Never to Love (21 page)

“What makes you say that?”

“I think you’ve been protecting yourself. Some part of you, even if it’s not rational, is convinced you don’t want it since you can’t have it. Even though you can.”

“I don’t want it, Mom. Not everyone needs to have children to have a full life.”

“Agreed, but I’m not sure that’s true for you anymore. This kid showed you what you could have—what you
can
have—and I think you liked it.”

“Mom, you don’t know anything about the situa—” Fuck me.
I am never talking to my best friend again
. “Marina called you again, didn’t she?”

“No comment.”

“My feelings about this don’t matter.” Before I could continue my thought, my phone buzzed with a text from an unfamiliar number.

310-555-5214:
Think you can take what’s mine?

Several crazies had come out of the woodwork after my “date” with Brady, but they had all been mild. I had no idea how this one had gotten my personal cell number. Maybe it was a wrong number.

Refocusing on my mom, I continued, “Things are all messed up, and I may never see him again anyway.”

“What happened?”

“I stuck my nose where it didn’t belong.”

“That tells me your nose does belong there, you just don’t realize it yet, and neither does Thomas.”

“I don’t want this. How many times do I have to say it?”

“Until you realize you’re not fooling anyone, especially not yourself.”

“That’s the thing, I’m not fooling myself. So what if I had a string of good fucks and got to know a kid? I’ll get over it and get back to my normal life soon enough. In a couple of years, I’m sure I will have completely forgotten about them. This was probably just an experimentation phase.”

“I should have taken you to counseling when you were younger.”

“And I should get going. I have a busy day tomorrow. Lots of meetings.” One of which I wasn’t looking forward to. I had a feeling the empty chair would glare at me the entire time.

“Do you want leftovers?”

“No thanks, Mom.”

In a perfect world, nothing from that night would stick around for further consumption and/or regurgitation.

*

Thomas had backed out of our team of three, which left Finn and me to brainstorm publicity and fundraising ideas for Center of Hope. Somehow, everyone learned of my codename for the project and the reasoning behind it, and it had become the official name. There was only one person I’d explained it to, and although it was the only logical conclusion, I found it difficult to believe he was behind it.

If Thomas had dropped out so he could spend more time with Colton, I wouldn’t have blamed him one bit. However, according to Finn, Thomas could have made time for our bi-weekly meetings without extending his work hours.

Given the circumstances, I didn’t expect us to go back to being fuck buddies or even platonic friends, but how could he be angry enough with me to justify dropping out of a charitable project? Would discussing business with me really be that horrible? Yes, I was wrong to go behind his back, but based on what I’d heard since that night, everything had turned out okay despite my meddling.

After working one-on-one with Finn for two weeks, the extended project team, which got together once per month, was scheduled to meet in five minutes.

“Thomas will be here soon,” Finn said as he took the empty seat beside me. Confused, I looked at him for clarification. “He only stopped coming to our brainstorming sessions. He hasn’t dropped out completely.”

Looking around the table, I realized the only available seat was directly across from me. If I’d known Thomas was coming, I would have moved to the chair Finn currently occupied. There wasn’t anywhere better to go, and I wouldn’t ask to change seats. I’d just have to channel my inner Tate, who’d won awards for the I-don’t-give-a-flying-fuck attitude he’d brought to several of his most popular characters.

At least Finn had filled the empty spot next to me. If he hadn’t, I would have seriously considered faking some sort of intestinal distress and fled. Wouldn’t have been too big of a stretch considering what my mom had fed me the night before.

Would I have actually considered running away like a little girl? I’d like to think I wouldn’t, but Thomas had fucked with my head. How had I let that happen? Fuck channeling Tate, I didn’t need to pretend, I needed to remember who I was. Julianne Fucking Griffith didn’t take shit from anyone, and she certainly would never consider fleeing because an idiot was mean to her.

After my internal pep talk, I kept my gaze firmly affixed to the iPad in front of me. Thomas would not catch me looking anywhere near the door when he came in, and I would not acknowledge his presence until I was good and ready.

“Sorry I’m late,” Thomas said. According to the time on the screen I’d been studying, he’d walked in three minutes past the scheduled start time.

So he wouldn’t think his presence had any effect on me at all, I looked around the room as people made conversation. Without looking directly at him, I noticed he was being careful to avoid making eye contact with me, as well.

After broadcasting a slide deck to the other tablets in the room, Finn got the meeting started. “Julianne and I have been brainstorming an event to kick off the fundraising campaign. Based on analysis of current trends, we feel a black-tie gala will generate the most attention and draw in scores of big names.

“If we hold it here in the grand ballroom, we won’t need to rent a location. There will be a significant cover charge, and we will also hold an auction. All revenue will go directly to the foundation.” Taking a breath, Finn looked at his marketing director. “As an added bonus, the hotel will get a lot of publicity.” Chad’s face lit up immediately.

“Marina and Tate will be billed as the official hosts, which means most of Hollywood will be fighting for tickets,” I said, picking up where Finn left off. “There are more details in the slides we sent to your tablets. As you can see in the artist’s renderings, we plan to set up the ballroom’s dedicated external entrance and patio to feel like a movie premier. In the spirit of charity, I reached out to the Make-A-Wish Foundation and found out there are several kids whose wish involves things like walking a red carpet and meeting movie stars. This would be a fantastic opportunity for them.” After taking the temperature of the room, I added, “And will garner even more free publicity for all parties involved,” to make the suits happy. I shouldn’t have had to say it out loud, but it worked. Damn. Not long ago, I would have been one of the suits who only cared about how it benefited me.

By the time we disbanded, everyone was on board and assignments had been given. Thomas was in charge of leading a team to coordinate the logistics of the gala. Finn would handle the finances, which included figuring out the optimal price per head to maximize revenue and ensure the attendees fit our target demographic. My team and I would work our magic with our industry contacts to gather donations for the auction, and I would personally make sure everyone who was anyone would be desperate to attend.

With this meeting now in the past, I wouldn’t have to see Thomas again for another four or five weeks, which was a good thing.

So why didn’t it
feel
good?

Why hadn’t
anything
felt good lately? Fuck that noise. Apparently, I hadn’t completely snuffed out weak Juli. No matter how awesome I was, it would probably still take more than an hour or two.

Lingering a little longer than I should have, Finn and I ended up being the last two in the room.

“How are Tate and Marina? I heard more breakup rumors the other day.” Finn’s seemingly casual question didn’t quite conceal an undertone of something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. “Does it have anything to do with Brady Johns?”

Surely the thought of two people losing a storybook love wouldn’t make him happy. I couldn’t remember if he’d even met them. Maybe seeing them fail would make him feel better about his shitty marriage. Or maybe he just had a problem with Brady. Perhaps Finn resented the man because of Thomas’s little tantrum about my “date” with the young actor and the story stirred it up. Regardless, more rumors meant I had more work to do.

“They’re doing very well,” I said. Deciding to educate the man, I added, “Almost all rumors are started due to jealousy. To the outside world, it looks like they have it all: fame, money, love. How many people find their soulmates?”

Meeting his eyes, I did my best to ignore the unsettling disappointment on Finn’s handsome face and tried to lighten the mood. Smiling, I said, “You found your soulmate, right?”

“I thought I had.” Rubbing his palm over the back of his neck, he said, “I have another meeting to get to. See you next week?”

“See you then.”

After shoving my iPad into my over-sized bag, I started toward the door but didn’t make it very far.

“Do you really believe that?” Thomas asked in a quiet voice—too quiet—as he pulled the door closed behind him.

“Believe what? That Finn and Kristy are soulmates?”

“No, that the concept of a soulmate isn’t a load of shit.”

“I have to believe it; I see it every day. Very few people find it, but what Marina and Tate have is the real deal.”

“But what about your rules?”

“Not everyone has a soulmate. Given the composition of the global population and factoring in current statistics regarding sexual orientation—limited as those statistics may be—a one-to-one ratio is mathematically impossible.” Thomas nodded absently as he considered my thoughts on the subject. “Honestly, I would have no use for one. If I do have a soulmate wandering around out there, why not donate him or her to someone who doesn’t?”

If I would have made a list of every possible conversation I could have with Thomas, and ordered it by likelihood to occur, that one would have been dead last.

“I don’t know what to believe anymore,” he said, barely loud enough for me to hear.

“I’m the wrong person to talk to.”

“Why?”

“For starters, I only have theories and observations, no personal experience.”

“I’ve come to appreciate how observant you are.”

Was he referring to my spiel about soulmates? “Secondly,” I continued, “what little you and I had has run its course. This isn’t the kind of conversation you have with someone you barely know, let alone resent.”

“Wait a minute.” He looked at me with confused eyes. “You think I resent you?”

“It’s okay; I understand. Interfering with Colton was a line I shouldn’t have crossed.”

“You saved him.” Thomas’s Adam’s apple bobbed a few times and his next words were laced with uncomfortable emotion. “Thanks to your ‘interference’ he doesn’t have any permanent damage. The doctor said it was only a matter of time before he wouldn’t have been able to fully recover. So, no, I don’t resent you. I’m incredibly grateful to you and thoroughly ashamed of how I behaved.” Thomas apologizing for his behavior was another conversation at the bottom of the list.

“He’s a cool kid. I’m glad he’s going to be okay.” As I took another step toward the door, he stopped me with the most nauseating sentence I’d ever heard.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’d be a great mother. After knowing him for less than a week, you acted more like a mom to Colton than Natalie ever did.”

Those were fighting words. I was not maternal. Julianne Fucking Griffith didn’t do superhero birthday parties, snotty noses, or skinned knees. But apparently, she did theme parks, zombie costumes, and twisted ankles. How the fuck did that happen?

It’s not that I didn’t care about Colton. Somehow, the little guy had sucked me into his trap, and I couldn’t break free if I wanted to. I was no longer sure what I wanted, but I certainly wasn’t cut out to be anyone’s mom. I wasn’t wired that way. My life consisted of working and fucking.

“I don’t know much about what’s going on with Natalie,” I said. I’d inferred a hell of a lot, but none of it was fact, and the longer I’d thought about it, the more I believed it couldn’t have been true. “As you said, I don’t know shit about the two of you, but regardless of extorting those men, she has to love him. She gave birth to him and raised him. All I did was take him to the doctor.”

“You didn’t save him from a negligent physician or pharmacist, and Natalie isn’t stupid. She hurt him intentionally. She could have killed him. You saved him from his mother.”

Thomas had confirmed my worst fear. Maybe he wasn’t the only one who had issues with denial. I couldn’t imagine doing something like that to anyone, so how could a mother do it to her own child? “Why would she do that?”

“Who the fuck knows? Attention? Satisfaction of outsmarting doctors? Manipulation? Maybe she wanted to extort the gullible assholes for medical expenses.” Thomas paused his rant and shoved his hands into his pockets. While looking at his shoes, he took a deep breath. In a moment of vulnerability, he lifted his eyes and looked at me from under his lashes. “Colton’s been asking about you. Wants to know if you’re going to come visit him.”

Those two sentences made me want to kick Thomas in the nuts; how could he let Colton believe I didn’t want to see him anymore? But how did those words also make my chest physically hurt? “Maybe we could meet up at a park or the mall or wherever it is kids like to go.”