Waking Up With You (6 page)

“But he earns the money!” I’m shocked at the idea of spending so much for an outfit.

“Take out your credit card right now and buy the dress before someone else comes along and snatches it.” She’s about to grab my purse and I hold on to it tightly. “Emma, I swear…”

“You’ve never spoiled yourself in any way. Just this once. Please,” she begs. “I have a good feeling about this dress. You’re going to be the belle of the ball in it. Guaranteed.”

“Alright already! I haven’t even begun my part-time job and I’m already spending my salary? You probably would be able to sell the Golden Gate Bridge to anyone. Fine, just stop the hard sell,” I say with a half-smile. Paige grins and claps her hands in glee. I carefully undress and put back my own outfit. We go to the counter and I reluctantly hand my new credit card to the saleslady and she starts to put the gown in a garment bag. It certainly didn’t take long for me to break my promise not to use the cards Jake gave me. I sigh and cross my fingers that Paige was right about me needing something elegant to wear.

We leave the shop and go next door, where Paige splurges on a pair of running shoes and some tops for the gym. I check out Barneys New York and find a present for Jake. It’s a quirky blue tie with building blueprints. Either he’ll love it or hate it. I’m praying it’s the former.

After some window shopping at Topshop and Anthropologie, Dylan’s Candy Bar is our last stop. Paige gets some sour candy while I get a dark chocolate candy bar. Can’t ignore the sweet tooth. We head off to the car, shopping bags in one hand and candy in the other.

I drop off Paige at her house and, after a quick hug, she says, “Do not return that dress, Em. I know you, you’re already secretly regretting having bought it.”

Of course, she can see right through me. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” I lie.

She looks at me sternly and says, “Yeah, right.” I can’t help but smile.

“Okay, my partner in crime, I gotta go. I hope Jake’s not home yet. I didn’t realize it was this late. But I sure had fun.”

“We’re leaving for Hawaii next Monday. I’ll see you when we get back.” She blows me a kiss and I go home.

As I enter the driveway, I see Jake scowling at me. I step out of the car and say, “Hi Jake. How long have you been home?”

“Long enough,” he responds shortly. “Don’t you pick up your phone?”

I quickly take my cell phone out of my purse and see at least half a dozen missed calls, and some text messages. “I’m sorry. I probably didn’t hear the ringing because I was in a noisy, crowded area.”

“It’s eight o’clock. We were supposed to have dinner, remember?” he asks icily.

“We were? I thought you were just being polite, but didn’t really mean it,” I say without filtering my thoughts.

“I see. Obviously, you’re harboring a misconception. I don’t say things I don’t mean. Do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Ahh, never mind, Emma. You’re probably tired, and so am I. Let’s just call it a day,” he says in a monotone.

“No, wait, Jake. I’m sorry. It’s just that last night you came home really late, so I thought you might do the same thing again. We can go have dinner wherever you like. I’ll drive.” I smile a bit nervously.

“I made reservations for seven, so we won’t be able to get a table now.”

“There are hundreds of restaurants. We can go somewhere else.”

“Any ideas then?” he tries to be conciliatory.

“How about the best burgers, fries, and shakes in town?” He looks questioningly at me. “In N Out,” I say excitedly.

“God, I haven’t eaten there in years. Okay, why not? You drive and your treat,” he says, finally smiling.

“But, I warn you, don’t be impatient. The drive thru line is usually long.”

“I waited long enough for you. I can wait a while longer,” he says in a last effort to make me feel guilty.

We head out to the In N Out branch on First Street. True enough, the line is really long. A female employee with a headset and a handheld portable ordering system stops us midway to the cashier and takes our order. We go all out with double-doubles, fries, and chocolate shakes. After fifteen minutes, it’s our turn at the cashier and we get our orders. The server is an attractive blonde around my age, and she gives Jake a flirtatious smile. I say ‘thank you’ as I reach for the box but I can’t make an effort to smile.

“Do you want to park and eat inside the car?” I ask Jake.

“What do you normally do?” he asks me in return.

“I’m bringing you to the best skyline view at night in Los Angeles,” I reply. He looks at me doubtfully and shrugs.

We cruise towards Mulholland Drive. There are good stretches of narrow twists and hairpin turns that are tricky to drive in, but we make it to the Hollywood Bowl overlook. I park and we both admire the panoramic view. We get out of the car to gaze at the sight. The twinkling city lights down below are magnificent. Classical music from the concert at the bowl wafts through, and the effect is just stunning. We forget about the food and just silently enjoy everything.

“How do I not know about this place?” Jake whispers, seemingly in a trance.

I come closer to Jake and my hand reaches for his. I then slowly lean my head on his shoulder. “Are you cold?” he asks in a raspy voice. I nod and he encircles me in his arms. I relax into his warm embrace. I look into his darkened eyes and his expression is indecipherable. His jaw is clenched, and he doesn’t meet my long, fixed stare.

He softly touches his lips to my forehead. He then kisses my eyes, my nose, my cheek, and jaw. I am quivering inside when his mouth finally descends to meet mine. His kiss starts out tentatively, almost caressingly, until I dare to bite his lower lip lightly. For a second, he seems shocked, and then the kiss suddenly turns into one of reckless abandon. His firm mouth demands a response and I’m shocked at how eagerly I reciprocate. My heart is beating fast and my knees are trembling. I want it to go on and on. But he suddenly stops and tears away, leaving me weak and breathless.

“Is this where you go to make out with your boyfriends?” he spits out derisively. I take a move backward. Why is he furious? Why would he even think that? I’ve been here many times before, but only with friends. I say nothing, unable to understand the sudden change in his mood.

He puts his hands to his temple and then flings them down in disgust. He opens his mouth as if to say something, and then closes it once again. He glares at me, seemingly revolted.

I want him to say something. “Jake, what’s going on? Why are you being weird?” I ask, in an effort to understand what is going on.

“Do you get a kick out of playing around with me, Emma?” His expression is once again unfathomable.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. My friends and I used to come up here all the time. I thought you’d like the view. And don’t flatter yourself, Jake. I didn’t intend to …you know…start anything,” I finish lamely.

He rakes his hand through his hair and looks apologetically at me. “I’m sorry, Em. I don’t know what I was thinking.” He sighs deeply. “I think we underestimated how challenging our relationship would be. Maybe we should be setting some rules so that…” he doesn’t continue. But I know what he leaves unsaid. So that I won’t misunderstand and imagine that our marriage is for real.
Don’t worry, Jake Morgan, I know I’m not your type.

I realize it will be better to get over the awkwardness and just be on friendly terms with him. It was a momentary weakness that led to that kiss. I don’t know why I reacted that way, why I wanted much more than a virtuous kiss on my forehead. I don’t know why I pushed myself on him that way. Then I realize that he probably found my response distasteful. I want to cover my face with my hands, but I hold on to my last shred of dignity. So I ask in a calm voice, “What rules do you have in mind?”

“I don’t know, Em. I’m sorry we never had this discussion before we got married. How could I have been so stupid?”

I flinch away from his words.

“I run a successful business and I know damn well the key is planning and preparation. But I go into this thing like a fool without even thinking of the potential risks,” he continues.

Like a fool. Risk.
I feel him twisting a knife inside of me as he utters each word. “Don’t worry about it. We can always start all over.’ I try very hard not to show any emotion.
Be cool, Emma.
“I think the first rule is not to tell anyone we’re married.”

“Do you really want to do that?” His tone is hostile.

“Why not? Have you even told anyone about our wedding?” I ask him challengingly.

“We just got married. I’ve been very busy putting out fires at work. Besides, I don’t need to take out an ad and tell the world I’ve just gotten married. It’s no one’s business,” he says defensively.

“Then, we’re on the right track. I’ve only told Paige, of course, and no one else. If we don’t tell people, we’re not expected to make appearances as a couple, or even act like one.”

“That’s true, except that tonight happened not because anyone knows, but because we were alone,” he says dryly.

“Alright then, that should be rule number two. Except for the times we are at home, we should avoid being alone. That should be easy to follow considering that you’re always at work and soon I’ll be at school the whole day.”

“Em, I’m not running away from you. I’m just saying that there are situations which can prove dangerous.”

“I know what you’re saying. You don’t want a repeat of what just happened. I don’t want it to happen again either,” I lie through my teeth. He seems uncomfortable with what I’ve just said, but I plod on.

“Rule number three – only friendly gestures are allowed.”

“Friendly gestures?” he asks mockingly.

“You know what I mean – brief hugs, pecks on the cheek, handshakes are the only things permitted.”

“I see.” If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he’s disappointed. “Okay, let’s see what happens,” he says almost cryptically.

I make it easier for him by saying, “Okay, since we’re starting all over, let’s get in the car and eat our burgers. I’m afraid the fries are now soggy, but the sandwiches and shakes will still be fine.”

He seems relieved that I’m over it. He gets in, I turn on the sound system and we eat while we listen to Coldplay.

“This was actually a great idea, Em. I’ve forgotten how good it is to just –“ he seems unable to remember the right word.

“Chill?” I fill in the blank. “Yup! We be chilling right now,” I say in my best rapper imitation.

He laughs and I join in. He looks like a little boy without a care in the world. This is how I want to see him. He’s a good man and I owe him so much. I should do whatever I can to make him happy. He may be my husband, but we will never be anything more than friends. I will have serenity in my life once I learn to accept that.

Once we reach home, I say good night and walk at a faster-than-normal pace to my room, shopping bag in hand. I take off my sandals and massage my aching feet. I hear a soft knock on the door and Jake peeps through the half-open door. “I’m having a round of golf tomorrow and brunch at the club. I’ll be leaving at seven. Will you be okay on your own, Em?” he asks anxiously.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be? There are lots of things I can do. Are you gonna be gone the whole day?”

“Probably,” he says vaguely.

“I’ll see you when I see you,” I force a smile on my face. “Oh, wait! I forgot to give you this,” I say as I rummage through the shopping bag for the tie from Barneys, and hand it to him.

He looks at it and says, “Thank you, Em. I’ve never gotten such a unique gift.”

“Is that a good thing?” I ask with a frown.

“Most definitely.” He smiles again and whispers, “Good night.”

The door closes behind him and a wave of despondency hits me.
I will be okay
. I say this to myself like a mantra. The thing is, my mind seems unable to control the rest of me.

After a long, hot shower, I lay on the bed, willing myself to sleep, but my brain wants to process the day’s events. I open the sliding door that leads to the garden, thinking that a breath of fresh air will do me good. It’s a balmy night, and I go out in my cami and shorts. I raise my arms to feel the refreshing breeze. As I turn to go back to my room, I see Jake sitting on one of the lounging chairs. He gazes at me and says nothing. I blush and go back inside. Was he looking at me all this time? Does he think I deliberately went out to follow him? Why did I not put on my robe?
It’s like I just can’t get a break
.

I fall to the bed, miserable at my string of missteps. I reach for my brother’s watch on the nightstand.
Oh, Charlie, if I could only travel back in time
. Moments pass and my eyelids become heavy. I hear footsteps in the hallway. There’s a gentle knock on my door and then the soft whoosh as the door is opened. I turn to my right to greet him. Jake whispers, “I’m sorry, Em.” His shoulders slumped, he leaves as quietly as he arrived. I push my blanket away and rush after him. I don’t see him and I search in every room, but he’s nowhere to be found. I’m close to tears when I finally spot him at the entrance. He runs away when I call his name. I beg him to stop, but he’s so far down the driveway, I can’t keep up in my bare feet. I open my eyes, adjusting to the light, and I feel the hot tears that slip down my cheeks.

I upbraid myself for being so attracted to him. Even when asleep, I’m consumed by images and thoughts of Jake. I have to learn to let go. I have to stop thinking of him this way. He is a friend who has come to my rescue. He is a friend and nothing more. He is a friend who just happens to be married to me. Period. The sooner I accept that, the sooner I will be free of this crushing wretchedness.

I can’t be carrying this emotional baggage with me all the time, so I decide to focus all my energy on my new part-time job. The best defense is a good offense. I bring out my planner and fill out my calendar for the next two weeks. If I’m going to do social media for Jake’s firm, I have to come up with a great strategy for marketing. I need to develop an orderly system of regularly updating the company’s profile, come up with daily tweets, meticulously choose photographs for Instagram, Pinterest, and other sites. I don’t even know if the company has a blog, but if it doesn’t, I need to revise the website to accommodate one. An easy task if it’s in Wordpress. It will be a good educational vehicle for people who know little about good architecture.