Chapter 11
Jaxson
It sucks beingsingle in the city of loominglovers.
And seeing couples all in love, walking the streets of Paris together in the rain only makes itworse.
Damn you, Dixie. Damn that fuckingDate Me, Then MarryMe.
Can you believe my agent keeps calling me? I haven’t bothered to return any of his calls yet. And I won’t listen to any of his voicemails. He’s probably trying to get me to do another lame reality show. I’m on a break from all of that, unsure if being in the starlight is for me anymore. For nowanyway.
I kinda like thisrole.
Driver.
A merenobody.
When Lauren’s assistant asked me if I’d been on a reality show, I almostfroze.
But, like the actor I am, I played it cool, slugging back the last of my water, then gave a calm and convincing “Nah.”
What are the odds he’s somehow streamedthatshow?
About the same as the odds that Lauren is the babe you bumped into at the airport, youidiot.
I wonder if anyone else’s conscience is as big of a dick asmine.
After I dropped Icy Hot Princess off, I drove around, almost getting lost in the city, people-watched at a local café, then finally came home where Gramps and Nana are staring at me, smiles plastered to their always jovial faces, eager to interrogate me about my first day on thejob.
I should have gone straight to the guest apartment. I’m in no mood forquestions.
“Come, sit with us,” Nana says, patting the seat of an empty chair at the round, café-style table situated in the corner of the kitchen. It opens up to a terrace overlooking Nana’s vegetable garden. Not that I can see it now. It’s pretty dark outside, save the iridescent glow bouncing off the tea lights strung over the lattice roof of theterrace.
I remove my hat, and ease down onto a cushy chair across from the two of them, both of their eyes gleaming as they sip on wine. Besides the business office being conveniently located in the basement, there is also Gramps’s cellar filled with bottles upon bottles of wine he used to sell when he had the import/export business. Now, he and Nana open one bottle a day, guzzling down a couple of glasses, paired with cubes of cheese and sweet grapes, before going tobed.
Seeing them together, still very much in love, makes my heart flicker. Sure, my own mom and dad are still very much in love too, but for whatever reason, Nana and Gramps’s love for each other lunges at me like a 3Dcinema.
“So, how was your first day?” Gramps asks, offering me a cube ofcheese.
With a wave of my hand, I pass on the cheese. I’m pretty stuffed from the burger I had for lunch and the small pastry I had at the street café before I came home. “It was okay.” I say, resting my elbows on thetable.
Nana traces the rim of the wine glass with her index finger, her eyes fixed on mine. “Why justokay?”
I shrug. “You know, just okay. It started off bad, when I ran over Icy Hot’s”—I pause—“I mean Lauren’s phone. The phone that skidded across the cement and onto the street, after she took a tumble on thesidewalk.”
Two sets ofWTF?eyes stare back at me. Incredulous.Curious.
“Oh and that’s not the worst of it,” I add. “When Lauren went down, her skirt went up, showcasing a pretty nice-lookingb—”
“Oh my word,” Nana squeals, while Gramps leans back in his seat, the look of shock and awe painted all over hisface.
A few seconds, maybe ten, twenty, or sixty pass, the sound of the tick, tock, tick from the kitchen wall clock is magnified by the silence permeating theroom.
Now leaning forward, his fingers tracing the rim of his wine glass, Gramps says, “Well if anything, that is definitely a unique beginning to a day. And how did it go from there, better right? I mean considering it was already downhill at thatpoint.”
I sigh, threading my fingers through my hair. “Nope. You see, it turns out”—I shake my head, scoffing at the ridiculousness of it all—“I’ve had the pleasure of bumping into Lauren Blake oncebefore.”
Nana’s eyeswiden.
