“Oh,” I remark, picking up my glass. I drink and listen as he talks about this movie for some indie director that he thinks could lead to an Oscar nomination for him. My mind wanders, remembering this is why I always got along with musicians better—they are less talk and more action.
My hand is grabbed and I look up at him. He says, “Okay?”
“What?” I ask, surprised. Busted for not listening. Oops.
His brow is furrowed as he pleads, “When she gets here, pretend to be my girlfriend. Okay?”
I realize I had not heard whatever led up to this question and thinking he realizes it too because he says, “This chick, she’s all over me all the time. She’ll come over here in a minute. Pretend to be my girlfriend. I’ve been trying to shake her for months.”
I feel bad for not paying attention and readily agree. “Oh. Sure. Okay.”
When he looks over my shoulder, he says, “She’s coming.” I start to look back, but he stops me. “Don’t look! Keep your eyes on me.”
“Chad, darling,” I hear over my right shoulder. “I didn’t know you were still in town. I would have called.”
Looking up, I recognize her as a popular LA socialite who lives to make tabloid headlines and not much else. He stands to greet her, effectively pulling me up with him. They European kiss—one on each cheek. She lingers and he tugs me closer. As she backs up, he wraps his arm around my waist and kisses me on the cheek. “Have you met Rochelle Floros?”
His arm snuggling me close doesn’t seem to faze her. Like Dex, maybe he just has a whole slew of fuck buddies. She replies, “I don’t believe I have, but I’ve spent a lot of time in New York and Miami recently. I’m Dotty Greensberg.”
Dotty Greensberg?
I stifle a laugh and offer a hand instead. “Nice to meet you.”
“Rochelle is my girlfriend,” Chad states confidently.
I remain quiet, trying to channel the fake girlfriend role I’ve been asked to play.
“Girlfriend?” she asks as if the word is foreign to her, a glare directed at him. “So this is a new relationship?”
“Yes,” he replies. “Well, it was good to see you, Dotty.”
The waiter walks up with our plates.
She gives her best smile trying to hide her heartbreak. It’s obvious she likes him, but I’ve learned that it takes two or someone always gets screwed. “Yes, I should go. I’m meeting my agent at the bar.”
Chad releases me and I sit down, the charade almost over. They polite kiss each other goodbye and he sits down smiling. Putting his napkin back in his lap, he says, “I think that went well.”
“Yeah, seemed like she believed you.” Believe. Believe. Charades… Dex. I drop my fork.
Chad asks, “What is it? Your salad?”
Was I set up? Dex wants me to believe he slept with Firenza. Maybe he didn’t… or maybe he did. If he didn’t, why would he want me to believe a lie? He tried to say something, but I cut him off.
“Rochelle?”
I look back up at Chad.
He says, “You keep disappearing. Am I that boring?”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “I just have a lot on my mind. I’m sorry.” Trying to keep my mind from reeling in conspiracy theories, I attempt to keep my attention on Chad.
“No problem. So how’s the band business?”
We fall into light conversation, easier than I expected it to be with him. But after spending time with him one-on-one, I have a feeling he doesn’t do deep conversation. He loves to talk fashion and gossip. I listen most of the time, not able to add too much to either of those topics. After we eat, I call it a day wanting to go home and think about things.
While waiting for our cars at the valet out front, I say, “Thank you for the meal and drinks.”
“Thank you for joining me. So I mentioned I’m leaving soon, next week in fact, but I have this party to go to on Sunday. Would you like to go with me?”
“Oh…
like on a date
?”
“Yeah,” he says, smiling. “Kind of like what we just went on.”
My head goes back. “Was this a date?”
“Was it not?”
My embarrassment is felt through the heat of my cheeks. “I’m sorry. Yes, of course. I just thought of it as more friends hanging out when you asked me.”
“I know you have a lot going on with the band and you know, your other things—”
“My kids?” I fill in the ‘other things’ for him.
“Yeah, your kids. But I like you—”
“
But
you like me? You mean in spite of my kids?”
“You’ll have to give me time. I’ve not dated anyone with kids before.”
I try to end his failed attempt to explain things as the hole he’s digging gets deeper. “Chad, I think we both can see there’s no romantic chemistry between us. I know about your history with Dex and I don’t know if that played into why you asked me here today, but let’s just stay friends. I had fun. We don’t need to ruin it with starting something that’s obviously not gonna work for either of us.”
He’s not sad. He’s not relieved. But he’s grateful. “I would have slept with you, you know.”
I laugh. “Geez, I appreciate it, but I’m all good in that department.”
My car arrives first. “Thank you again.” I smile as I walk away. “Break a leg on that new project.”
With a nod, he says, “Thanks.”
And that was the beginning and end of my relationship with Chad Spears. As soon as Dex came to mind, the date was already over in my mind. So now I need to figure out what the deal is with him and why I’m holding on so tight to the possibility. He’s only caused me heartache, but deep down, way deep down, he might be worth the pain.
I fly to Miami on a Monday. After a week of meetings, packing, and work, I leave my boys in the care of Janice and take off for Florida. On the plane I go over the files one more time, making sure I can answer any questions the guys might have regarding the deals. The flight is a little turbulent and sickens my stomach. While cleaning up in the bathroom, I look in the mirror. My hands are shaking and I’m a little pale. I should have gotten a prescription, but deep down I know I’m not just upset from the flight.
I’ve lost a lot of sleep the last few nights. I had nine days and seemed to have squandered them away, not feeling any less hurt than I did then. Screw Dex. I don’t owe him anything and he owes me nothing. We are back to being completely platonic. Just how we should have stayed all along.
I flash my pass and go backstage, finding Tommy near the backup amps on stage left. Hugging him, we don’t bother talking, since the band is performing, and neither of us wants to shout.
The set change and break happens after this song. As soon as it ends, the band hurries off stage, knowing they have ten minutes to do whatever they need to do—whether it’s use the bathroom, get a drink, or make a phone call. They run down the stairs that are near us. Each one of them smiles at me as they pass, except for Dex who eyes me but keeps walking. We follow them into the dressing room, Tommy shutting the door behind. Like a coach, he goes over what’s working and what didn’t, including one of Johnny’s guitars that broke a string while he was playing.
I try to give Dex his space by standing across the room. As much as I kind of want to reach out to him, I don’t. I’m conflicted over this whole mess we’ve found ourselves in and burned he picked someone else up so soon after our fight
. Am I being unreasonable?
I don’t even know. I’m a girl and sometimes reason takes a backseat to feelings. Sucks, but I’m not unique this way.
Without my eyes leaving my feet, I feel the weight of his gaze on me, a stare that caresses my curves, reminding me of where his hands once were. When I dare look over, the warmth I’m so used to seeing has left… what is there, I’m unfamiliar with, so I turn away.
“When’s the meeting?” Johnny asks me after he finishes drinking his water.
“Lunch tomorrow. My suite.”
He nods. “Let’s go.” They all stand up and Tommy opens the door.
Just as Dex passes, he whispers without looking, “Thanks for the clothes.”
“You’re welcome.”
I don’t get any visitors tonight, stuck in my room alone. I chose not to go out with Kaz and Derrick. Tommy called it a night and went to bed as soon as we got back. Johnny was meeting friends for a late dinner and Dex disappeared. I have no idea what happened to him and I try not to spend my night guessing either. That could lead to disastrous thoughts of groupies and drugs. I’m not ready to go there right now, so I turn my attention to the fact that he’s made a huge impact on my life in such a short amount of time. When he spent time with Neil after the funeral. The way he ‘fixed’ CJ’s boo boo. When he looks at me like he can’t bear to lose me. All of these memories are little Band-aids on my heart. I sigh.
I just can’t seem to stop thinking about him despite my better judgment. I was unsuspecting, but not blind and yet, it feels like this man I’ve known forever came out of nowhere and swept me off my feet.
Maybe I’m being ridiculous or maybe he’s made a bigger mark on my heart than I originally thought.
How much pain can one heart bear? Am I willing to take another beating? Is Dex worth it?
The mystery that he’s laid out before me makes me wonder what he’s up to, which is driving me bizonkers.
Why can’t I just get clear-cut answers? Why must it all be a guessing game when it comes to him? Why is he lying to me? Or is he telling the truth?
I turn on the TV and fall asleep after watching three Friends episodes in a row.
The next morning, I head downstairs to the coffee stand in the lobby. I’m waiting behind three other people desperately in need of caffeine like me. The one at the front can’t seem to figure out their cup sizes, so the barista is going through explaining and taking way too long to do so. I check my phone for the fourth time since I have the meeting in less than thirty minutes and at the snail’s rate of this line, I might not get my coffee. That doesn’t bode well for anybody.
“Can I buy you a cup of Joe?”
I recognize the smooth voice before I see him. Turning around, I say, “Make it a latte and you’ve got yourself a deal.”
Dex doesn’t smile, but he doesn’t look unhappy to see me either. “You always liked your lattes. Mocha as usual?”
“Yep.” I find myself swaying between my anger from his actions and the traitorous side of me that wants to take his side and let him back in, just a little bit.