Forever Blue (32 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Edlund

BOOK: Forever Blue
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“Wait—what awards dinner?”

    
“You forgot already?”

    
“It’s been a long day. Refresh my memory.”

    
“You know, the
company’s annual awards dinner—the one you promised to get off work early for so you could go with me, remember?”

    
The walls were closing in on me.
I didn’t know how I would be able to see Carter if I had to be
at that dinner
with my husband.
I needed to find a
way to get out of that dinner—fast.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 16: Together at Last

 

 

 

 

    
The first order of business the next afternoon was working up enough courage to tell Isabella that I was ready to move on to bigger and better things.
A
deep ache of sadness engulfed me
as I passed through those reminiscent school doors.
I gazed down the desolate hallway
to
where the ghosts of my former life rushed back at me. It only reminded me of how years ago everything in my life
had crumbled with no warning.

    
I stood at the classroom door and glared through a small glass window. Isabella was in the middle of teaching new hopefuls.
The skeptical arch of Isabella’s perfectly trimmed eyebrow lifted up and down
as she spoke to the students.
This made it difficult for me to interrupt her. Isabella mouthed something to the class and made her way to the door.

    
“Well, hello, Alexa. This is certainly a surprise.”

    
“I really need to talk to you when you get a free moment.”

    
“As you can see, I'm in the middle of a lesson.”

    
“I know. I can wait.”

    
She shot me a dubious look and gestured me inside the classroom. “Come on in.”

    
Twenty pairs of eyes darted in my direction

    
“Class, I'd like to introduce you to my intern of three years, Mrs. Alexa Logan.”

    
“Hello,” I said shyly.

    
“If you would open your textbooks to chapter eight and begin reading. I have to go into my office for a quick meeting. I’ll be back rather shortly.”

    
After a brooding silence, we finally reached her office.

    
“What is so important that you feel the need to interrupt me in the middle of class, Alexa?”

    
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.”
My chest suddenly tightened.
“About my future.”

    
“And?” she asked.

    
“I can’t deal with these odd jobs anymore.”

    
Isabella crossed her arms. “Well, whose fault is that, Alexa?”

    
“Mine and I don’t know how many times I have to apologize for one mistake.”

    
“It was more than a mistake.”

    
“But it’s been long enough for you to forgive and forget. If you don’t trust me anymore, fine. Just don’t make me suffer the rest of my career because of it.”

    
“It’s not that I don’t trust you, Alexa. I just really don’t have anything substantial right now. Projects on movie sets only come along once in a great while.”

    
“It doesn’t matter. I want out. I feel comfortable enough to represent myself.”

    
Isabella broke eye contact
with me
and looked down at the piles of paperwork on her desk. “I knew this day was eventually going to come.”

    
“Well, I’m sorry. The jobs you’re sending me on aren’t exciting anymore. I’ve lost my enthusiasm for this industry, especially after I was pulled off the movie set.”

    
She opened a desk drawer, extracted a small piece of paper and handed it to me. The name
Gian McDonald
was scribbled on it, along with a phone number.

    
“What's this?” I asked.

    
“I registered you with the Television and Film Bureau several months ago,” she explained. “Earlier today, this gentleman called and said he was familiar with your work.”

    
“And?”

    
“He's the executive producer for a new television show that's going into production this fall. He's interested in speaking to you about a permanent position as makeup artist for one of the actors.”

    
“A television show?”

    
“Yes, I believe that’s what I just said.”

    
“Wow. I...I don’t know what to say. You didn't have to do this,” I said, feeling a lump of enormous guilt form in my throat.

     
“I know. Though I would like to, I can't keep you forever.” I detected a trace of sorrow in her voice. “I think you’re ready to move on.”

    
“Thank you. You don’t know how much this means to me.”

    
“If Gian hires you, promise me you’ll keep in touch. I can’t bear losing contact with one of my best.”

    
I smiled warmly and said, “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that.”

    
Isabella
had just
performed yet another one of her miracles. Thank God
for her
never
ceasing
to lose her faith in me. For three years, Isabella
had
held my hand throughout each step of my career and I’d never forget all she had done
for me. As grateful as I was for her help, I couldn’t wait for the new chapter in my life to begin.

 

 

***

 

 

    
“You look incredible,” Scotty said on the morning of his awards dinner.

    
“Thanks. So I'll meet you at the hotel tonight?” I asked as checked myself out in my new black, skintight cocktail dress

    
“I thought we were going together.”

    
“You know my schedule, Scotty.”

    
“Yes, and we agreed on going together.”

    
“I can’t promise I’ll be off work early enough.”

     
I learned in the beginning of our relationship that Scotty was always the first to relinquish in an argument, and I knew I had won when he stared at me in silence.

    
I
had
cooked up a way to get out of Scott’s
awards dinner
by the time he left for work. My behavior would be
shifty and dishonest, but it would work. The dinner wasn’t supposed to start until seven thirty, but I
had
planned ahead. When I could no longer avoid doing so, I phoned Scotty. 

    
“I have bad news. Don’t get mad okay? Someone got sick on the set, so it looks like I’ll have to be here all night to cover.”

    
“No, Alexa. Tonight is important to me. You promised you’d be here.”

    
“We’re in the middle of filming a huge scene. I'm sorry, but I just can’t leave.”

    
“I need you here. Don’t you get that?”

    
“Scotty—there’s nothing I can do!”

    
“You gave me your word.”

    
“They’re about to start filming again. I'll call you later.” I hung up before he had the chance to say another frustrated word.

    
It didn’t take long for the guilt to settle in, and
I was under an enormous weight of weariness
by the time I pulled up to Carter's driveway.
I sat in my car, pondering my behavior. I was
tragically
in love with both of them,
but my heart belonged to Carter—it always had, it and it always would.

    
The guilt over my deception quickly dissipated
when Carter opened the front door.
He wore a black cashmere sweater and dark denim blue jeans, and
I nearly melted at the sight of him.

    
“Wow—you look amazing,” he said, looking me up and down.

    
“Thank you,” I replied meekly. “So do you.”

    
Knowing how comfortable I was around him was part blessing and part curse. The way we nonchalantly walked straight to the living room and discussed the highlights of our day felt as natural as my own thoughts.

    
“I think we need to talk about something,” I said.

    
“Sure. What’s up?” Carter asked as he poured me a drink.

    
“We need to be discrete.”

    
“I know.”

   
“I’m actually afraid to leave your house. The paparazzi will be swarming you tonight.”

    
“I’ll be honest—
there’s really no place in southern California I can go without them hunting me down.”  He chugged
back
a shot of tequila. “But at least we have my bodyguard on duty.”

    
“Yeah, but that won’t stop those animals from taking pictures of us.”

    
“Hey, it’s the price I have to pay. Take it or leave it.”

    
“Well, I can’t run the risk of my husband standing in line at a grocery store somewhere and seeing our faces slathered all over one of those gossip rags.”

    
“Don’t worry, we’ll figure something out,” he said. “Oh, by the way, I have something for you.” Carter scurried out of the room and came back with a rather large box wrapped in polka dot gift wrap.

    
“For me? What is it?” I asked, taking the box from him.

    
“Well, silly, you have to open it to find out. That’s the point of a surprise,” he said, rolling his eyes in amusement.

    
I carefully unwrapped the gift and lifted the cardboard lid just enough to peek inside. I caught a glimpse of something black and furry. The further I inspected the gift, the more I came to realize
that
it was way beyond some ordinary trinket. I was left almost breathless at the vision of a black fur coat.

    
“Oh my goodness,” I said as I ran
my hands over the silky material. It was so soft and so plush
that my hands nearly disappeared in it.

    
Carter took the coat out of the box and helped me slip into it. “Do you remember?”

    
“Remember?”

    
“When we were kids—” He stood back and admired
me in the coat. “I told you that if I ever made it big—”

       “You would buy me a fur
coat and take me to all the premiers. Yes, I remember,” I said, cutting him off.  It all came rushing back to me like a tidal wave of memories.

    
  
“I never forgot that promise.”

    
I
crushed my body against
him and pressed my dry, achy mouth to
his. I kissed him a little too eagerly, like I was trying to make up for lost time, but I couldn’t stop myself. “It’s impossible to explain the way I feel when I’m with you.” I looked deeply into his eyes, finding the remedy for all my fears.

    
Carter swallowed audibly, as if nervous, and took my hand. He peered down at it like it was the most beautiful, dainty thing he’d ever seen. “You may not believe it, but I thought about you nearly every single day that first year.”

    
“Maybe we were thinking of each other at the same moments,” I said, smiling at him. “But for me I thought about you every second of the day.”

    
“Would you do me
a favor?” he asked. “Wear the coat for me tonight?”

    
“Of course. I’d be honored., but to avoid drama, I think it’s best I leave it here when I’m not wearing it.”

 

***

 

    
The flash of paparazzi cameras gave off a
nearly
blinding glare
when we pulled up to Mr. Chow's Chinese Restaurant.
This was presumably the first hint of what was about to come. I wondered why on Earth Carter decided to take me to a place known for celebrity sightings
after we had discussed keeping a low profile.
The scene was like tossing a steak to a frenzy of sharks. I darted a quick look back at the chaos
as
the car inched its way to valet.
Carter’s bodyguard waited outside the restaurant. The minute Carter stepped out of the car, a swarm of paparazzi surrounded us.

     
“Back-off!” Carter’s bodyguard said to a photographer.

   
  “Just hold on to my hand and follow me,” Carter said.

    
“Aiden! Aiden!” screamed a photographer. “Who's your date?”

    
“Miss, you look beautiful tonight. What’s your name?” asked another photographer who crept up behind me.

    
“Don't worry about it, man,” Carter said as we made our way through the crowd.

    
Several girls screamed at the top of their lungs
when he passed by.
We continued pushing through the bodies that enclosed around us. Surprisingly, this type of attention was far from pleasing to Carter.

    
“Aiden, love your music!” shouted another paparazzi. “When’s your next album coming out?”

    
It took us around ten minutes to make our way through the maze of bodies, from the curb to the doorway. One thing became clear by the time we finally stepped inside the restaurant: Being a pop star was no walk in the park.

    
Inside the massive restaurant, dim glowing lights and extravagant furniture made for a soft and elegant setting.

    
“I have a private section reserved under the name Storm,” Carter said to the host.

    
The host walked us back to a beautifully decorated
part of the restaurant to where
we
were seated in a dining section accompanied with several Andy Warhol paintings.

    
“I’ve always heard about this place. Just never thought I would actually
ever eat here,” I said. “Can I ask you something?”

    
“Sure, what’s up?”

    
The clinking of flatware coincided with the sounds of conversation surrounding us. With my thoughts interrupted I asked, “If I told you I wanted to keep it discrete tonight, why would you bring me to one of the most celebrity-heavy restaurants in L.A.?”

    
Carter put his hand on top of mine, as though taking no offense,
and said, “Because it’s one of my favorites.”

    
I don’t know what triggered it. In a sudden inexplicable guilty haste, I thought about Scotty all alone at his awards ceremony and what I was in for when I got home. I just wanted to enjoy the evening
for the time being
and not think about any of my personal problems.

    
We dined
that evening
on exotic dishes such as rice-paper prawns and soup dumplings. Each time Carter and I collided, our conversations grew a little deeper. He had no fear of speaking about his past run-ins with the law and how he was once almost at the point of becoming an alcoholic. He explained how he was a changed man, and that he wasn’t planning to head down that dark road ever again. I was honored that he was comfortable enough to open up to me.

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