I Love My Side of the Story (9 page)

Eighteen Minutes Later

When I get there, her name on the
building directory stops me:
Amber Monroe
Casting
. Pride swells. My girl is a successful casting director on her way
up to the big leagues. Now we’re
both
on our way! We’re gonna get there together, and it’s gonna be great. I take the
stairs two at a time without losing my breath.

Inside, she and Annie are in the main
room, shocked to see me.

“Oh, Josh, you scared me!” Annie laughs.

“Hey Annie. Sorry.” I look at my girl
and smile, “Hey you.”

She comes over and kisses me. “Hey.”

Annie says something and leaves. “See ya
Annie.” I call after her – my eye on the prize.

Amber and I shoot the shit for awhile,
but all I can think is how I want to push her up against a wall and fuck the
living daylights out of her. As soon as I can, I grab her, pick her up and eat
her out until she’s screaming and grabbing onto my head for dear life. When she
collapses onto me, and I lay her on the chair, it pops out: “I think we should
move in together.” No reaction from Amber. She didn’t hear me because she’s
wrecked. I love it. Well, here’s my chance to back out. Nah. Looking at her, I
know what I’ve always known – I want to be with her. I repeat, “I said I
think we should move in together.”

I see her stop breathing. One eye peers
up at me. “Excuse me?”

“I think we should move in together. I
don’t want to live apart from you anymore.” I stand and walk to a framed pic of
her, Jess and Nicole. Huh. Where’s us?

She springs upright, “Really?”

I sit on her desk, taking up a fraction
of its gargantuan size. I look down, but see no pic of us there either. “Yeah.
Really.”

We talk about the logistics and it
occurs to me… “Oh, you didn’t tell me. What project are you working on?”

“The new Spike Jonze film,” she says.

Say what??!!! “Spike Jonze?
Adaptation
Spike Jonze?
Being John Malkovich
Spike Jonze?”

“Uh… yeah. It’s my first feature with
him.”

“Well, he doesn’t do TV, so of course
it’s a feature film,” I explain like an idiot out of sheer brain-splitting
enthusiasm.

“You know a lot about him…”she says
slowly.

“Who doesn’t? His films are ground
breaking. The guy is a phenomenal talent.” Impressed and convinced we are both
bound for the big life, I say, “Wow, Amber. I can’t believe he hired you.”

She gets tense and backs away from me.
“Why wouldn’t he hire me? I work really hard, Josh. And I’m good at what I do.”

 
“Baby, no no no…” I reach out, grab her
to explain, “I didn’t mean anything by it. I just meant it’s an incredible
opportunity. How far are you into casting?”

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I
cringe. I promised myself I’d never ask her for an audition.

“Far. Just have a couple women’s parts
to do left,” she says.

“Oh.” I’m almost relieved, because I
don’t want her to think I’m a mooch.

“Yeah…” It’s obvious she’s bummed she
didn’t bring me in to audition. Kicking myself for asking, I walk away.

“Are you leaving?”

I turn around, surprised. “Yeah. We’re
going to celebrate. This is a big day. My baby and I are moving in together.”

She’s got a weird expression on her
face, and no top on. “Oh. I should put some clothes on.”

I grin and run over to her. “Nah. I like
you like this.” I swing her around, set her down.

For the remainder of the night, as I go
over planning the move – movers, notice to our landlords, changing
addresses, the best day to do, etc…
 
– she barely says a word, because she knows I’ve got it covered.
This makes me feel pretty great, I won’t lie.

At dinner I say, taking a bite of my
steak. “Babe, one thing I’m not sure on. Should we live in your place or mine?”

She pushes some grilled veggies around
her plate. “I don’t know Josh. What do you think?”

“I think your place is bigger. It has a
more homey feel to it.”

She smiles. “You think so?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do. Your place it is.”

“
Our
place, soon,” she corrects me.

“To our place.” We lift up our glasses.

“To our place,” she says, and drinks,
looking down.

I say, “You’re barely eating,” and slice
off another chunk of meat, shove it in my mouth.

“Yeah.” she shrugs. “Not hungry. Too
excited, I guess.”

“Amber?”

“Yes?” She looks up.

“I love you.”

She smiles. “I love you, too, Josh.”

Night
Before The Move-In

Stepping out of the subway, my phone
rings. I pull it out of my pocket and see it’s my agent. Odd to get a call from
her after 6 p.m. I look at the time and see 7:32 p.m. Huh. Are they going to
drop me? My heart is beating fast. Please don’t drop me the night before I move
in with my girl.

 
“Josh here.”

“Josh, it’s Marci.”

“Hey… yeah, I know. What’s up?”

“I just got the call about that Toyota
spot you auditioned for last week. You booked it.”

I stop walking, nearly colliding into a
guy who was pedestrian-tailgating me. “What the fuck!” he says.

“Then don’t follow so close!” I yell. To
her, I say; nicer, “Say that again.”

“You booked it. You booked the Toyota
spot.”

I hold my head, look down at the
sidewalk and turn in a circle. “You’re shitting me.”

She laughs, “No. I’m really not. You
have a wardrobe fitting on…”

But I cut her off by whooping and
hollering and jumping in the air with a fist pump like you would not believe.
“I BOOKED IT??! Oh my God – Marci, I’m moving in with my girl tomorrow!
This is the best news ever. Thank you! Thank you!!”

Through laughter, she says, “That’s very
exciting! I’m so happy for you. Well, have a good weekend moving in with your
girlfriend because your fitting isn’t until Monday. You’re free until then! The
shoot will be sometime between next Tuesday through Friday, and we’ll have the
exact dates for you soon.”

“Okay, I’ll be there,” I say seriously
and then burst out with, “What am I talking about? Of course I’ll be there! Why
would I be anywhere else? This is so great. You don’t even know. National
Network, right?”

“Yep!”

“Wooohoooo!!! Thank you, Marci. You just
made my life. Thank you.”

“Goodnight Josh. And congratulations on
your move. She must be very special.”

“She is. She is. Goodnight Marci. Have a
good weekend.”

“It’s not as good as yours is, but I’ll
try,” she says with a chuckle and hangs up.

I take off running. When I get to
Amber’s building to pick her up – tomorrow,
our
building, wow – I stop outside. You know what? I’m going
to wait to tell her the good news. I’ll wait until we’re at dinner with Jess
and David. Make it a real celebration. Dinner on me! The stars are shining on
me today, man! They are mother fucking
shining
!!!

Thirty-Three Minutes Later

I look around the place, my first time
here. The restaurant is a slender long rectangle, lit by retro lampshades above
wood tables and comfortable cushioned seats backed with burnished iron. You can
see the kitchen through a large glass window; watch the magic as it happens. I
like it. We’re at the bar and Jess and Amber are off to the side, talking about
whatever it is they talk about, which always seems to keep them happy no matter
what it is. (I’m a little jealous of the friendships women have.)

“Josh, what’re you having?” David asks.

I ask him, “They have Guinness?” since I
know he’s been here before.

“They do. He’ll have a Guinness,” he
tells the bartender, early twenties, baby face bearded to help him look older.
It helps.

The guy catches me looking at him and
says, “Hey…I saw you at that showcase.”

I thought he looked familiar. “Oh,
right. How’s it going?”

He pours my Guinness the right way, nice
and slow, a dense foam layer on top. “You were great, man. It was like I was
taking a class just watching you. So
present
,
you know?” David looks at me, impressed.

“Thanks, man. I appreciate it.” I look
to Amber, but she didn’t hear him. Could I ask him to repeat it? Damn.

David pulls out his card. “This one’s on
me, then.” The guy takes it with a nod and a grin, goes to ring us up. “I’ve
never seen you act.”

“It’s no big deal,” I say.

He scoffs. “Modesty will get you nowhere
in your business. Cut that shit out right now. So, I bet Amber calls you in all
the time, huh? Kind of the perfect set-up.” He signs the bill and I shoot a
quick look to Amber, hoping she didn’t hear that.

She didn’t, but I catch the tail end of
Jess yelling, “Lady with a baby,” and think, what the fuck? Amber looks at me
and says, “She’s kidding. I’m not…”

I have no idea what just happened. What
are they talking about? When I’m sure she’s not listening, I tell David, “No,
it’s not like that. I don’t mooch off her.” We walk to the table with our girls
in front of us, purposefully distance them out of earshot.
 

He gives me a sideways glance. “You’ve
gotta be kidding me.”

“I’m not.”

“Is she working on anything right now?”

“Yeah. Amazing project,” I say, watching
the girls sit down, us four steps behind.

“So, what’s up? You don’t want in?” He
whispers.

 
“Doesn’t matter. Auditions are over. It’s
cast.”

“Too bad,” David says and drops it.

One more step, and I take my seat beside
her.

Now’s my moment. I announce, “Dinner is
on me, by the way.” Surprise all around, which kind of irks me.

“Yeah? Why is that?” David asks.

I pause for effect. Look to Amber, then
to our friends and BOOM: “Booked a national commercial!” Gasps. I grin and
high-five David across the table as Jess says I’m awesome.

I look to Amber and see the look I’ve
been hoping for: love, respect and pride. She throws her arms around me. “Oh my
God, baby. That’s so great!” she says and kisses me. I’m the happiest I’ve ever
been. Right here. Right now.

I grin, “Perfect timing, huh? It’s like
I got a gift from the gods for moving in with my girl.” I kiss her again,
stoked.

“Well done, Josh. On you, then! I’m
starving,” David says. “I want to order soon, if that’s okay with you guys.”

“Me too, so hungry,” Jess agrees. As her
attention goes to the menu, a smokin’ hot little number – brunette,
skimpy dress, legs all the way to China – walks by and smiles at us.
David checks her out; I pretend to look at the menu. She told us to ditch the
girls, with her eyes and body language. Women. I swear some of them get off
getting men other women have. Guys do it, too. But you can punch them. I’m glad
Amber didn’t see. I don’t want anything dampening the sex we’re going to have
later. As everyone talks about the menu - what we’re going to order, what wine
– I check out Amber’s thigh next to mine. I reach down to touch it, feel
the silky fabric of her dress covering it, all the time acting like I’m not
hard; like I’m not counting the minutes until I can get her home and take her
on the kitchen counter.
Home.
Our
home.

When David starts up with, “We had a lot
more fun unpacking than you guys are gonna have,” competitive guy that I am, I
can’t help but take the bait.

“We’re going to have more fun than you
guys had,” I say. If I had a sword, I’d pull it out.

His eyes narrow, “I doubt that you
could.”

I’m about to tell him exactly how I
will, when I’m interrupted. “Amber!”

I look up. Jake Fucking Lombardi is
standing above me – a Panther in a tree – and he’s looking at Amber
in a way I’m not okay with. Then he acts as if he didn’t see me, which I know
is a load of bull. “Josh! Holy crap! Hey buddy. How’s it hanging?”

I shift in my seat. He was always like
this in class, too. “Hanging to the left, man. Hanging to the left. Long time.
How the hell are ya?”

“I’m great, man, great. And wow, Amber.
You look amazing.”

The way Amber says “
thanks
,” slams it home. They’ve fucked. I can’t believe it, and I’m
about to stand up, but David sees my growing rage and sticks out his hand to
block me. “I’m David! Saw you in the play,
Menace
.
Good stuff,” he lies, throwing a warning look to me.

They shake hands. “Yeah? Thanks man. I’m
Jake.”

Jake, refusing to take a hint, looks
back to me and smirks, “So you and Amber, huh?” He’s not a Panther. I take it
back.
He’s a Rat.

Amber’s hand tightens around mine until
it hurts. She holds me steady. I answer him through clenched jaw, “Yep. You
still studying at Stella Adler? I haven’t seen you in class.”

He sneers like the idea is beneath him.
“Naw. Been working too much. Just learning on set now.”

Fuck you, Jake.

David shoots me a look, then with his
tone, tells Jake that he’s about to get a fist to the face if he doesn’t move
along, from
both
of us. “Well, we’ll
catch up with you later. We’re starving so…”

We all fall silent.

Jakes nods, “Right. Right. Well, have at
it, then. You all have a good night.” He walks away, but when he gets a
safe-distance from my fist, he calls back, “Amber baby! See you at the call
back!”

He can’t mean what I think he means.

He laughs, looks me square in the eyes
and says, “
Spike Jonze. Incredible. Can’t
wait.”
He turns around and scurries back into the sewer.

But it’s too late. Even a rat can take
down a Lion with the right tools. My heart drops to my balls, and crawls up
inside. I look at her, but she won’t look back. Stunned, I lock my stare onto
the cloth napkin, still folded nice in front of me on the table.

David covers with, “I don’t know about
you guys but, that guy’s a dick. Hey Josh, here’s to your commercial, man.
That’s amazing news.” Fuck. Why did I have to tell him the movie was cast? Now
he knows exactly what Jake got that I didn’t.

But I thank him, my voice stilted,
pained. I raise my glass and down my drink without stopping, take comfort in
the sting of whiskey heating up my dried throat. When we order, I do it from
another dimension, looking at Amber from the corner of my eyes, her silence
hurtful. All the excitement and happiness I felt is gone. Is this what a lie
can do? The food comes. Dessert turned down. Check paid - by me, thank you very
much.

The entire time, I’m in obsession,
Jake’s sneering rat-face huge in my mind. He’s auditioning for the film. Amber
lied. She fucked him. He made sure I knew. So, this
isn’t
about crossing professional with personal …
this is about
me
. She doesn’t think I can do it. She thinks I suck, that I don’t
have it.

I come close to throwing my dinner up in
front of everyone. I feel the acid sneak up the back of my throat and shove it
back down with water and dignity. I can’t look at her. I don’t want to see how
much she must loathe my ambition; mediocrity pursuing an impossible dream.
Self-doubt slithers around my head.

After we say goodbye to David and Jess,
when I’m alone with her, the girlfriend I thought was perfect, I stare at the
pedestal pieces shattered around her feet. “I’m tired. Think I’m going to sleep
at my place tonight. You know… say goodbye to the place.”

She doesn’t try to touch me, or make me
feel better, which I’m glad for but also makes me feel worse. Instead she says,
“Oh. Okay. Yeah, if that’s what you want.” Nothing else.

Say you’re
sorry, Amber. Say you’re sorry, and you didn’t mean to crush my love for you.
I stare at
a blackened spot of year-old flattened gum, steadying myself against the anger.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” I don’t know if I’ll be there.

“I hope so,” she says.

If she can lie, then so can I. “I’ll be
there. Don’t worry,” I say, and get in the first cab I see.

“Where to?” the cabbie asks as I close
the door.

“Just drive, please. I don’t know yet.”

He doesn’t object, but I do get the once
over, from the rearview. They’ve perfected judgment to an art form, these guys.
I’m sure I’m not the only broken man he’s ever seen. I look out the window. I
can’t go home yet. I know that much. These racing thoughts would be the death
of me if I did that. We make it only a block; turn one corner, before I say,
“Stop here. Sorry. Stop here.”

“You got it,” he says and pulls over in
front of a bar. I pay him, get out and go in. It’s dark, like I need it to be.
Crowded, too, which is perfect because I drown in the noise. I push through
strangers to get to the bar. Sitting down at the counter I order Bookers, neat.
No ice to dilute it. I need whiskey. Several. Maybe the whole bottle to myself.
I shoot it. Ask for another.
This
bartender
doesn’t recognize me from a showcase. He sure as shit doesn’t recognize me from
a show, because unlike Jake, I’m not working on TV shows and I wasn’t in that
film at Sundance that won that award. Fucking Jake. I order another.

Thanks,” I say, when he sets them down
without questioning. Big tip coming.

“You wanna buy me one, while you’re at
it?” a smooth feminine voice beside me, asks.

I look to my left and see a smokin’-hot
brunette on the seat beside me, who looks familiar. I squint at her trying to
place it. “Hey, I just saw you at the restaurant.”

A smile plays on her red lips. “Yes, you
did.”

“Nice dress.”

“You like it?”

“Who wouldn’t?” I laugh and burp.

She smiles and shakes her head. “I’ll
take that as a compliment, I guess.”

I narrow my eyes, try hard not to look
at her chest. “Why are you here?”

“Why are
you
here?” she throws back.

“I’m here to get drunk.” I take a deep
drink.

She watches me and chuckles, takes a
languid sip of her red wine, pushing out her cleavage so I can get a better
look. Maybe I imagined that. She says, “So your blonde didn’t work out. Bad
date, too?”

“She’s my girlfriend. And I love her
blonde hair, so don’t say it like that.” I look at the mass of bottles on the
backbar in front of me, thinking,
I can
take ‘em all.

Her eyebrows go up. “Really? Your
girlfriend, huh…Then why are you here?”

I smirk, motion for another, answer,
“Why are
you
here.”

“Nice,” she smiles. “I’m here because my
date turned out to be a jerk.”

“Yeah? Who was your date?”

“Jake Lombardi.” She raises her glass
and takes another languid sip, her thigh now exposed and pointed toward me.

I cock my head to her, frown, “You were
there with Jake Lombardi?”

She waves her hand and says, “He’s not
that a big a celebrity. Don’t be impressed.”

I snort. “Fuck that. I know him from
class.”

“You know him?” she asks.

“Yeah. I know him. What’d he do on your
date? This I gotta hear.”

“He talked only about himself and his
career, which was exciting for less than a minute. Then he talked about the
menu like he could cook it better than the chef himself. He even
said
that when the food arrived. Then he
asked me, ‘How’d you like to say you fucked Jake Lombardi?’”

“He didn’t.”

“Oh yes, he did.”

I laugh despite myself. It’s a good line.

She smiles and points a pretty finger at
me, “The only reason I didn’t walk out on him was because my best girlfriend
hooked us up and I didn’t want to embarrass her.”

“She hooked you up with that Rat? Not a
very good friend,” I scoff. The bartender drops my next Bookers and leaves. I
look at it…take a break for a second.