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I am intelligent.
I will stay away because that’s what good girls do.
Chapter Twelve
It’s an unusually dreary day in Los Angeles. The rain is falling lightly, creating a humid atmosphere and overcasting the normally shining sun.
I’m sprawled across my bed, head resting on my pillow while I stare up at the ceiling with Mama on speakerphone.
“It sounds like you’ve settled in well, sweetie. I knew you would be perfect for that role,” she says as I listen attentively.
“I guess. What about you, Mama? The nurse’s report looks positive. I received it only yesterday.”
A small sigh escapes and echoes through the speaker. “The grounds are beautiful. The staff is wonderful. It’s just that everyone loves to socialize, and sometimes I simply want to sit and read.” It’s the most honest thing she’s said during our call. “Never mind me rambling, tell me how your brother is doing? I spoke to him last night. His gig went well, and I think the music scouts were impressed.”
“You spoke to him last night?” My slight annoyance with Flynn prompts me to sit up. He never tells me a thing. In fact, he storms out of the apartment in his usual dramatic way every time I see him lately. “He’s quite busy. We don’t get much time to chat.”
I hate that I’ve just lied to Mama.
“He called me, same time he calls me every night.”
“He calls you every night?”
“Honey, what’s going on? You sound upset.” Mama softens her voice, worried.
“Nothing. I mean, he’s just a lot of work. I don’t know how you deal with him.”
Mama laughs, soft and angelic, easing my frustration. I miss her terribly. I’m never shy about telling her this.
“Give him time. The two of you never see eye to eye on much. Let him be, and it will work out. There was a time when you were a handful. A parent’s job never ends.”
“Again, I’m sorry. I don’t think I understood the magnitude of being responsible for someone until we came here. He got a piercing, Mama.”
“I know. He told me, actually showed me a picture.”
Flynn’s secret phone calls with Mama are getting on my nerves. “Nice, so what else is new?”
We spoke for a few more minutes until the ‘Jenga’ crew called Mama for their Monday game. I hang up, grabbing my pillow and staring at the wall.
It has been three days since that night with Wesley. I haven’t heard a peep from him, resorting to Googling his whereabouts only to find out he’s in Louisiana filming a movie. I feel pathetic for doing it, even more pathetic for ignoring him because I think giving him a taste of his own medicine will be fun.
I promise myself I won’t think about him. I don’t need that complication in my life. It isn’t like I’m in love with him or anything, I’m just looking for someone to have fun with. I am deprived of that bad-boy interaction, at least, that’s how I sell it to myself.
Phoebe would have given me the exact advice, though this time, I purposely hold this from her.
We talk almost every day, mainly about people back home or her love life. She’s intrigued with my job, begging me to tell her who my boss is. I also choose to withhold that information. If Phoebe knew anything that went on, she’d book herself a one-way ticket and be permanently crashing on my couch.
It’s easy to busy myself with work, though every time I’m alone with Emerson, I want to ask her questions about Wesley and them. My mind burns with curiosity, but I know we have a professional relationship and don’t want her to think that anything is going on because it isn’t.
We are nothing and whatever went on in our few encounters is just that—nothing. A momentary lapse of judgment on both our ends seeking something from a stranger.
By day five, I’m able to catch a few more hours of sleep, which improves my mood. The more I distance myself from Wesley, the easier it has become. After lying in bed for an hour and watching the sunrise, I make the executive decision to completely forget about him, full stop. A combination of ‘in the too-hard basket’ and my late-night call with Liam.
Liam wasn’t shy in telling me how much he missed me, suggesting that we FaceTime. It was fun, a walk down memory lane until he wanted to take it a step further.
“I miss you, all of you.”
His words, sweet, full of honesty, made it difficult for me to lie to him. I missed him, but the guilt will overcome me, and I struggled to say the words back.
