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Chapter Seventeen
Simon
I knew I would have some explaining to do after my scene at Bertha’s. I wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t let me show my face there again, local celebrity or not. The thought makes me scoff. Even the words local celebrity shouldn’t be something in my vocabulary. But now that I am on TV, I have to be careful about what I do and say.
I knew this going into the show. I thought about the different aspects of having this part of my life broadcasted, forever out there for my daughter to watch, for anyone to see. But I didn’t really have a choice, did I? I want that money for my charity. That’s the only reason I’m going through with this debacle. Having to see Boris on a weekly basis is me just paying penance for some awful thing I did in a past life.
We solemnly file into the house, Alice shutting the door quietly behind herself, which is somehow worse than her slamming it. I can’t tell exactly how she is feeling, but I tell myself that’s okay because I don’t want to know her well enough to be able to pinpoint the emotions on her face. She’s seen enough emotion out of me today, but something tells me that I’m about to have to talk about it.
“Ivy, would you mind running up to your room for a bit? I want to have a word with your dad,” Alice murmurs, bending in front of Ivy and rubbing her hands up and down Ivy’s arms in a calming gesture.
Ivy nods with a smile and then bounds up the stairs.
Alice walks past me, into the kitchen, and pulls open the refrigerator. She grabs an open bottle of wine and pops the cork out. I watch her, so at home in the kitchen already, and it feels weird. Kind of nice, like a warmth in my chest, which I find myself rubbing with one hand. She pulls two glasses from the cabinet, fills them halfway, and then looks at me.
“Want to go out back? By the pool?”
I nod, and she picks up the wine, brushing past me and flooding my senses with her perfume that I spent time trying to ignore all day, being in an enclosed car with her. With a sigh, I turn and follow.
She hands me a glass that started sweating as soon as the warm summer air hit the chilled wine, and we both sit on the same loungers from our last conversation out here.
I hope this one doesn’t end the same way—with me angry and stomping off. I know that I’ve been silent on this whole issue, but it seems like it’s bound and determined to follow me and make me talk about it. I don’t relish this part—reliving a dark spot in my past. It’s not all dark, of course. I do have Ivy because of Jane, but that’s about all I have.
I twirl the wine for a moment before tipping the glass back and downing the entire thing in a few swallows. I need something stronger.
“Want mine too?” Alice asks.
I glance over at her, taking in her wide eyes that are focused on me. She holds her drink out, and I shake my head.
“No, that’s all yours,” I say, hating how awkward I feel. I usually don’t do awkward. I avoid situations like this, but it seems like this one couldn’t be put off. I’m in this circumstance now, and I don’t know … maybe it will feel good to get this off my chest.
I haven’t dated since Jane, and this is a huge part of it. Having to rehash the past seems like something I didn’t care enough to do to find another person. But maybe that was selfish of me. Maybe I made Ivy miss out because I was too scared to talk about my feelings.
But Alice and I aren’t a real couple.
Will that make it easier?
I reach up and rub the back of my neck, very aware of Alice’s eyes still fastened on me. I wish I had some more to drink.
“Sorry about what happened back there,” I say and finally look at her.
She’s trailing a finger around the rim of her wineglass, her head cocked to the side. I have the sudden urge to close the distance between us and kiss her.
Fuck, where did that come from?
“Why does Boris hate you?” she asks.
I follow the curve of her bottom lip with my eyes, to the corner, and up around to her cupid’s bow. Then, I notice she’s not talking anymore but waiting for me to answer her.
“Ah, that. Boris and I go back to high school. We weren’t friends, but we did have something in common.”
“Jane?”
“Yeah,” I say softly, glancing out over the pool, “Jane.”
“So, is this a situation where you stole his girl?”
I scoff, remembering our high school days. How young we were, naive. “No, it was more of an unrequited love story for Boris. After she picked me, he couldn’t stand it and had it out for me. I think this is only another one of his games, coming back and having me on the show. Just a way to fuck with me one more time.”
