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“Well,” she said, exhaling a long slow breath, “after agonizing over it all night long, I realized sometime in the last hour that if it was right to marry you and use that to try to fix my public image, then it wouldn’t feel wrong or weird to do it. I wouldn’t have to think about it. I would feel in my heart that it is actually the right thing to do.
The fact is, I don’t feel that in my heart. That’s why I’m wrestling with it so much. That’s why I didn’t go to sleep last night. It doesn’t feel right because it isn’t the right thing to do, and no matter how much I think about it, or how many ways I try to make it make sense to myself, it’s just not going to change.”
He sat up straight and almost held his breath. “So you don’t want to get married?” he asked in anticipation.
He could hear her smile through her voice. “No. I don’t want to get married. When I finally admitted that to myself, it was such an enormous relief. I felt like the weight of the world was suddenly lifted from me.”
“I know that feeling; I’m there right now… the whole weight of the world right on top of me.” He half-smiled to know that he wasn’t alone in that pressure.
“I just think that right now the only thing that is really important to my heart is my career. Not my career with a fake marriage… just my career. I’ve worked hard to gain the success that I have now. I’ve made it on my own because of all that I sacrificed and worked hard to do to get here, and now I’m here. Now I’m where I always wanted to be my whole life; except for all the trouble with David, but that’s just one of the steps in my path. The best way to handle it is with honesty and integrity.
He might want to come back to me, but that doesn’t mean that I’m going to let him. He got arrested again. That’s his problem, not mine. I am going to keep doing the work that I’m doing with the children with cancer project, and with a new album after that, and even with just settling in here at my house and redecorating it; if Naomi will still help me do that.
I need to get on with my life, and marrying you isn’t the right way for me to go forward with it. No offence or anything; I love you Scott, but I could never be married to you. Plus… how horrible would it be for the two of us to have to stay single the whole time we were married? Not even dating anyone else. That would be rough on us both. My career comes first, so I hope it doesn’t affect you too badly, but I had to make this choice for myself and my future. I’m not going to marry you.” She sounded almost sympathetic when she said it to him.
Relief washed over and through Scott like a tidal wave. “I have to be honest, I’m so glad that you said that, and that you were the one to make the decision. One of the things I was worried about was that you would feel obligated to marry me because you would be worried about my career. You have one of the biggest hearts I’ve ever known, and it would be something that I could see you doing; kind of taking one for the team here and marrying me to save my career, even if it was something that you didn’t want to do.
I thought you might feel like you had to, and I didn’t want you to make the wrong choice on my behalf, just because we’re friends. So, that’s a relief. Also, this takes huge pressure off of me. I won’t have to worry that because of me, neither of us could ever be with someone we are in love with or want to be with, because we’re locked into a high profile marriage that would prevent us from having a relationship with anyone but each other.”
“Well, I’m glad that I could be the one to help us both. You’re a nice guy, Scott, but you’re not the right one for me. I don’t even know if there is a right one for me. What I do know is that I’m super focused on my singing career, and that is my biggest priority.” She sounded happy and just as relieved as Scott felt. He was glad to hear it in her voice.
“Okay. Well, I’ll call Harold and let him know… and, you know, I’ve been so angry with that idiot reporter down at the Times that I think I’ll call his supervisor and get him into some trouble for printi
ng a story about us that he didn’t check on. He’s printing false information; we aren’t engaged, and maybe it will be enough to get him off of our backs.” Scott was feeling better about it all the time.
“Sounds good. I think I’m going to go make sure that I still have a decorator, if you don’t mind.” Jennifer laughed nervously and Scott frowned with chagrin.
“Yeah, that’s good. Go talk to her. I need to try to straighten things out with her too, if I can. I’m not sure we can fix what has been broken between us, but she’s worth trying for.” He said goodbye to Jennifer and ended the call.
Harold was upset that Scott and Jennifer had decided not to get married, and he felt that his brilliant maneuver to save both of their careers had been thwarted beyond repair, but he told Scott that he would try to think of something else; some other way that they could fix all of the problems that were plaguing Scott and his career.
Scott called the Times and had a long conversation with the editor-in-chief, who apologized profusely over the reporter who had been printing nonstop stories about him, Jennifer, Naomi, and Cora. He even admitted to Scott that Naomi had put a restraining order on the reporter. The editor-in-chief told Scott that the reporter had gone too far one too many times, and that he wasn’t willing to risk the integrity of the news that they printed by keeping such a scandalous writer on his staff.
He said that the man would be out of the door that day, and that Scott and no one else, would have to worry about him being on their heels again afterward. Scott thanked him, and after he ended the call, he felt that things were finally going as right as they could be, at least a little bit, and the world wasn’t quite as heavy as it had felt to him the night before.
***
Jennifer walked into Summit Interior Design with her heart in her throat, and she hoped that she wouldn’t be thrown out on sight. Looking around she saw a young lady sitting at a desk near the door. The young lady looked up at her and smiled, holding her forefinger up to indicate that she would be just a moment, as she finished her phone call.
Once the call was done, she hung up the phone and looked back at Jennifer. Her pleasant smile faded from her mouth and her eyes grew fully wide as she stared.
“Oh my god. You’re Jennifer Jones,” she said barely above a whisper.
Jennifer smiled. She often got that kind of response. She nodded. “I am… or at least, that’s what it says on my driver’s license. Is Naomi here, by chance?” she asked, looking around the room.
Keisha nodded, visibly trying to collect herself. “Uh… yes. She’s here. She’s in the kitchen right now, I think.” Keisha looked at Naomi’s empty desk and then at the kitchen door which was partially open, and she confirmed what she thought. “Yes, she’s in there. I can see her.”
Jennifer raised an eyebrow. “Would it be all right if I go in there to talk with her please?” she asked, wondering how much the girl before her knew about everything that had happened with Scott and Naomi, and hoping that it was nothing or close to nothing.
Keisha looked uncertain for a moment, but then grinned and nodded. “Yeah, I guess that would be okay. Go ahead and go back there.”
Jennifer gave her a nod of thanks and walked to the kitchen, and she thought she could feel Keisha watching her go the entire way. She reached the door and knocked on it gently, stepping in partway. Naomi was in the room alone, washing out a teacup in the sink.
“Naomi… hi. I was hoping that we could speak in private. There are some things I think we should probably discuss.” Jennifer gave her a friendly smile, and stepped all the way through the door into the room, closing the door behind her.
Naomi turned with a start and blinked in surprise at the sight of Jennifer Jones standing in the kitchen of her business. She never had clients in the kitchen, and only rarely at the office. Her heart began to pound and a wave of nausea washed over her.
“Yes, of course… please, come in and sit down.” She was grateful that her manners kicked in immediately, because her mind was going a million miles an hour down a rollercoaster, and it felt like there was no way to stop it. “May I get you something to drink?”
