By Degrees (43 page)

He sits back against the couch cushions.
 
“Phew!
 
There, I’m done.
 
Go ahead and yell at me.”

I stand.
 
My heart is too heavy to yell or cry anymore.
 
“I’m going to bed.”

“Want company?” he asks as I step over his legs.

I lean down and pinch him before he can roll out of the way.
 
“Goodnight, Jack.”

“Goodnight, Scarlett.”

I leave him in the family room and close the bedroom door behind me.
 
Resting my head against the frame, I cry the first of ten thousand new tears that come before I fall asleep.

Chapter Forty-Two

JACK AND I BATTLE THROUGH my roller coaster emotions for another four days before I finally capitulate to his demands and read the texts and emails from Scott, Tarin, Mel, and several other people, including all my lost boys.
 
Apparently the word is out that I’ve had some sort of mental breakdown.

From Mel I hear, “…
don’t worry about a thing … Scott is taking care of everything.
 
He’s really something special.
 
Fair warning, I’m going to try like heck to recruit him away from you.
 
I have a feeling he’ll be good at anything he puts his mind to doing…”

From Scott I hear, “
…old man Warner is up my butt crack every day about coming to work for him.
 
As if.
 
I’m so not into the pinky ring posse.
 
Anyway, your boy is coming along.
 
Bad news for Jelly.
 
That test came up negativo for Tarin as the daddy-o, but he’s paying her expenses anyway.
 
He’s making her go into rehab too.
 
Smart guy.
 
No one wants a baby born with a third eyeball from all the drugs he knows she’s taking.
 
Gold star for him being a nice guy.
 
This photography thing he has going?
 
Holy shit.
 
The dood is so talented.
 
Makes me look like a granny with a flashbulb Kodak.
 
I kind of hate him for that, but then again I forgive him when he snaps a few of me and makes me look like a total ladies’ man.
 
I’ll be on GQ next month, you watch.
 
Anyway, I’m on his back all day, he’s doing everything right, and he’s on track to meet all his contractual obligations, so we’re all good.
 
I’m so going to buy myself that Vespa.
 
And no, it’s not going to be pink.
 
I miss you.
 
Come back soon, Pooh Bear.”

From Tarin, I’ve received no less than twenty texts and emails.
 
I scroll through them, able to picture in my mind the expressions on his face, the way he’s standing, and the tone of his voice as I take in the words on the screen.
 
He’s proud of himself.
 
It’s hard work to make these kinds of changes.
 
He wants to take responsibility for himself and his actions.
 
He’s sorry and he misses me.

“…Scarlett, you know how sometimes you just go through life on auto-pilot and you don’t stop to take the time to appreciate the little things around you?
 
Well, that’s what I did, but I also didn’t take the time to stop and appreciate the big things around me either. I guess what I’m saying is I appreciated nothing at all.
 
I took advantage of my friends and the people who care about me.
 
I was and probably still am an asshole. You started me on the road to seeing that, but now I feel like I’m walking it alone.
 
I feel pretty confident that I can do this, but I’d rather do it with company, know what I mean? Scott’s a cool guy but not exactly what I have in mind. Would you come back?
 
We could call it work and I’d pay you, or we could just call it friends hanging out with friends.
 
Or maybe even we could call it something more.
 
I’d like to call it something more.
 
What do you say?
 
Are you in or are you out?

I turn off my phone and put it on my nightstand without responding to anyone.

“Everything all good?” asks Jack from my doorway.

“Yeah.”
 
I can’t muster the strength to say it very loudly.
 
Everyone’s doing just fine without me.

“You don’t sound very happy about that.
 
How come?”

I shrug, turning to face him.
 
“I guess part of me is super proud and part of me feels useless.”

“Did Tarin call you that?”

“No.
 
Actually he said he’d rather that I be there.”

“So why not go?”
 
Jack folds his arms and leans against the door frame.
 
“He wants you there, you want to be there … so go.”

“Who says I want to be there?”

“Your face.
 
Your tears.
 
The things you say when you’re sleeping.”

I frown at him, trying to figure out if he’s messing with me or not.
 
“I don’t talk in my sleep.”

“Oh, yes you do.
 
Loud too.
 
Wakes me up.”
 
He breaks into a modernized version of the song by the Romantics,
Talking In Your Sleep.
 
I’m not amused.

“Bullshit.
 
Your room’s on the other side of the apartment.”

“Who says I sleep in there?”

I turn and look at my bed, thrown off by the idea that I’ve had a bed buddy without even realizing it.
 
“You don’t sleep in here.
 
I’d know that.”

He laughs and pushes off the frame to stand straight.
 
“I’m just messing with you.
 
I sleep on the couch sometimes, though, and I can hear you plain as day.
 
You’re always arguing with Tarin.
 
I think you guys have unfinished business.”

I take the phone off the nightstand and stare at it.
 
“Maybe we do.”
 
I can’t believe I just admitted that out loud.
 
“But I’m not ready to go there right now.
 
He needs to finish what he started without me getting in the middle of it.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.
 
I think … this thing with Austin … it just … complicates things too much.
 
I don’t want him needing me because he feels guilty.
 
Like he has to make something up to me.”

“Why do you think he does?
 
Want to do that, I mean?”

“He says he’s made mistakes and he’s trying to fix them.
 
He’s already apologized for the Austin things, so …” I shrug.
 
“I just think getting together based on our mutual situation with Austin is a really bad idea.
 
It’ll eventually go down in flames and take me with it.”

“Do you care about him?” Jack asks, walking into the room and taking me by the shoulders.

“Of course.
 
I care about all my clients.”

“Shut up with the client crap or I’ll put my tongue in your ear.
 
Do. You. Care. About. Him?”
 
Jack shakes me for effect.

I sigh in defeat.
 
“Yes.
 
It’s totally stupid and awful, though, so I’m going to ignore it.”

“You’re going to ignore the feelings?”

“Yes.
 
That’s what I’m going to do.”

“No, you’re not.”
 
He slides his arm around my shoulders and walks me from the room, snatching my phone out of my hand on the way.

I leap up to try and get it from him in the hallway, but he’s way too tall for me, and now thanks to the boxing regime I started him on, he’s a wall of solid muscle.
 
His thumb is tapping out a message up near the ceiling.

“Cut it out, Jack!” I yell, panicked about what he might be doing.

“Back off, wild woman, I’m busy sexting your lover.”

“You’d better not be!” I scream, doubling my efforts to retrieve my cell.
 
I succeed in messing up his hair, but that’s about it.

He hands me back my phone with a very self-satisfied smile.
 
“Here you go.
 
Mission accomplished.”

I hurriedly click over to the texts to see what he sent.

The message to Tarin says one thing:
 
“Come see me in Chicago.”

“Goddammit, Jack!”
 
I run screaming down the hallway and tackle him over the back of the couch.

Chapter Forty-Three

JACK AND I ARE WATCHING television that night when Tarin’s face suddenly appears on the screen.
 
He’s attending a premier of some sort and he’s alone.

I’ve never seen him looking so sharp.
 
We’ve only been apart for three weeks, but he’s a changed person, that much is clear.
 
And I’m not the only one who notices.
 
The girl holding the microphone and hoping to interview him is swept away by it all - the hair, the clothes, his shoulders.
 
Wow and holy schmokes.
 
My heart, it be melting.
 
I cannot believe I had sex with that man and left him behind.
 
How stupid am I?
 
Very stupid.
 
Very, very, very stupid.
 
I grip the arm of the couch so hard my fingers go white.

“My
god!”
the girl says. “Tarin Kilgour of
By Degrees
is here and he is … Tarin!”
 
She coaxes him over with her microphone and crazy waving.
 
“Tell us, what the heck happened to you!
 
Are you in love?
 
Did you join a cult?
 
What happened here?”
 
She puts her hand on his upper arm and looks back and forth between Tarin and the camera, her teeth so big and white they’re almost too bright to look at.
 
She’s rubbing his arm up and down, making me want to reach through the TV to smack her.
 
Jealousy?
 
Oh my god, I’m jealous.
 
Oh, this isn’t good.
 
I leave off with killing the couch and rub my face a few times, trying to get ahold of myself.

Tarin shrugs, giving her a warm smile while also stepping just a tiny bit to the side, enough to detach her hand from his arm.
 
My heart feels like it’s bursting inside my chest cavity, and my face burns with heat.
 
Oh joy!
 
He doesn’t want her to touch him and she’s beautiful!
 
Ahhhhh!
 
This is so not the old Tarin.
 
The old Tarin would have gotten her number and coaxed a blow job from her later.

“Seriously, though, Tarin, how did you do it?
 
You look amazing.”

“Well, I made some new friends, cleaned house, started boxing.”

She puts her hand to her chest and flutters her eyelashes.
 
“Boxing?
 
Oh my god, be still my heart.”
 
She looks at the camera and leans in a little, like she’s sharing a secret with the million or so women watching.
 
“As if he wasn’t sexy enough, right?
 
…Boxing?
 
Someone bring me a fan.”
 
She turns back to him all business.
 
“Tell us who your new friends are, Tarin.
 
Any ladies in the bunch?
 
Anyone special?”

“You could say that.”
 
He looks into the camera and winks.
 
He actually winks!
 
My heart stops, spasms painfully, and then one giant
ker-thump!
later
,
it’s back to racing again.

“Man, is he fucking working that camera or what?” asks Jack, smirking.
 
“Do you know how many girls just came in their pants over that one?”
 
He shakes his head slowly.
 
“I gotta hand it to the guy.
 
When he goes clean, he goes all in with the style, know what I’m saying?”
 
Jack looks down at his heavily ringed fingers and scrappy jeans.
 
“Maybe I should buy a suit.”
 
He looks over at me, as I sit there dealing with anxiety level nine.
 
“Would I look good in a suit?
 
I know you told me to get one before and I ignored you, but I’m thinkin’ maybe I should try one.”

I can’t peel my eyes from the screen now, trying to catch another glimpse of the most attractive man I’ve ever seen in my life.
 
Tarin.
 
Holy shit.

“Yeah, sure.
 
Get a suit,” I say absently.
 
I grab the remote and turn up the sound, trying to catch the mumbled conversation he’s having just off camera with someone else.
 
The girl’s mic is catching part of it as she prepares to snag the next person coming her way.

“Yeah, I got a lot of things going on right now,” he says to someone off-camera.
 
“I’m going out of town soon, so I’m not sure I’ll be there next week.
 
Maybe later, though.
 
Call Mel…”
 
That’s the last I heard before the girl with the microphone is squealing over her next grab.

“What color should I get?” asks Jack.
 
“Black?
 
Probably black, right?
 
Or maybe I’ll swing the other direction and go full-on white…”

“Dark green,” I say standing, thinking about Tarin’s eyes.
 
They’re so, so dark.
 
But on the screen just now, I could see the green.
 
I swear I could see something magic in them.
 
“Go with green.”