Behind Closed Doors (11 page)

“There. Perfect.”

He handed me my purse and I pulled out my cell. The missed call was from Emily, probably wondering where I was.

“I have to go, the cars will be leaving soon,” I said.

“If you want to stay, I can take you back to the house later,” he said as his arms encircled my waist.

“And how am I going to explain that to my nosey housemates?”

He sighed and kissed my lips once more before dropping his hands into his pockets.

“I’ll see you on Saturday though?” I questioned.

“Can’t wait.” He smiled and his eyes lit up.

I walked toward the door and noticed a glass jar filled with M&M's sitting on the coffee table. I stopped to grab a handful and threw a few into my mouth. I crunched them noisily between my teeth.

“Sweet tooth?” I asked.

“You have no idea,” Jayce answered, grabbing a handful for himself.

“Okay. I really am leaving now otherwise I’ll miss my ride home.” I was stalling. I didn’t want to leave him.

“Hurry up then. Otherwise, I’ll have to drive you home myself. What a tragedy that would be.”

I opened the door and looked up and down the corridor, making sure the halls were empty before giving Jayce a hurried kiss goodbye. I exhaled noisily into the empty hallway. Saturday couldn’t come soon enough.

***

That night I couldn’t get Jayce out of my head. Ever since I’d met him, there was no one else I could think about. He possessed my every waking thought… and it scared me.

I could almost feel his breath against my neck as I replayed the events of the afternoon in my head. The moment where he held me against the door, his hands roaming my body as if he knew me intimately. Then on the couch, he could have taken me then and there and I wouldn’t have fought it.

My thoughts drifted to his wife, still coming to terms with the fact that Jayce was married. I had a sudden urge to see his wife, I didn’t even know her name, but I wanted to find out every little detail about her. When my roommates were sound asleep, I opened my laptop and typed 
Jayce del Valle wife
 into the search bar. There were twenty million hits and within seconds, the screen was filled with search results.

I clicked on an image of Jayce standing with a tall brunette at a red carpet event in New York.

The caption read: 
Delicious Jayce del Valle with stunning wife Samantha Pryer at the launch of Samantha’s new clothing line, Pry Her.

That was her name, 
Samantha
. I repeated the name in my head and tried to imagine Jayce pronouncing it. I wondered if her name sounded sweeter when he was the one uttering it.

I stared at the photo on the screen. The woman, Samantha, looked picture perfect, wearing a short red dress that showed her model like physic. She had no boobs or ass to speak of. She was straight up and down skinny, the complete opposite of me. Her dark brown hair was straightened and pulled sleekly away from her face. Her high cheekbones screamed model and her brown, almost black, eyes smoldered, flirting with the camera. In her heels, she stood just taller than Jayce.

He had his arm wrapped around her waist and I couldn’t deny that he looked happy in the photo. His hair was spiked and messy, his face clean-shaven and he was wearing dressy black pants with a navy blue shirt, the top buttons undone.

I clicked on the next image result, which was a photo of Jayce and Samantha taken by paparazzi. Jayce had his head down and he was holding Samantha’s hand, leading her into a restaurant. Samantha had her hair in a low ponytail and sunglasses hiding her eyes. 

I was surprised by the bitterness I felt toward the woman in the photos. I had never met her and knew very little about her. All I knew was that I didn’t like her. Perhaps I was jealous of her, but I wasn’t about to admit that.

I typed a new search for just 
Samantha Pryer
 and waited impatiently for the results to come up. A mini bio appeared showing her birthdate 10th June 1984. She was twenty-nine. Only two years older than me. For some reason, I thought she would be much older. She was born and raised in the prestigious county of Surrey, London, the daughter of a doctor and a model, nonetheless. She moved to the US at fifteen to pursue her own career in modeling.

I clicked on more image results, most of which were taken at red carpet events, many of them solo or with other modelesque looking women. There was no denying she was a beautiful woman and in a way, Jayce and Samantha suited one another.

Feeling disheartened, I shut my laptop down and threw it toward the end of my bed. It was the middle of the night, but I decided to take a shower. Nothing like some steaming hot water to rid my mind of Jayce and his perfect little wife.

Chapter 11

I checked my hair and makeup in the rearview mirror. From my reflection, you could barely tell I was nervous. I carefully placed a baseball cap over my straightened hair. I borrowed the cap from Yuri earlier in the morning, using the excuse that I was going to the beach and didn’t want to catch too much sun. I was wearing the cap in an attempt to disguise myself, in case a few stray paparazzi lurked in front of Jayce’s apartment.

I rounded the corner to Jayce’s street and pranked his phone as we had planned. True to his word, he was waiting outside and he’d already opened the garage door. He ushered me into the safety of his garage and I pulled up next to his SUV. He lowered the garage door and walked over to greet me.

“Hey, nice cap,” he said as he ran his finger along the brim of Yuri’s baseball cap. “You don’t seem like an Astros fan though.”

He grabbed me by the hips and pulled into him as he softly kissed my glossed lips.

“It’s Yuri’s,” I said, taking the cap off and throwing it to the passenger seat. “I needed a disguise.”

“I’ll have to give you a Dodgers cap before you leave. You can at least go incognito in style.”

I looked up at his face and immediately noticed that he seemed different. His face was relaxed and his manner was playful. He looked gorgeous as usual. He was the only person I knew that could make gray sweatpants and a plain t-shirt look irresistible.

He took my hand in his and led me toward the side entrance of his apartment.

“Come on, I’ll give you the tour.”

We walked into the apartment through a bright and modern kitchen. It was decked out with white marble bench tops and modern appliances. It was tidy, but still looked lived in. From the fruit bowl that sat on the bench, full of fresh apples and oranges, to the countertop where a baguette sat next to a tub of butter. A breakfast bench separated the open planned kitchen and dining area. The set-up was similar to my own kitchen at home.

Jayce led me through the simple and clean dining area into the living room. The room was large. A huge plasma screen was the focal point, surrounded by oversized taupe lounge chairs. The room looked homey and I admired the faux fireplace that sat against the back wall.

I glanced behind me to find a huge wedding photo taking up the majority of the far right wall. I felt a pang of jealousy as I studied the canvas. Samantha was stunning in an ivory dress with a sweetheart neckline. Her hair was pinned back and framed by an elegant tiara. Jayce held her to his chest as he smiled at the camera, looking irresistible as always, wearing a cream tux and white shirt.

Jayce followed my gaze and grabbed my hand as soon as he realized what had caught my attention.

“Sorry, I should’ve taken that down. I didn’t even think of it.” Jayce laced our fingers together and looked at me anxiously.

“No, it’s fine,” I murmured. “You’re married, I get it.”

He sighed feebly. “Come on, I’ll make you some lunch.” He steered me toward the kitchen and it seemed the tour was put on hold.

“You don’t need to cook for me, I’m not really hungry,” I sat on one of the stools at the breakfast bench.

“Too bad, I’m hungry and that means we’re eating.” His tone was firm and I knew better than to argue.

I lost my appetite as soon as I saw the wedding photo of the picture perfect couple. Inwardly, I was scorning myself. I knew what I was getting myself into by agreeing to see Jayce. I relinquished the right to act judgmental the moment I decided to get involved with a married man.

“Wine or coffee? Your choice.”

“I’ll settle for a water,” I responded.

“Suit yourself, but I’m having a wine.” Jayce made his way to the fridge and grabbed me a bottle of sparkling water. He poured the contents into a glass and handed it to me, looking into my eyes as he tried to gauge my mood. I gave nothing away as I glanced around the kitchen.

He poured himself a red wine and got some ingredients out of the fridge. He moved around the room with ease, as if he spent a lot of time cooking.
Brody could barely make himself a cup of coffee without causing havoc in the kitchen.

“You got out of the house okay? No one asked any questions?” he asked.

“No, there were questions,” I admitted. “I said I was going to meet a friend at the beach. Emily tried to invite herself at one point.”

“I like the girl, but she seems like a handful,” he responded.

“Tell me about it. She wasn’t too happy when I said she couldn’t come. I should have checked the car to make sure she didn’t hide in the backseat.”

Jayce looked up at me to make sure I was joking. He looked relieved when he saw me smile.

“And Marc didn’t jump in the car with you?” he asked, taking me by surprise.

“Why would Marc be in the car with me?” I questioned.

“I just have a feeling that Marc would like to spend some time alone with you.” He didn’t look up from the chopping board and his expression gave nothing away.

“What makes you say that?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.

“Just a feeling I have,” he said. “You like omelets?” he asked, conveniently changing the subject. He began chopping some cherry tomatoes and popped one in his mouth.

“Sure. I like omelets.” I responded.

Jayce went on to dice an onion and then made the omelet mixture. I never imagined Jayce in the kitchen cooking. I envisioned him at home, in a robe with a maid and a chef on call to fulfill his every need. How wrong I was.

“You like cooking?” I asked.

“I enjoy it, although I don’t think I’m great at it or anything. It just allows me to escape and concentrate on something other than the band.” He ate another tomato before flicking on some music. Instantly, the sweet drone of Jeff Buckley filled the room.

Jayce began cooking the food in a pan, impressing me when he flipped the omelet and didn’t drop it, as I would have if I attempted the same trick. He sliced up some of the baguette and put it on the side as he served me my full plate. I didn’t start eating until he was almost done cooking his own omelet.

“Eat up, it wont taste as good if it’s cold.”

“So bossy,” I teased.

He cocked his head and smirked at me.

We ate our lunch and talked about Jayce’s life in Los Angeles and how he lived by himself ninety percent of the time. He mentioned that Samantha didn’t spend much time in Los Angeles anymore. Her clothing line had launched recently and she was constantly required to be in New York where the production took place.

It was the first time he had talked about Samantha and although it was awkward, I appreciated hearing about her from his point of view.

“I’m so glad you ate your omelet, Sam never eats any of my food,” Jayce said, placing his knife and fork on the plate. I couldn’t help the wave of jealousy that overcame me at the mention of her name. I was sure Jayce noticed the look upon my face.

“Why not?”

“She doesn’t like what I cook. She says it’s too fatty. All she ever eats is salad, chicken and egg whites,” he rolled his eyes as he gathered our plates and took them to the sink.

He was clearly a good cook and most women could only dream of having a husband who liked being in the kitchen.

“But you go out to restaurants together?” I asked.

“We don’t do anything together, except press events and award shows.”

“Why did you get married?”

“I loved her.” He said with no hesitation.

“Do you still-” I swallowed some water before asking the question in full. “Do you still love her?”

Jayce looked into the distance, seemingly deep in thought. Maybe he was really contemplating the question. 
Did he still love his wife?

“We’re totally different people now. I care for her well being, but no, I’m not in love with her.”

I didn’t know how to respond to his admission, which must have been hard for him to divulge.

“I know my marriage is a sham,” he said, his confession filling the room.

“Why don’t you end it?” I asked, as if it were my business.

“In this industry it’s all about timing,” he responded flatly. “It has just never been the right time. And although Sam and I don’t act married, we’ve never actually had a conversation about breaking up.”

I nodded, but I didn’t truly understand his reasoning.

“What about you, would you have married the asshole if you didn’t find him cheating on you?”

I thought long and hard about Jayce’s question before answering.

“I probably would have married him. I thought he was everything I 
should
 want in a man, but did I truly love him? Probably not, it was just easier to stay with him than to break up.”

My confession shocked even me. I never thought I would be one to settle, but that’s exactly what I would have been doing if I stayed with Brody.

I shook my head. “I don’t know. Maybe all of my memories are tarnished now. I can’t remember the good over the bad.”

“I have to be honest with you. I’m glad you went home early that day. It opened your eyes, not only to who he really was, but also to what you wanted from life. And it made you enter this singing competition in the process. You know some people would call that fate.”

Fate?
 What was he implying?

“Sometimes I wish fate wasn’t so cruel. The journey hasn’t been easy.”

“The journey never is, but I hope your destination is everything you imagined it would be.”