isn't about the firm. It's about Alyssa.
"You can keep the name. I only want my clients," I say.
He slides his feet off the desk. "No."
I take a step towards the desk. "I understand you'd rather not work with me after what happened with Alyssa."
"This isn't personal. It's a business decision."
I take a deep breath. This will be some shameless ass-kissing, but it will be worth it if it works. "And I respect that you can stay so professional during a time like this. I know I couldn't do it."
"Yes, you've made it abundantly clear that you allow your feelings to run your life."
"I'm serious about Alyssa. I'd rather not rub it in your face, but I don't think it's appropriate for us to continue to work together."
Ryan grits his teeth. "Is that right?"
"It must upset you working with the guy who stole your fiancée."
His voice is even and cool. "It doesn't bother me." He presses his eyes closed like he's willing any personal feelings away. "But if you're upset, I'll stand by my offer to buy you out."
"There's nothing in this for you."
He shakes his head. "I have my reasons."
"And they're professional?"
He clears his throat and moves away from the desk. "We're going to change our fee structure. Flat rates instead of billable hours."
"No."
"Janine is already reworking all the necessary paperwork."
"You can't make business decisions without my approval. We're partners."
Ryan shrugs like this means nothing to him. He steps past me and opens the office door. "It would be foolish of you to make a decision based on your 'commitment' to Alyssa."
I clench my fists.
"It's not like she's going to stick around."
"That's none of your business."
He looks at me with pity. "It's sweet that you believe she'd ever want something real from you."
"What can I say? I'm a romantic."
He shakes his head. "But Alyssa isn't like that. She's going to run as soon as she gets bored of fucking you."
He steps into the hallway like he's won.
"Then I'll have to keep things interesting for her."
That wipes the grin off his face.
He shakes his head. "I appreciate your Prince Charming thing. You have a nice face and you look good in a suit, and women eat it up. But you're going to have to step out of fantasy land. You're not taking any clients away from this firm, and you're not getting anyone to agree to your ludicrous offers."
"Thanks for the concern."
"You don't know her as well as you think you do."
I take a deep breath. "Well, that makes two of us, doesn't it?" I shut the door in his face.
He thinks he's won, but he hasn't. He's never going to win.
***
By lunch I am calm. Ryan is only trying to fuck with me. But I'm not going to allow him to rattle me. I'll find a way to leave this firm without abandoning my clients to Ryan and his obsession with the bottom line.
There's a text message from Samantha on my phone.
Can we talk soon?
There's no urgency to it, but she's not in the best place mentally. I take a deep breath and call her. Whatever it is she wants, it can't be any worse than Ryan's attitude.
The phone rings to voice mail. I hate to admit it, but I'm relieved. There's so much of her in my life already. Alyssa was right. Samantha's stuff is all over the house. She's taking up the entire spare room.
It could be Alyssa's. I can see her in that room, making it her own, decorating it with those silly wall decals in the shape of birds, hanging old movie posters. She could paint it hot pink. She could do whatever she wants with it.
It would be perfect.
***
I leave work early, and spend nearly two hours packing Samantha's things into boxes. There's still so much of her here. I need to get rid of it or this place will never be mine. It will never be mine and Alyssa's.
I shake my head. I can't get ahead of myself. I'm only offering her space. She isn't moving in. She was very clear about that. I want her around constantly, but I have to respect her wishes.
Most of this stuff is crap--tacky silk flowers, uncomfortable office chairs, matching desks from some furniture chain. There's a picture on Samantha's old desk, a photo of the two of us at the beach. It was a week after we got engaged. We don't look happy, not really. I still remember the day we took this. She went out for "drinks with the girls" that night.
That was her code for going to fuck my father.
I want to tear the photo in half, but I can't bring myself to throw it away. It should be for Samantha. Even if it will overwhelm her with guilt.
It takes a few hours, but I strip the room down to its bare essentials. There's a desk and a task chair, a couch, a bookshelf that will soon be teeming with Alyssa's messy stacks of plays.
The orange light of sunset streams through the windows, painting the walls in a soft glow. There's something so perfect about the room like this. It's light. Hell, I feel light. The memories that were dragging me down are gone.
The ghost of Samantha is out of this room. This is only the first step. I can tear down everything in this house that she ever touched.
This can be my home, mine and Alyssa's. The only memories that will matter will be the ones we make.
The front door opens. Alyssa. I hear her heels clicking on the hardwood floor.
"Lucy, I'm home," Alyssa squeals in her best Desi Arnaz voice.
I step out. She's in a gorgeous dress, made up like she's coming from an important meeting. She slides out of her heels. "God, these things are so uncomfortable. Why don't I wear Keds all the time?"
"Because they're a very important part of your seduction outfit."
She smiles. "You look like you're up to something."
"I have a surprise."
"A sexy surprise?"
I shake my head.
She fakes a pout. "Such a tease." She shakes her head, a wide smile on her lips. "Is it a startling surprise? Because I think I'll need a cup of coffee first. I'm exhausted."
"Did you stay up late watching movies with some asshole who refused to turn off the TV?"
"Yes," she says. "But I only did it because I wanted to get in his pants."
"How did that work out?"
She moves towards me, wrapping her arms around me. Her eyes are on mine. Her hands are on my back. "I'll get him today."
I bring my lips to hers. It's so soft and sweet, and I can feel the need pouring between us.
I pull my eyelids open and stare at her. I love her so much. I have to get this right.
"Are you ready to see and believe?"
She laughs. "See and believe what?"
I take her hand and lead her to the former office. "I want you to feel like this place is home, even if you technically live someplace else. I want you to feel like you can take up as much space as you want."
"Luke, what are you--"
I push the door open. It isn't much right now, but it is hers for the taking. "It's yours now."
Her eyes go wide. "But yesterday... how the hell did you clean it out so fast?"
"Magic."
She turns to me. "I can't take a room in your house."
"It's going to stay empty if you don't."
"But we're not... I'm not ready to move in yet."
"That's okay." I squeeze her hand. "This is your space, just for you. And you can do whatever you want with it. You can make it a library or you can fill it with makeup or you can store your extra coffee here. I don't care. But it's yours."