Chapter Fifteen
Sawyer waited the next day with Liann in her penthouse for the contract to be delivered. He’d dictated everything last night then slept on his new couch in their office.
Liann said, “When it comes, we’ll sign it? Don’t we need Justine here?”
“No, either one of us can sign. Then I’ll have to take it to Daniel and get him to approve the final contract.”
“I see. So, where is your girl at this morning, honey? Sleeping in?”
“She’s not my girl, Liann.” He couldn’t muster more than a monotone reply. He couldn’t even place the feeling; he’d never been cut off from anyone before. He didn’t make connections, and now he knew why.
“We’ve already gone through this routine. You should do the both of you a favor and stop denying the obvious.”
“She kicked me out of her apartment. She’s not mine.”
Liann plopped down on the couch and gave him a remorseful look. “I’m such a jackass. I’m sorry, honey.”
“It’s not a big deal, don’t sweat it.”
The contracts arrived not long after, but Liann’s urge to chat had died there. They signed, and he headed into the office to see the son-of-a-bitch he worked for.
Daniel’s secretary greeted him with a big smile. “You’re back! Where’s Justine?”
“I have no idea. Is he in?”
She announced him, and Daniel took him right in. Sawyer laid the contract out on Daniel’s desk in silence and sat down across from him.
“What is this?” Daniel asked.
“A contract for the other host. We stayed within budget, which was a gift since she’s huge. I need your signature to make it official.”
“Liann Linell? Jesus, Sawyer. Do you have any idea what you’ve done? How the hell did you pull this off?”
“Justine pulled it off. I just watched. It was a lot like watching a near miss car crash, but she did it.”
Daniel sat down with a thud. “I’m not signing this.”
Sawyer leaned back to look at him. “Why not? Nothing out of the ordinary.”
“I could give you a hundred reasons. To start with, Liann is a drunk, and there are reasons no one will hire her. Because she’s not right for the original concept you pitched to me. Because—”
Sawyer laughed, and Daniel stopped mid-sentence, sending him a warning look. Sawyer pressed on. “Because you made a bet with your daughter and you’re afraid she might win.”
“She told you about our agreement. She certainly has come to trust you.” Daniel considered him for a moment before nodding. “Fine, then. This woman isn’t going to help Justine prove herself. She has ulterior motives which will only hurt my daughter.”
“Justine played by your rules. You don’t sign; she could walk away right now.” He had no idea if this was true but it seemed logical.
Daniel gave him a hard look. “Whose side are you playing on, Sawyer?”
“I’m on the side I’m always on, mine.” And right now, his side included being with Justine. He’d show her how he felt. Not with flowers or poetry, that wasn’t their style. He’d show her with a done deal. Lay it at her feet and hope it touched her heart.
“She’ll walk away, and it’ll be because I didn’t play by the rules. What a mess she’s made. And if I refuse, I’ve betrayed her trust.”
Sawyer nodded, again with no more than a hunch. He no longer believed himself qualified to predict her behavior. As if anyone could ever predict her loony tangents.
Daniel signed the contract with a curse. Sawyer left without another word, made a copy, stuffed it in his jacket, and handed the original to Veronica. “File, copy, whatever needs to be done. I’m going out.”
She gave him a look but didn’t speak.
Signed contract in his pocket, he drove to Justine’s apartment, parking with a screeching halt a block away. Rain drizzled around him.
He knocked on her door and leaned on the door jamb.
Justine opened the door and looked at him. “You’re soaked.”
“I hadn’t noticed.” He took her in, hair piled up with a clip, feet bare on the wooden floor. Unsure what to say, he pulled the contract from his jacket and held it out to her.
She took it with a frown and unfolded it. “What’s this?”
“It’s a done deal.”
She gave him a surprised look and flipped to the last page. “My father signed it? You’re not supposed to be helping me.”
“I wasn’t supposed to sleep with you, either.”
She tilted her head in acknowledgment. What was a little rule-breaking at this point, after they’d already gone so far down this road?
“We’re not finished. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“I’ll be there,” she muttered, still staring at the contract in her hands.
Sawyer walked back to his car and drove home. Once inside, he stopped and looked around. Generic blinds, not drapes, covered the windows. He’d walked into the furniture store and bought everything in the model living room, down to the chunky glass vase now sitting on his coffee table. It wasn’t his space.
Even his dog didn’t feel like his own. Jack was more of a roommate than a companion. He paid someone to walk and feed him, whether he was out of town or not. He couldn’t commit to a regular schedule enough to take care of his own pet.
Justine’s apartment was full of her, every corner, every surface. Her books, her pictures, her rugs, it even smelled like her. His house smelled stale. It didn’t even smell like anybody lived here.
He always thought he didn’t like apartments. He’d look around at the four walls and feel like they were closing in on him. That’s why he drove through morning and evening traffic to get to work, even though he lived alone. But right now, he’d be glad to trade his house for her comfortable apartment. He wondered what she’d think of his house.
“Okay.” He stood up. “Enough of that.” He pulled out his briefcase and spread the files out on the coffee table. He had plenty of work to keep him busy. Who the hell cared where he lived? He didn’t know what he wanted. All his life, he’d set his sights on a thing in the distance and clawed his way there. Until last night, it was his promotion. If he could only have that without Justine, it was no more than a hollow victory.
****
Justine spent the entire evening trying hard not to stare at the copied contract on her coffee table. She read. She found an old Hitchcock movie on TV. She went online and collected the last of her clothes money. She boxed everything up for shipment. One way or another, she wouldn’t sell clothes anymore.
In truth, she no longer even wanted most of them. Maybe she’d donate them to charity. Now, she’d wear what she wanted. No more creating photo opportunities to turn into cash later. Besides, she’d grown accustomed to wearing comfortable clothes again while staying with Liann.
She slept fitfully, and the next morning she couldn’t stand the idea of lacing herself up in hose and a skirt. Besides, this was the entertainment business, nobody cared if she wore a blouse or t-shirt.
But she figured she should have gone with the skirt when Sawyer looked at her, rolled his eyes, and muttered, “Jesus, Justine.”
She stopped to look around. Thea had come through in decorating the new office. A desk sat in front of the window, shaped like an apple eaten around the core. The bottom of the apple faced the window, the top held three chairs around the semi-circle, with recessed areas for her and Sawyer. Behind sleek office chairs sat large workspaces on opposite walls, giving them both spacious work areas, and a semi-conference table. A long, red couch faced the desks, and behind it, a window with a view of the Manhattan skyline. Leo sat on the couch, reading through a file.
“Morning, Leo.” She turned to Sawyer with a frown. “What’d I do now?”
“What are you wearing?”
“Jeans. People here wear jeans all the time.” She walked to the edge of his side of the desk and looked at him. “You’re wearing jeans now.”
“Not that tight.”
“Please. Besides”—she grabbed the leg of her jeans and shook the material—“if they were tight, I couldn’t do this.”
“That’s not where they’re tight.” He went back to the papers on his desk, flipping through large sketches.
“Are these jeans too tight, Leo?”
Leo smiled a we’ve-got-a-secret smile, and Justine couldn’t help smiling back. “Looks fine to me.”
Sawyer didn’t glance back up at them but said, “See?”
Justine rolled her eyes again, abandoning the argument as futile, and leaned over the desk to look through the sketches for set design proposals. Each one had a drawing, swatches of material, and a dollar amount in the top right corner.
Leo spoke up behind her. “She has a ‘J’ on her back pocket.” Whether he thought it a nice touch or wanted to goad Sawyer on, she couldn’t tell.
“Stop looking at her ass, Leo.”
Justine mouthed the word, “Stop,” at Leo, and they shared a smile before he went back to his folder.
Veronica breezed into the room with a fistful of messages. “Nice jeans. Your mom is outside. Want me to send her in?”
“Yes, I do, thank you. Isn’t this place incredible? I think we have the nicest office in the building. People will be jealous. They’ll come here to hang out. We could install a coffee bar over there.”
Her mother walked in, smiling, and shook her head at Justine’s monologue. “I get it, you like it. I’m glad.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I’m taking Monique out to lunch. She’s taking the afternoon off. I’m helping her do some shopping, taking her to the stylist.”
“Should I be jealous, Mom? That’s what we do.”
“It’s a little makeover before her boyfriend comes home from a business trip.”
“You’re giving makeovers? I thought you were grooming future beauty queens to take over the world?”
“That was too creepy. Besides, this is just for fun.” Her mother reached over to pick a piece of lint off of Justine’s shirt.
“That’s great, Mom. Care to give me a life makeover?”
Leo cleared his throat, stood, and approached them. He held out a hand. “I’m Leo, and you are obviously the beautiful maternal half of the lady wearing jeans with a capital ‘J’.”
“Yes, I certainly am. Thea, nice to meet you.”
Veronica slipped back into the room, leading Daniel, and winked at Thea. She made a circle with her thumb and forefinger and whispered, “You look fabulous.”
Justine frowned, confused by the exchange. Her mother had said she’d spent some time with Veronica while she decorated the office, but what could they have talked about that had them on such friendly terms?
Daniel stopped, took her by the shoulders, and beamed at her. “You did it. I’m impressed at your…what’s a nice way to say ‘stubbornness’?”
Thea piped up, “Resolve.”
“Yes, your resolve.”
“Hmm. Thanks, Daddy.”
She turned back to her desk and ignored him. Sharing the room with Sawyer and him, afraid he’d pick up on something, made her stomach knot up. It’s not like he had voodoo powers, she tried to convince herself.
Her father cleared his throat and turned to her mother. She saw this from the corner of her eyes, like a zebra at the watering hole watches the hungry lion.
“Thea, you look beautiful, as always.”
“Thank you.” Thea offered a winning smile. Literally, that smile had won her a national title.
Justine stopped to peer at them, outright. They were being civil?
Daniel said, “I thought about calling, but then, well, I didn’t. But I wanted to apologize, for—”
“Oh, no, you don’t need to do that. Then I’d feel like I needed to, and then what kind of crazy world would that be?” Her mother giggled. Seriously. Giggled.
She couldn’t take any more. “What is that? That you’re doing?”
Her parents looked at her, like they’d only remembered they were in a room full of people. “What?” they both asked.
She gestured with her finger, pointing between them. “That thing. Eww.”
Her mother turned those wide black eyes on her. “We’re being polite. I’d think you’d be pleased.”
“Not pleased.” That didn’t look like politeness. It looked like flirting. “It’s creeping me out.”
Veronica spoke up. “You asked me to remind you to pick up Liann, Justine.”
She fisted her hands in annoyance. “Oh, that’s right. I knew I was supposed to do something.” She grabbed her purse, checking to make sure she had cash on her. She’d take a cab. Really, it’d be nice to see Liann, maybe talk to her. She was the only person in the world, other than Sawyer himself, who knew what was between them. Unless Leo had guessed. Not entirely impossible after the jeans comments. She needed to get out of this office.
Strolling through the hallway, she slipped her purse on her shoulder.
“A big sparkly ‘J’ on your ass. That’s classy.”
She stopped, turned, sighed. He’d snuck up on her. Damn. “You wouldn’t know classy if it bit you on your ass, Travis.” She turned to go, and then thought better of it. She wouldn’t show him her sparkly ass again. She walked backward toward the elevator. “I doubt you inspire that kind of oral affection.”
He slapped a hand over his heart, pretending to be wounded. “See? I knew there was a little kink in you I missed the first time around.”
“This is sexual harassment.”
“In the extreme.” He followed her into the elevator and turned toward her as the doors closed. “So, where are you off to?”
“To pick up Liann Linell.”
“I’ll come with you. I’d like to talk to you.” He smiled.
“You realize it would take an act of God to make me get in a car with you?”
He looked at her serenely. “I have a car waiting.”
She froze. “How did you know?”
“It’s my company, Justine. Who’s going to tell me to mind my own business?”
“It’s my father’s company. You just own a significant amount of stock.”
“What’s the second half of this company’s name?” He shrugged. She followed him outside and hesitated beside a sleek stretch limo. Maybe Liann would appreciate the gesture. What the hell. If he wanted to talk to her, he would. If not now, he’d just show up later. At least this way the driver could chaperone.
She slid into the car and asked. “So, what do you want to talk about?” Might as well get it over with.
Travis offered her water and then twisted the lid off and took a swig himself when she shook her head, gulping deeply. “First, I’d like to apologize for my behavior at the penthouse.”
She chuckled. “You called me low-class five minutes ago.”
“And I meant it.” He sobered. “But I wasn’t drunk or irate.”
“Point taken. Second?”
“I want to talk to you about Sawyer. He’s not who you think he is.”
She groaned and threw her head back against the leather headrest. “What do you know about what I think of him?”
“I’m not blind.”
“You’re jealous. I’m not discussing this with you.”
“Just listen.”
“Since we’re in a moving car, my choices are somewhat limited. Which was pretty much the plan, wasn’t it?”
“Guilty. All right, first of all, he changed his name when he turned eighteen.”
“I wish I’d thought of that.”
He offered her a tight smile, but didn’t look surprised. “I thought you were going to listen.”
“No, I get to make comments.” She snatched a water and twisted the top off violently. “Go on.”
“Fine. He also grew up in foster care, group homes. His own mother didn’t want him.”
She shook her head, unable to comprehend his motivation in telling her this. “What kind of person do you think I am that I would feel anything but sympathy in response to that?”
“You don’t understand.”
“This conversation is over. It’s none of my business, and it’s none of yours.”
The car slowed as they approached The Plaza. If Travis would disappear, maybe get abducted by aliens, anything, her life would be exponentially better.
Before the driver could bother, she threw open the door of the car and climbed out, leaving Travis inside, and headed for the top floor. Part of her hoped he’d be gone when she came back down.
She knocked on the door, and Liann opened it, stepping out of the way. Shopping bags covered the floor, the couch, and the tables. Probably forty of them, at least. “Did you do all of this yesterday?”
Liann shrugged, looking a little embarrassed. “Last night. I was nervous. You’ve heard what they say about replacing one addiction with another? Now, I shop. I checked, there’s no twelve-step program.”
“You and my mother would be best friends.”
Liann slipped on a jacket. “I’ve met your mother. I don’t think she likes me.”
“I’m sure that’s not true. Why wouldn’t she like you?” In the elevator, the star didn’t elaborate on the statement.
Outside, the driver hopped out to open the door and she slid in behind Liann. “Oh, right. This is Travis Chase. Travis, Liann.”
Travis turned on the charm. A gracious smile lit his face, and he tipped his head deferentially, grasping her hand in both of his. “I’m such a fan, Ms. Linell.”
“Please, call me Liann.” She practically purred, then turned to Justine. “Honey, do you surround yourself with gorgeous men on purpose, or are you just a very lucky girl?”
Justine raised her eyebrows, taken aback. “Um…I guess I’m lucky that way.” She sat back, and she’d be damned if she could call what the two of them were doing anything but flirting. Disgusting. Had someone put something in the water, or what?
In the limo, Justine rested her chin on her knuckles as they volleyed compliments and innuendo back and forth. It was like being forced to watch a documentary about a butterfly and a worm performing a mating ritual.
As they approached the office, he asked Liann to join him for lunch. He turned to look at Justine, as if only now remembering her presence. “Of course, Justine can accompany us. Are you hungry?”
“I don’t think I could eat.” Ever again. Or spend another hour with the two of them. She shook her head. “We have a lot to do. Sawyer and Leo are waiting for us.”
“Oh, but we must have time for a quick bite. I’m starving.” Liann gave Justine a pleading look.
“You two go ahead, then. I’m going to go back to the office, and we’ll meet back up there.”
Of course, neither of them cared whether she was going with them anyway. The driver circled the block and dropped her off. She walked into the building, taking her time. She didn’t mind a diversion for Travis’s attention, although she should warn the star. That little development was not something she could’ve predicted.
****
It was late in the afternoon when Justine, Sawyer, Leo, and Liann finished. Sawyer and Leo left at the same time, both in a hurry to get out of the office. She couldn’t blame them, not after witnessing Liann flirt with Travis most of the day.
She dry scrubbed her face and exhaled. “I’m exhausted.”
Liann offered a sympathetic smile. “I bet you’re starved, too. You didn’t eat lunch.”
“A little.”
“I went out yesterday, well, you saw the shopping bags. Anyway, there was this restaurant nearby when I worked here, a thousand years ago, and it’s still there.”
Justine rested her chin in the palm of her hand and smiled. “Is it still good?”
“I didn’t stop. Let me buy you dinner?”
Justine paused to consider it. She’d done the right thing, with Sawyer, she was sure of it. But she missed the hell out of him. And if she said no, she’d go home to watch something to make her cry, give her manufactured emotional catharsis, and then go to bed and toss most of the night.
If she said yes, she’d still do those things, but she could at least postpone them. “Sure,” she said.
They walked to the Italian restaurant. The dining room glowed with candles on every table and fresh baked bread was served with olive oil and herbs. Justine finished off her third breadstick. “I could eat only this. I don’t even need an entrée.”
“I think the room is lit this low so no one else can see us gorge ourselves on the bread.” Liann took a sip of water. “So, tell me about Travis, honey.”
Justine pursed her lips. She could tell plenty, but she was hesitant. This deal with her father, the problems with Travis, it embarrassed her. “Travis is… um, hmmm. I’ve known Travis a long time.”
“That’s informative.” Liann laughed.
“Well, what did you two talk about today?”
“He was charming. He’s hot. He’s eight years younger than me, and we have the same birthday. I like him.”
“How’s your taste in men?”
“Terrible.”
“Then it hasn’t changed.” Justine shrugged. “Sorry.”
“He said you’d dated.”
She dreaded this conversation, necessary as it may be. “I want some coffee. Do you want some?”
The star raised her eyebrows. “Sure. So…did you?”
“A long time ago. Like I was barely old enough to vote, that long.”
Liann took her time mixing cream into her coffee. “Would you feel awkward if I went on a date with him? He’s asked me out to dinner tomorrow.”
“Awkward isn’t the right term. I’d be concerned for you. He’s not a nice guy.”
“I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself. Now, let’s split a tiramisu, and you tell me about yourself.”
“Not much to tell that you haven’t already read somewhere.” Justine waved down a waiter, service not the strong point here, and leaned back, cupping her coffee between her hands. “I’m an open book.”
“Everyone has secrets. What about your parents?”
Justine let a bite of the tiramisu melt in her mouth, like chocolate cake goodness dipped in strong coffee. “My parentage is the least secretive thing about me.”
“I mean their secrets.”
Justine pushed the plate away. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Well, I mean they split up around the time I flew this coop. What happened?”
“I don’t know. I was five.”
Liann lifted a bite of tiramisu and chewed, thoughtful. “Do you ever wish you had a brother? Or a sister?”
Justine sighed. Such strange questions, like some Hollywood expose on crack. “No. I love my mom and dad, I do. But I wouldn’t wish all the…” She trailed off, unsure of what she wanted to say. “Growing up with the parents I did, I’m sure lots of kids would love that. It’s all perspective though. It’s all I know, so maybe it was wonderful and I’m an ungrateful brat. Or maybe my life would be a lot different if total strangers weren’t so concerned about what I eat for breakfast. Or with who. I don’t know.”
Justine wished she’d opted for watching Terms of Endearment instead. At the end of dinner, she got Liann into a cab and then headed home on the subway.
Daniel’s car gleamed in the streetlights beside the curb outside her apartment from a block away, like a beacon. It didn’t belong there, like parking a horse-drawn carriage in the middle of the interstate.
As she approached, she pulled her wool coat tight around her. When was the last time her father had visited her apartment? He was more the summoning-to-him type.
He climbed out and waited by the door. “I need to speak with you.”
“All right.” She led him into the elevator, which clanged and complained the whole trip.
They walked into her apartment, and before she could offer him anything, before she’d even taken her coat off, he exploded. “I can’t believe you brought that woman here, Justine.”
“Daddy, you said you were proud of my resolve eight hours ago.”
“I didn’t want to make a scene in front of your mother.”
“So you lied about being proud of me.” She wished she could make that sting less. “Okay. What’s your issue with Liann?”
“Liann.” He scoffed. “Lynn Reynolds is a drunk.”
“So is Travis, and you want to invite him into the family.”
He glared at her. “You bring her here, and you force me to sign that contract.”
“How did I force you? I wasn’t even there when you signed it.”
“Sawyer made it clear that if I balked you’d withdraw from the agreement.”
She’d known it; Sawyer had worked some magic to get the contract signed. Something she wouldn’t have had the guts to do, but she couldn’t let on now. “Daddy, it’s done. Her contract is signed, and she’s here to stay. Suck it up, and God I can’t believe I’m telling you this, act like a professional.”
“Your mother, she doesn’t deserve this.”
“What does she have to do with this?” Justine hung her coat in the closet, annoyed and confused.
First Liann wanted to play twenty questions about her family and now this? Justine’s fingers went numb when the obvious finally struck her, and her coat tumbled off the hanger to the closet floor.
“Daddy?” She turned to face him, shutting the door, the coat forgotten, her chest heavy. “What did you do?”
“It was a long time ago.”
“Oh, God!” Her breath flew out until she had nothing more to utter with. Not that she had any clue what to say. Her lungs were floaty, like a balloon with the air whooshing out, and she realized she was on the verge of a panic attack.
He’d had an affair, who knew how long ago, and she’d just brought his mistress to flaunt in her mother’s face. And signed her. To a two year contract!
“Okay, okay, okay. I can’t do this right now. You have to go away.”
“Justine, I was—”
“Shut up. I don’t even want to look at you right now. Just go.”
Daniel listened to her, for once. He’d looked so hurt, but she couldn’t deal with it, he didn’t deserve that from her.
Justine sat down on the couch, the stupid contract right there in front of her face. She picked it up, tossed it to the side, and lowered her head, struggling to slow down her breathing. What had she done?