Rock My World (3 page)

He regretted the way they got married, and even
worse, his proposal—or lack thereof.
 
He hadn’t been the best boyfriend (for which Jenna was all too
forgiving) but he could have at least given her a proper proposal. Instead,
while their parents sat them down, deciding what to do with them and their
compromised futures, Alex blurted out, “We’re getting married!” It had the
desired effect: shutting their parents up. But Jenna didn’t say a word. She
looked down, hands on her stomach, silent.

When everyone finally settled down and came to
terms with their impending parenthood, they went to the courthouse and signed
the papers. That was it. All it took to become man and wife. It was quite
possibly the least romantic proposal and wedding of all time, despite being on
Valentine’s Day.

That’s why tonight was so important to him. He
could finally give her the proposal she deserved, having realized the success
they’d both worked so hard for. He intended to make up for everything he hadn’t
been able to give her all these years and get that sad image of her with her
hands on her belly to stop haunting him.

***

Jenna strolled along the newly cobbled courtyard,
its equidistant palm trees strewn with fairy lights. Lampposts draped with
hanging flowers lent a vaguely European feel to the outdoor mall. She loved
shopping for so many reasons, but her favorite thing was looking at window
displays. Perfect mannequins dressed for every occasion transported her to
alternate realities: a romantic gondola ride through Venice; a group of four
best friends out for a fashion forward night at the trendiest hotspot you’ve
never heard of; a single woman of eccentric yet chic taste, clearly in control
of everything in her life. Each window promised that anyone could become an
entirely new person if they only dressed the part.

The way the monochromatic whites played off the
textures of colorful displays and bold accessories stirred in her a longing to
be this store. In her next Zen meditation session, this would be her happy
place, she thought as she perused rack after rack of bizarre accessories.
 
On their own, they could look gaudy or
garish, but paired just so, they evoked an image of a woman whose confidence
allowed her to play with fashion, utterly unconcerned with labels and seasons
of acceptability. She could be anywhere in the world, equally happy on her own
or with a lover or friend. Jenna wished she could be her.

“May I help you?” a teenage salesgirl asked. Jenna
smiled, reflexively about to refuse.
 
Instead, she found herself saying, “This store is incredible! Do you
sell shoes too?”

The young sales girl, glancing from head to toe at
Jenna’s haute couture ensemble, raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“Yes, the shoes are in that corner back there,”
she said pointing to the other side of the store. “Let me know if you need help
with sizes.”

“Thanks! You know … I’m not crazy. I just don’t
get out much.” She said, feeling ridiculous to be swooning like a crazed
love-struck schoolgirl.

She found the perfect pair of kitten heels to go
with the dress she’d picked out; a large multi-stoned jeweled bangle to go with
an almost-but-not-quite-matching pair of earrings; a too warm but amazing pea
coat; and finally, a tiered chiffon dress perfect or Felicity. The way the
fraying mismatched fabrics fell together into a soft silhouette seemed perfect
for her daughter, who was anything but a “girly girl.” Felicity hated when
Jenna bought her clothes, claiming that she was trying to “impose an antiquated
anti-feminist ideal” onto her. Those were her actual words. Where that
vocabulary came from, Jenna would never know. Never mind.
She would look amazing in this dress!
Jenna thought as the
salesgirl rung it up, folding it neatly into sheets of ivory tissue paper.

Outside the store, the velvety blue sky warmed her
skin, which tingled with excitement at the mere thought that the day (and
night) could get any better. A text from
Airika
ripped her from her reverie. “Beta Sushi, 10
mins
.”
It read.
Uh-oh, what happened now
,
Jenna worried.

Chapter 4

Twelve minutes later, Jenna pulled into the
forgotten strip mall now occupied by the nondescript offices of an accountant,
a travel agency and a second-hand sports equipment store.
 
Beta Sushi was the only restaurant, and
from the outside looked as though the health department should have shut it
down long ago. It was dark and dingy and they served the best sushi in town.
And it provided an anonymous low-light environment to bitch about major
problems in the middle of the day. No self-respecting socialite, celebrity or
professional would ever come here.

Jenna grabbed their booth at the back, tossed her
packages on the seat next to her and waited, ordering their usual starter: sake
and a rainbow roll. Ten minutes later
Airika
whirled
in, layered straight blonde hair trailing her like a lightning bolt.

“Oh. My. God. You are never going to believe the
morning I’ve had!”
Airika
said, plopping down across
from her, taking a shot of sake. Jenna pushed half the rainbow roll across the
table and waited.
Airika
ignored the food and
launched straight in.

“So, I had a fitting with Martine for this
afternoon, right? Huge, huge star
who
is going to win,
like, all the Grammys and wear the clothes to every important after-party? So
I’m getting ready when I get an email from my dad’s lawyer saying
he’s being sued by my client
.
 
‘Fine,’ I say, ‘why is that any of my
business?’ He informs me that Martine’s mom is suing him for malpractice!
Uaargh
!! And now she’s going to ask me about it when I see
her and I don’t know what I’m supposed to tell her. Can you believe it? He’s
fucking up my career from 3,000 miles away! Who needs plastic surgery in
Florida anyway? Who are they trying to impress, the Grim Reaper?”

With pitiable timing, the waiter appeared at the
table.
Airika
glared at him. Jenna took pity and
waved to the empty sake, indicating another round. He nodded and escaped
without a word.

“Oh no,” Jenna said, finishing off her half of
rainbow roll.
Airika
fumed across the table and Jenna
raised her eyebrows questioningly.
Airika
nodded in
an as-if-I-can-eat-anything-at-a-time-like-this way before shoving the
untouched plate across to Jenna, pouring the rest of the sake for herself.
Jenna carefully navigated the minefield of
Airika’s
emotional state. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m
gonna
throw him under
the bus, if she asks. She’s been better to me than he ever was. But I’m sure as
hell not going to bring it up if she doesn’t. This is why I changed my name in
the first place.”

When
Airika
was still
Erica, her father, plastic surgeon to the stars, kept his family living in
luxury. They lived in the most exclusive Malibu neighborhoods, updated their
Porsches annually, vacationed at St.
Barths
, and
enjoyed all the perks of stardom, albeit behind the scenes.
 
In an unfortunate drunken moment, he
once bragged to a hot young starlet he was lusting after the name of an A-list
celebrity he worked on, hoping to impress her enough to sleep with him.
 
Not only didn’t it work out for him that
night,
but
once word of his “indiscretion” got out,
she, along with the entire female population of Los Angeles, ran him out of
town.

Erica’s mother, forced to downsize her life,
reverted to her maiden name, Thomas.
 
Erica took it a step further, re-spelling her first name too. The
philandering husband wasn’t exactly a shame-worthy story, but sabotaging a
celebrity career for a hot lay was an unthinkable character flaw, obviously
extending to his spouse as well. The socialites excommunicated her, shaming her
into hiding. It was like something out of an Austen novel, with prettier people
and
uglier
language. She never recovered. Though her
parents remained married (he was still loaded, after all) they never saw each
other again. The only contact she and her brother Zach had
was
an obligatory visit once a year during Christmas break.

“Maybe she won’t know he’s your dad? Then you
don’t have to throw anyone under the bus,” Jenna said.
Airika’s
mouth tightened. Jenna hurried to placate her friend. “Or maybe you can ask your
dad to apologize?”

Airika
rolled her eyes.

Jenna sighed and said, “Last time you fought with
your dad he blocked your trust fund. For six months. Do you really want to do
that again?”

“What? How can you, of all people, say that? It’s
my money, not charity! I’ve been supporting myself since I was seventeen,
unlike some people.”

“That’s not what I…Sorry I said anything.” Jenna
said, throwing up her hands in surrender and blushing at the pointed critique.

The waiter took advantage of the silence between
them to bring their sake and quickly scampered off. Jenna poured some for
Airika
, who pouted but drank it.

“And what about Cannes? Alex told me that was a
huge success for you.” Jenna said to change the subject.

“It was,”
Airika
softened and told her all about her clients being on
best-dressed
lists and who was secretly dating whom and how her calendar was now booked
through the rest of the year. She even took a bite off Jenna’s plate, relaxing
into a gossipy escape.

“And how about your love life?
Anyone
new on tour?
Simon?” Jenna asked, playful once again.
Airika
had never been in a relationship, preferring a long
string of one-night stands. Jenna wished she’d find someone who could change
her
mind,
sure that it would soften the hardened edges
of her personality.

Simon was Alex’s manager and a little gruff on the
outside, but
a loyal teddy bear
on the inside. He was
as ambitious as
Airika
and came from a similar
background, albeit the British version. Jenna knew he wasn’t as handsome as
Airika
liked her men, but cute in his own way and she
suspected
Airika
wouldn’t mind being the prettier
half of the relationship.

Excitement flickered across
Airika’s
face momentarily, giving way to a bored shaking of her head.
 

“I wish you’d just open yourself up to the idea of
it. You could be so happy. I know it.” Jenna said.

“You just don’t get it, Jenna. I don’t want a
relationship. I don’t need a man like you do. And not everyone’s life is a
fairytale. Stop throwing it in my face,”
Airika
said,
getting up from the table, a blur of blonde fleeing the dark room.

Jenna sighed, wishing she hadn’t said anything and
paid the check before she left. She’d have to wait until tomorrow night to let
Airika
cool down. She’d always been
hot-headed
but that seemed excessive, even for her.

Jenna wondered what it would be like if
Airika
could just meet the right guy. Someone she actually
cared about and wanted to plan a life with. Someone like Simon would be good
for her. Of course, she probably wouldn’t give him a chance because dating him
wouldn’t carry any cache. But maybe, if she just let herself, she’d discover
what a lovable person she was through his eyes.

Before her dad left, Jenna thought
Airika
had a crush on one of Zach’s friends. She never
found out whom, but she saw a softer side during that time, proving to Jenna it
was possible. Unfortunately, that person making a comeback was probably less
likely than Felicity wearing the dress Jenna just bought for her.

Nothing could be gained by worrying about it now.
Jenna, determined not to lose her pre-anniversary high, headed for her next
fix: the farmer’s market. Cooking provided her a daily escape.

That first scent of olive oil and garlic in a pan
soothed her mind while whetting her appetite. She chose vegetables in
contrasting colors—carrots, bell peppers, spinach,
onion
—
to aesthetically satisfy her palette. She finished off with the earthy smell of
freshly baked
ciabatta
, warm and soft in the center
but still crunchy outside. She relished the challenge of timing it so the
smells and textures drew the family in from whatever they were doing, sitting
down to eat around the same table. It tricked her wheel-spinning brain into
relaxing into the rhythm of the water boiling on the stove. She felt better already.

An hour later, she carefully balanced wine in one
hand, an over-stuffed cloth bag weighed down by groceries in the other, and
locked the car while struggling to find her house key. She pushed the door open
with her hip, backing into her beloved living room. Then she turned around. Her
world, like her fresh-from-the-farm groceries, fell to the floor and shattered,
there, in that very instant.

Chapter 5