L.A. Fire (19 page)

  “Good morning, Julian,” she said,
a slight smirk on her face. “I see you’ve been keeping busy since I saw you
last.”

  I felt the color drain from my
face, and I stepped away from Julian.  Feeling utterly exposed, I tugged
down the hem of my t-shirt, and stared back at this stranger in shock and confusion.

  “Who are you?” I asked. Before
she could answer my question, recognition dawned on me. She was Megan Woods.
The
Megan Woods. Starring actress in several Hollywood blockbusters.  

  She studied me carefully, and I
felt a flicker of unease cross my face. My stomach clenched sickeningly, and I
almost didn’t want to hear the answer to her question. “I’m Julian’s ex,” she
said. “As of two weeks ago.” Her stare continued to be calm and steady. But her
expression was slightly icy, and then a sardonic smile appeared on her face. “I
see he’s moved on quickly.”

  I felt a sudden surge of rage rip
through me. I turned to Julian, my stomach still clenching, my chest
constricting so tightly it was hard to breathe. “Julian?” I said, my voice
strangled. I felt a scream start to rise in my throat, but I stamped it down,
and fisted the hem of my t-shirt.

  I could still feel the weight of
Megan’s eyes on me. “Waffles,” she said, her tone deceivingly light. “Julian’s post-morning-fuck
delight. You have to hand it to the man, he’s talented both in bed and in the
kitchen. But hold on tight, sweetheart, ‘cause it won’t last.”

  “Megan,” Julian said, his voice
stern. But I looked at him closely and saw that his expression was pained and
wounded. My chest tightened in knots. There was also a trace of longing in his
eyes. It was unmistakable. He wasn’t over this woman. He obviously still had
feelings for her.

  Megan held up her hand, bidding
Julian to stop speaking. “Whatever you’re about to say, I don’t want to hear
it. I’ve had enough of your smooth talking for a lifetime.”

  Again, her words felt like knives
stabbing me in the gut.

  Her eyes swept past me again to
Julian, and an indecipherable look passed between them. “I’ve just come for my
things,” she said matter-of-factly. “I’ll be up in the bedroom packing.”

  As soon as she left the room, I
turned on Julian. “What the fuck was that?” I screamed, unable to contain
myself any longer. He stepped toward me, tried to grab me and pull me to him,
but I pushed him away, hard, and put as much distance between us as possible. I
felt my legs trembling, and was scared they might give out, but I held my
ground.

  “Sarah, it’s nothing,” he said.
“She’s an ex. It’s over.”

  I let out a harsh laugh. “Right,”
I said, “but she still has a key to your house, and her things are still up in
your bedroom. When were you going to tell me about this?”

  Julian’s eyes became hard, deadly
serious. “Sarah, there’s nothing to tell. Like I said, it’s over.” He moved
toward me, but I quickly swept to the other side of the island. I was so angry,
I wanted to throw something. “Why don’t we sit down and talk about this over
breakfast?” he said. His tone was controlled, but his eyes were pleading.

  I looked at him in disbelief.
“You want to get all domestic with me, while your ex is upstairs in your
bedroom, packing her things?

  “Sarah,” he said sternly. “I’m
not with her. I’m with you. Like I said, it’s over between us.”

  I felt my chest heave, and knew
I’d be sobbing uncontrollably in a minute. I gripped the edge of the island
hard, digging my fingers into it, willing myself not to cry. Julian came up
behind me, and wrapped his arms around my waist. “Baby, please,” he whispered
in my ear. “Let’s eat and talk this over.”

  I spun on him, rage again blazing
through me. “You talked all night about trust, and wanting me to be only yours.
You wanted to know all about my ex. And whether I had any feelings for that
writer guy. Everything about my past, you wanted on the table. Yet, you,” I
said, my voice cracking, “didn’t even have the decency to tell me about
something as big as this.”

  “It’s over,” he repeated, looking
exasperated. “How many times do I need to tell you that?”

  “As many times as it takes for me
to believe it. As many times as it takes for it to no longer be a lie” I said,
my voice trembling. “I saw that look of yearning you shot her when she walked
in. It doesn’t matter what you say, Julian. You’re not over her. Not by a long
shot.”

  I heard footsteps on the stairs
again, and then Megan was once again at the entrance of the kitchen. She shot
Julian another pointed look, then walked over to the island and placed a key on
the counter. “This is yours,” she said. Then, holding up a duffel bag, she
said, “And I have all my things. Goodbye, Julian,” she said, walking over and
placing a peck on his cheek. It left a smudge of lipstick on his skin.

  Julian let out a long sigh. “Take
care, Megan.”

  She nodded almost imperceptibly,
then turned her focus fully on me. “Good luck,” she said. “You’re going to need
it. No one ever lasts too long with him.” Then she spun around, and walked back
the way she came. I stood there frozen, listening to the click of her heels,
and then the slamming of the front door.

  “Sarah,” Julian said earnestly. I
shook my head, and walked away. Then, I spun on his again. Anger and was
pulsing through me so hard, I was literally in pain.

  “Why? Julian? Why? Why would you
toy with me like that? I told you I was ready to have sex with you, no strings
attached. Why did you have to bring my emotions into it? Probe into all of my vulnerabilities?
Is this some kind of game to you? You enjoy fucking with people, is that it?”

  Julian’s face clouded over, and
his eyes looked pained. “Sarah,” he said, his voice low, “I’m not fucking with
you.” He turned toward the island, and picked up the key. “Here,” he said,
holding it out to me. “This is how serious I am about you.”

  I pushed his hand away, and let
out another harsh laugh. “What is this, the revolving door to Julian’s beach
house? Her fucking fingerprints are still on it, that’s how fresh this break up
is. And her fucking lipstick is smeared across your cheek.”

  I shuddered. My chest started
contracting painfully again, and the tears welled up in my eyes. “I can’t do
this again,” I said. “I can’t let myself be hurt again. This is done, Julian.”

  “No it isn’t,” he said, sternly,
this time taking a swift step toward me and grabbing me by the waist. “I’m mad
about you, and I won’t let you break this off.”

  I shot him the frostiest look I
could manage. “I get it. I need to be all yours, but you can sleep with
whomever you want.”

  “It’s not like that,” he hissed.
“We need to talk this over, Sarah. You need to give me a chance to explain.”

  It suddenly occurred to me to
look at my watch. It was nine o’clock. I had half an hour to get to work. “Damn
it,” I said. “On top of everything else, I’m going to be late again.”

  Julian frowned. “I’ll drive you
home. I’ll get you a coffee at the Starbucks down the street from you while you
change, and then I’ll drive you to work.”

  I shook my head, and pushed him
away. “No,” I said firmly. “I’m taking a cab home, and then I’m driving myself
to work.”

  “Sarah,” he said, his eyes
flashing with anger. “You’re being unreasonable.”

  “Well, it’s not your fucking
problem anymore,” I said, running out of the room to get my dress, and call a
cab.

  Julian finally let me go. Once I
was seated in the cab, something in me broke. All the pain, confusion,
betrayal, and embarrassment, rose to the surface all at once, and it was too
much to contain. My chest started heaving uncontrollably, and the tears
streamed down my face. I’d made myself so vulnerable, so quickly, because I
thought I’d found something infinitely special. Instead, I’d opened my heart up
to a player, and this was the price I had to pay. I’d have to learn never to
make the same mistake again.

***

  Somehow, I managed to burst
through the doors of Cooper McGregor at 9:45 that morning. I hadn’t had my
coffee yet, and still felt like a total wreck, but I had to keep it together.
My job depended on it. I flashed Annabel the brightest smile I could muster,
and then made my way discreetly to my desk. I quickly settled in, and almost
immediately, the phone rang. I answered.

  “Sarah. Come to my office
please.” It was Paul. And though his tone was even, it was also a bit stern. As
I rose to my feet, I looked down at my shoes. I felt the blood drain from my
face. I’d somehow managed to mismatch them. Both were black pumps, but one was
suede, and other was leather. I was wearing a sleeveless white shirt with black
capris, which called attention to my feet. There was no way I’d get through the
day without anyone noticing.

   I peeked my head into
Paul’s office, and he motioned for me to come in and sit down. His perceptive
eyes went straight to my feet, and he frowned slightly. I quickly took a seat,
hiding my shoes from view.

  “You were late,” he said
matter-of-factly. “That’s twice.”

  I suddenly felt flustered, and
adjusted myself in my seat. “I’m so sorry. I got caught in traffic again,” I
lied.

  He leaned back in his chair and
let out a long sigh. “Please, just try to be on time, okay? It’s only fifteen
minutes, and you often stay late so that more than makes up for it, but I don’t
want other workers to think I’m making allowances for you. Understood?”

  I nodded, then looked at him
expectantly. “Is that all?” I asked.

  He took his pen in his hand, and
started tapping it against the desk. Then his eyes flicked sharply to mine.
“No,” he said. “That’s not all. There’s something else I’m entirely more
concerned about.”

  My stomach twisted uncomfortably,
and my pulse picked up. Paul stared at me intently with a look of deep unease
on his face, and a moment later, I felt myself break into a cold sweat.

“Please tell me,” I said, my voice
sounding small.

  “It’s Julian,” he said, studying
me closely for a reaction. “There are some paparazzi shots circulating of the
two of you at lunch, and then again at dinner last night.”

  I felt my throat get tight, and I
tried to discreetly wipe my hands off on my capris.

  “In a way, it’s not my place to
interfere. You don’t of course, work for him so there’s no direct conflict of
interest, but I don’t want any unnecessary tension around the office. And with
Julian’s history, there’s likely to be some.”

  I swallowed quickly, trying to
force down the lump in my throat. “History?” I asked, my voice coming out
high-pitched.

  Paul’s brow furrowed, and he
nodded almost imperceptibly. “Yes,” he began. “Julian has been known to be a
bit of a ladies’ man. He seemed to have settled down with Megan Fox for a
while, but that recently ended badly, and I still don’t think he’s over it.”

  I suddenly felt extremely
uncomfortable. Here I was, talking to my boss about my love life. How much more
awkward could it get? “So you’re saying he’s on the rebound.”

  “It would seem so, yes,” Paul
said.

  Paul had just confirmed my worst suspicions.
And I didn’t have to take his word for it. I’d seen with my own eyes the way
Julian looked at Megan this morning. I felt hollow, numb. And I needed to get
out of Paul’s office, out of this conversation, and back to my desk where I
could bury myself in my work.

  “Thanks for the warning,” I said.
“Is there anything else?” I added before getting up.

  He shook his head, and gave me a
mild, concerned look. “Just take care.”

***