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Authors: Kathleen Mareé

BOOK: Cut
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"Well ironic for you to ask, but I was hoping to have a visitor."

Visitor?

A woman?

"Oh okay, that sounds nice."

I roll my eyes.

"Yes, I am looking forward to seeing her," he continues.

Her?

How can he be telling me this on the phone?

Her!

I am writhing, confused as to why he would be telling me he was planning on seeing another woman this weekend. I mean it's not as if we are together or anything, but only seconds ago he was asking if I had read his messages. Those sincere words about him thinking of me and not being forgotten.

"So, are
you
free this weekend?" he questions, cutting off my irate thoughts.

What?!

"Excuse me?" I ask gobsmacked.

"Are. You. Free. This weekend?"

I try to swallow but my mouth has suddenly gone dry. I don't really understand what he is saying to me.

But, you’re in LA?

"You want me to come and see you?" I start slowly. I spit the words out like they aren't even realistic.

"Yes."

“In
LA
?”

“Yes.”

Huh?

I am stunned. I have no words to speak, but my thoughts are full of whizzing sentiments.

What does he mean he wants me to come to LA?

I hardly know him!

This is absurd!

"Ah, hello? Are you still with me?" He cuts the silence with his calm voice and despite him being on the other side of the world, I can still feel the air thicken around me.

"Ye - yes, I'm here," I stutter trying to get my mouth to work properly again.

"Amy has arranged a ticket for you to leave tomorrow morning, she will text you the details..."

Amy?

Bet she loved that! She hates me!

"...and I can arrange a car to pick you up from the airport...." His words report from his mouth like he has practiced this a million times.

I wonder how many other women he flies around the world?

I’m sure many!

Do I even want to know?

“Are you still with me?" I hear him finish.

"Umm, I think so," I start incoherently. "Th– that’s really nice of you to offer but I...."

"No you don't. You aren't going to devise an escape route just yet!"

Instantly the image of me leaving him stranded in his hotel foyer as I left abruptly from his room comes flooding back.

"Penelope, at least think about it before you decide to run away."

I blush with embarrassment.

"The ticket has been arranged, if you decide you don't want to use it then that's your choice. But please think about it." His voice washes over me. So non-emotional and cool, yet my body reacts to it the same way every time. It's just so...
him
.

"I would really,
really
like to see you."

Oh my.

His words are more earnest than I would have anticipated and they speak to my soul more than anything. I know my brain won't have any say in what comes out of my mouth from this point, so I just knuckle down and hang on for the ride.

"Okay, I will think about it."

Am I actually going to think about doing this?

"Good."

I can't help but smile. He sounds pleased with his efforts in negotiation, either that, or he really knows what kind of affect he has on me and probably all women.

"I have to go, but I can't wait to see you tomorrow," he finishes with self assurance, before I hear the dial tone in my ear. He was gone.

What the hell?

He wants me to fly to LA tomorrow?!

That's crazy!

I toss my phone back down on the table pushing a pile of unkempt papers closer towards the glass edge and shake my head in disbelief. He actually thinks I would fly half way around the world to see him.

There is no way I possibly could…

Could I?

Don't get me wrong, the actual idea of flying to Los Angeles would be nothing short of amazing. I've never travelled to the United States before and have always wanted to, but I don't even really know him.

Do I?

The rational side of my brain just thinks this is far too extravagant and a little too good to be true, but the other side, the side that is mesmerised by him is definitely screaming in the opposite direction. Besides, I was on a mission to try to sort out what lies behind me so I could actually move forward. Perhaps if I sort through that baggage first, I would be more open to some new adventure.

"Hey Penny you’re up!"

Rosie bellows from across the foyer, as she swings closed the entrance door and places her keys on the silver hook. I glance toward her and smile uneasily, which has been the only kind of smile I can seem to manage these days.

"Have you eaten?" she asks immediately, trying to disguise her surprise that I am out of my room. I roll my eyes.

"I had some muesli..." I start, although my brain is mush.

She is standing opposite me on the other side of the bench gathering contents to make her own bowl, clattering the utensils and eyeing me between each movement.

"Are you okay? You look strange."

I stare back in a daze, shaking my head to be more present and as my puzzled eyes meet her wide quizzical ones, I take a nervous breath.

Here goes.

"Rose, I just got a call from Jay."

Her eyes immediately bulge and her fumbling hands stop their purpose.

"Oh my God, and?" she screeches.

I shrug. "He’s invited me to LA tomorrow to see him."

Rosie’s face lights up like a fireworks on New Years' Eve. "Seriously?"

I nod slowly, screwing up my face at the same time. Suddenly she squeals, clapping her hands in the infant-like-way she does when she gets like this. I roll my eyes.

"Oh my God Pen! That’s amazing!!"

Her face studies mine as the words come out of her mouth, before she realises that my expression isn’t matching hers. "Isn’t it amazing?" she asks dumbfounded.

I shrug. "I don’t know. I don’t even know him," I answer doubtfully.

She sighs heavily and crinkles up her nose.

Great, I don’t want another argument.

"It’s just, I barely know him and I was thinking I really need closure from Evan, you know, get answers so I can finally move past all of this," I reason quickly, not giving her a chance to get angry with me and waiving my hands carelessly around in front of me. “I think it’s finally time you know?”

"Penny, I don’t think that’s a good idea."

I’m confused
.

"What? To see Jay or to finally sort stuff out with Evan?"

She rolls
her
eyes at
me
.

"Of course you should go to LA! That’s a given. I don’t think you need to speak to Evan," she dismisses, as she goes back to preparing her cereal steering her eyes away from me.

"What do you mean? Aren’t you curious as to why he has come to see me after all of this time? I have questions about everything and he is the only one that can help me with that. I really feel like I may be ready to relive it again, you know, to finally get some closure." My words are more confident than I expected. It’s like unconsciously I know this is the right thing to do and I’m confused as to why my friend isn’t thinking that putting him behind me is the best option. The
only
option right now. "Why don’t you want me to move on or something?" I ask a little annoyed.

"Don’t be silly Penny, of course that’s all I want. Trust me!" she exclaims as she glances up at me from her now made bowl of cereal.

I don’t get it.

She sighs. "Look, I know how much he hurt you and we have spent all this time trying to forget about him," she places a large spoonful of muesli in her mouth before continuing. "I just don't want you to go back to square one, that’s all," she mumbles as she mutilates her food.

"You don’t think speaking to him will clear the air? Will help me finally put to rest any questions I had? Like, why now Rose?" I urge.

"Penny, does it really matter if you get all of those answers? Honestly, it’s not like you would go back to him is it?"

I shrug, shaking my head.

"No!" I reply confidently.

Would I?

"Well then what will those answers accomplish? You will only continue thinking about whatever you uncover, and may take you several more months to fully process and move on from," she continues. "Honestly Pen, you are finally in a place where you can just get away from everything. Seriously. LA. We have always wanted to go there. And with Jay Ryker!" She places her empty bowl in the sink behind her before wandering towards me, placing both of her hands on my shoulders firmly. "Jay. Ryker," she repeats again with wide eyes.

I begin to smile, concluding that maybe she is right. I can follow the inquiry up with Evan at any time. Those questions will always be there and this opportunity may not. At the very least it’s a free trip to a city I have always wanted to visit, which would be an unbelievable distraction.

"Go pack," she orders while I consider the predicament.

"But Rose.. I...." I start but she immediately interrupts me.

"No buts Penelope, just go and pack! If you have a horrible time, if he’s an arsehole; whatever excuses you are concocting in that brain of yours, you can always come home. No excuses. Go pack!" She drops her hands from my shoulders and points her right arm up towards the stairs.

I roll my eyes.

"Okay...” I mumble defeated, as I skulk towards the foyer and upstairs towards my room.

Going to see Jay in Los Angeles?

Shit!

Am I really going to do this?

Chapter Thirteen

The flight to Los Angeles was long. Very long. About fourteen hours long to be exact. The furthest flight I had ever been on was to Perth a few years ago with Evan, and we only had to endure five. I mindlessly scrambled my things through security and the U.S. customs area in a zombie-like manner, vaguely checking my hair and makeup in every reflection I could find along the way. Trying to freshen up in the cramped airplane bathrooms while you are feeling less than fantastic is not an easy task in the slightest, and I wanted to make sure I looked presentable when he saw me again. I mean it’s been a week since we had our whirlwind few days in Sydney and I didn’t want him to think he made a mistake inviting me here; especially when I consider the type of company he is so clearly used to. After packing for my flight like Rosie had ordered me too, curiosity got the better of me and I did it. I 'Googled' him. Finally my phone came in handy for more than just getting messages from him; now it had the label of being my entire information source for him too. No sooner his name was typed into the search bar the instant regret came barrelling through. A barrage of images of him with other women.
Gorgeous
women. Thousands of them on my screen for me to compare myself to. Most of the pictures appeared to be taken in clubs or at gigs, where his arms were draped carelessly over their shoulders and their roaming hands all over his body. His stunning blue eyes were just as striking, but the windows were closed and there was no life behind them. The distant expressionless face reminding me of his band mates and the way they were acting around their companions at The Loft. Although he looked the same on the outside - it definitely wasn't the Jay that captivated me and led me here. And even though he appears
different
with me so far, I can't help but let my girlie insecurities float to the surface of my extremely complicated ocean.

Mechanically and nervously following the sea of people, I finally make my way to the main entrance of LAX airport. Confronted by taxis, passengers and luggage not knowing where or what to do, I scan my eyes from side to side anxiously. The text from Amy bluntly said there would be someone here to pick me up, but she was far from detailing anything else about the mystery travel arrangements. After some searching I notice a black sedan parked behind a line of others already occupied and a tanned man standing alone beside it. He is dressed in a black suit and tie and is holding a sign out in front of him - but I can’t make out the words written on it from here. I take a few eager steps towards him and as he gets closer, the words on the sign become clear.

'Penelope'

Jay doesn’t even know your surname Penny and you have flown around the globe to see him
,
my good conscious quips at me.

I keep my head fixed on the attractive young man nervously, until I finally reach him.

"Penelope, for Mr Loft?"

I roll my eyes and politely nod.

A week away from him hasn't deterred his opportunity to tease me.

He immediately takes my bags and opens the rear door to the sedan signalling me to enter. As soon as I slide in I notice the same pair of lace-up combat boots attached to the crossed legs of a man. I know straight away who they belong to. My heart begins to pound forcefully in my chest.

"How was your flight?"

The cool, American accent slices through the confined air and I can’t help but feel a little light headed.

Is this actually happening?

I gaze up from his boots to his grey wash jeans, up his toned body to his fitted black tee and that ghostly skin glowing from beneath his thin shirt; until I meet those eyes.

Oh my.

Locking onto them after being away from them this past week is even more stunning than I remembered. His hair effortlessly tall - all James Dean like, and his eyes are glistening.
Open
.
I smile.

"Long," is all I manage. The air around us thickens rapidly building with each thump from my chest. He grins.

Oh gosh he looks hot!

I notice the driver walk past his window and make his way into the driver’s seat. Jay is not moving a muscle and only staring at me intently. I can’t help but follow my focus to the driver as he starts the engine and heads off, taking us on our journey to who knows where. I am completely vulnerable.

"I can assure you he is a very safe driver," Jay states playfully, inevitably to get my attention off the chauffeur and back onto him. I blush. I feel so intimidated and silly, having flown all this way to see him and now I am here, I am at a loss for words on what to say or how to act.

"So, how have you been?"

Not real creative, but it will do.

"Busy. Very busy."

His blunt, short reply makes me squirm uncomfortably.

This was a mistake
,
my head screams at me.

Awkwardly, I move my eyes from his direction to look out of my window trying to absorb the scenery and to take my mind off the discomfort.

LA! Wow!

I can’t believe I am in Los Angeles!

It is quite surreal to be in another country right now. Only yesterday I was dragging myself out of my bed and contemplating my sorry existence. My eyes follow the passing vehicles and landmarks, taking everything in and letting my senses run wild.

Palm trees!

"You ever been before?" I feel his warm breath cascade over my neck, as I realise he has moved into the vacant seat beside me; our bodies are only inches from each other and the accompanying chills start like clockwork.

"No, never," I breathe softly not wanting to turn to face him for fear where it may lead. I feel his careful fingers to the side of my face, as he gently moves a long stray hair from my flustered cheek and tucks it behind my ear. His very touch again, speaks its own language to my body and my head automatically, yet cautiously turns to face him. With our noses almost tip to tip and our eyes completely level, all I can do is stare directly into them. The pale blue is mesmerising up close, that I willingly search deeper and let their damage wreak havoc over my tormented soul. His fingers drag tenderly from my ear slowly down my neck, allowing goose bumps to ripple across my skin.

"You are even more beautiful than I remember. If that were even possible."

Me?

Before my thoughts have time to construct a response his mouth presses urgently to mine, stinging my warm skin with his demanding touch. Parting our lips slowly and in sequence, we caress each other’s tongues sensually. The deepest kiss I have had with him, and perhaps anyone so far. It’s passionate and gentle, but fierce and hard all at the same time - sending me into a spin. With his palm cupping my neck, his fingertips carefully circling seductively on the spot and send the never ending supply of tremors throughout my body. After I become familiar with our pattern, my brain finally catches up and I pull away hastily. Raising my hand to the side of my face, I re-tuck the same loose strand of hair and blush immediately.

His eyes open at my sudden departure, seemingly confused.

"Something wrong?"

I redden further and motion my head toward the driver.

We have company!

I’m immediately embarrassed by how into the kiss I became especially with the driver in the front seat. I know that I came here willingly to see him, but I am by no means a hook up that will put on a show for strangers. I fold my arms across my lap utterly mortified.

'Another groupie' I bet he’s thinking
,
my good conscious quips at me.

Jay turns his head towards the driver and chuckles quietly to himself before turning back to me, stroking my flushed cheek with the back of his cool hand.

"Don’t worry, he is paid to not take notice."

Told you. Groupie.

I swallow heavily and shake my head; trying to not only expel my conscious’ thoughts, but the images of the
many
women he’s been paid to ignore. I curl my lips awkwardly as Jay's eyes are blazing sensually.

"I am glad you came," he whispers so softly that it’s almost hard to hear. His words are vulnerable and take me by surprise.

"Me too."

Am I?

The intensity between our eyes is building again as our bodies are still pressed up against each other. One hand is firmly on my knee and the other at the nape of my neck, stroking me carefully. I prepare myself to encounter round two when I feel a strange vibrating sensation against my leg. I look down curiously and spy a dim light shining through his denim pocket.

His phone!

His hand drops immediately to answer it, and moves into the opposite side of the seat, uttering annoyance about schedule times and artwork.

As he discusses his work with his caller, I take the relieved opportunity to look over my shoulder at the Los Angeles scenery. We are no longer on the over-bearing freeway and have made our way well into town. Several burger joints and petrol stations pass by before we turn off into a suburban street. The road is very steep and bendy, as we wind up several hilly streets all lined with large houses along each side. There are so many trees encasing us that it’s almost like they have built an entire neighbourhood in the middle of a forest. The constant jerking of the vehicle as we manoeuvre around the area begins to make me feel queasy - the motion obviously not a good mix with jetlag. Jay is still annoyingly preoccupied on his caller and I begin to think that even if I spilled my stomach on the floor in front of him - whoever the hell he is talking to would still be more interesting. He is so oblivious that he doesn’t even notice when the sedan pulls into a spare parking spot on the side of the road.

Are we here?

Where are we?

I glance around the vehicle and see a couple of range rovers parked beside us and a pale blue rendered fence in front of them. There is loads of greenery, huge tropical palm trees above us, and just off to the left is the front facade of a house that wears the same mild blue as the fence.

Are we at his house?

"Yes we are here, I'll see you inside!" He slams the phone into his pocket before finally noticing me again.

"You ready?"

I turn to clamber out of my opened door, courtesy of the driver and make my way to the back of the sedan, presuming to collect my bags.

"Leave those, come."

He puts his arm around my waist snugly making my breath hitch at the sensation, and leads me towards the entrance. As we approach the doorway, I take in the lustrous ivy plant engulfing the entire house. The thick vine looks amazing wrapped around the palest blue render that I find it hard to take my eyes off such an exquisite display.

He opens the front door never once breaking his tightened grip around me, leading me past several doorways until we make our way to a main room. It’s sizeable, with a couple of worn leather couches in the middle, offsetting the light timber floorboards throughout. The walls are all white with several art pieces hanging, almost gallery style on each one. There are windows in the middle of each wall without shutters or curtain’s which boast the amazing high view. The other houses, the trees, the gorgeous clear sky - it’s simply breathtaking. I wander away from his grasp and slowly dawdle around the room absorbing every inch of it, not wanting to miss even the smallest detail. This house; this room was another one of his layers I was suddenly excited to discover and my lips turn up as I inhale his scent that fills it so entirely. I am in a dream.

"Finally!”

My bemusement is interrupted by the familiar insolent tone of the dark haired girl I met back at the Sydney Hotel a week ago now. His assistant, Amy.

“Here are those artworks I need you to look at," she barks.

As I take in her appearance she is just as beautiful as I remembered.
Unfortunately
.
Her black wavy hair pulled up into a loose knot, and the same skinny jeans and singlet displaying her long model-like physique. Although she doesn't acknowledge me, my arms cross protectively around my body as they thoroughly eye over a few A4 sized cards she is holding in her hands.

“This one definitely needs more focus, sharper lines here and here,” he articulates decisively.

“Okay, I will take them to the printers now,” she responds matter of fact, still acting as if I’m not even in the room. “You also need to get back to MTV about a release date for the video, Shaun said you wanted to discuss it with him.”

“Fuck, leave that with me.”

He hands back the A4 cards and she scurries off down the hall we just entered through, never once even glancing toward me. I shuffle my feet on the spot, my arms still awkwardly folded and stare blankly in his direction; waiting for some kind of dialogue to come my way. It doesn't seem to. Instead he flips out his phone and starts fumbling his fingers quickly across the keypad seemingly forgetting that I am even here.

“Jay! The technician is here to look at the gear!" Another man’s voice beckons from beyond the main corridor.

“Fuck,” he mumbles under his breath, still engulfed in his phone. Without warning he turns and heads towards the corridor and slips through one of the entrance ways. He was gone.

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