CHAPTER 5
~Luke~
JANE WALKS OUT of the coffeehouse and as much as I want to go after her, not only to spend more time with her but also to fix whatever made her expression fall, I don’t. Instead, I sit where she was, the seat still warm, and watch her walk down the sidewalk.
There’s something between us, so much unfinished business, making me wonder if it was a mistake taking on this project. I talked myself into going after this movie when I read the script as if that could justify the personal situation I’ve purposely put myself in.
This isn’t going to be easy, not with all these feelings that aren’t just lingering but strangling me.
Focus.
Perspective.
I need both right now. I need to do my job. Set personal feelings aside and concentrate on this film.
First or last resort, I’m not sure, but I know I’m owed a truckload of bro-favors, so I make the call.
* * *
“WHAT THE FUCK am I doing?’’
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“Why can’t I just let her go?”
“Why can’t you just let her go?”
I send Danny a hard glare. “Why are you mimicking me?”
“Seemed about as helpful as what you were doing.” He takes his glass and tops it off with beer from the pitcher.
“I have no idea what I’m doing. I need advice.”
Danny pushes my beer closer. “Drink. That’s the only advice you need right now.”
I drink, but I don’t feel better.
He refills my pint glass and then signals the bartender for another. Eyeing me cautiously, I think he can tell I’m on the brink of… of… What the fuck am I on the brink of? Fuck. Jane’s got my mind all fucked up.
Danny takes another sip, and then sets his glass down loud enough to make me look up. He leans back, and smirks. “There’s nothing I can say that you don’t already know. Sure, I can tell you what you want me to tell you. Let’s try that route first. Hey Luke,” he starts, “stop fucking around and go after the woman. You can lie to yourself all you like, but your feelings for her run deep. They always have and they always will.”
“I can’t just go after her. She left me once. Why would I set myself up to let that happen twice?”
“But you just answered your own question. You didn’t argue the fact of your feelings for her. You argued setting yourself up to be hurt again. No one wants to be hurt. It sucks. I get it. But,” he says, “you don’t get the good without working through the bad. So you have to decide if this is your shot at getting her back or if it’s your chance to close that book and move on.”
“I hate when you get all real and sensible on me. I was hoping you’d tell me to fuck her to get her out of my system,” I deadpan.
“There’s that option too.” He laughs. “Do you know your shooting schedule?”
“The finances are basically in place since—”
“Since you got a loan to make it happen.”
“It was worth it.”
“Does she know?”
“It’s only a small part.”
“How much?”
“Two hundred K.”
He whistles. “Will you see it back?”
“Definitely. It’s a good film, which makes it a good investment. With the right cast in place, it will do well.”
“When do you start?”
“I start working full-time this Monday and I told the other producers that we can start soon if they get us a director.”
“That seems fast.”
“Indies. We don’t have the overhead like big studio movies.”
“Where does it shoot?”
“Austin for the main shoot and New York if we get the financing for the exteriors.”
“Ahh. At least it’s a city where you only have to be as close as you want to be.”
Close.
Very close.
“I’m fucked, right?”
He taps his pint against mine, and smiles. “Sounds like it.”
We polish off two baskets of hot wings while watching the rest of the game. Just before the final two minutes on the clock, he says, “Let me ask you something.”
“Okay.”
“I know the basics of why you broke up, but what really caused the breakup with Jane? I mean, you guys didn’t seem to fight much so I was surprised when she left.”
Jane shouts from across the living room, “Ten years. I’ve wasted ten years of my life waiting on you. Are we not committed? We live together, Luke. We’ve been together since we were sixteen. You either see a future together or you don’t.”
“I do. I just—”
“You just what? What could possibly be holding you back at this point?”
“I’m not ready to start a new life. I finally feel like I’m in control of this life. What if we change and it changes us? After marriage, it’s kids. I’m not ready for that.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I don’t want us to change. What we have is good.”
With tears streaming down her face, she lowers her voice, the fight gone from her body as her shoulders slump. “That’s where you’re wrong. It’s not been good for me for a while and you haven’t even noticed.”
“I was building a career,” I tell Danny. “She was building a life. I used to think those were one in the same. That we were working toward the same goal.” I turn my gaze to the pint, my life as murky as the beer. “Once she left, I realized how wrong I was. But by then it was too late.”
Looking up, I see the sympathy in his eyes. He understands, which is why I called him. He also lets me sit in my own admission a bit longer, knowing I don’t need the commentary.
He finally says, “All of that is in the past. It’s the present and the future that matter. You have a choice to make.”
“I have no more options. She’s engaged.”
“I think it’s a ring of convenience, not one of love… you know that soul mate kind of love, and I’m pretty sure you guys qualify.”
“Way too sappy, man.”
“At least we don’t have to hug it out again.”
Standing up, I say, “Yet.”
He pays for the food and drinks, and replies, “Don’t threaten me.”
“Ha! Like that one time wasn’t for you.”
Knocking my shoulder as he passes, he chuckles. “Me? That was all you, bro.”
It’s true. It was. But I can’t let him know that. “Thanks for the brews.”
I smile as he rubs his stomach. “I leave for a shoot in three days, so I had to squeeze in the good stuff before I have to show off these abs.”
“You live a hard fucking life, my model friend.”
“Eh.” He shrugs. “Someone’s got do it.” Starting to walk backward, seriousness takes over his jovial nature. “And for the record, you don’t need my advice or anyone else’s. You know what you should do. You just need to let yourself do it.”
“So I should break up an engagement?”
“I didn’t say that, but you sure did.” He gives me a small salute. “See ya when I’m back in town.”
“See ya.”
On the drive home I wonder if what I did was the right thing for me and for Jane. Going after this project means more time with Jane and I can’t help but wonder if subconsciously, I planned it that way. The script is solid. Her best work yet. I know it will be a success, but deep down I start to think seeing her daily may be torture for the soul.
It’s too late now to worry about that.
When I get home, I print out the manuscript. The best thing for a scattered brain is work. Pulling out my tabs and markers I start marking up the script. I have a method to my madness and color-coding is the glue to it.
* * *
THIRTY DAYS SLIP away with no personal contact with Jane. I’m sure she’s had a million things to do like I have. My personal life has become non-existent. My sex life is the worst it’s been in years. I’m edgy, but for some reason unable to make myself go out, and my little black book of numbers stored on my phone doesn’t appeal. I did email her a few times with questions regarding the script, but we don’t talk.
Professional.
We keep it professional.
I miss her.
Financing is secured and an up-and-coming director is brought onboard. I lose my salary in order pay for him. It’s a gamble just like the loan, but I’m confident it will pay off in my favor.
Ian Burke is young and ambitious, a little cocky from what I’ve seen in interviews and at Sundance, so basically me a few years ago. His films are artistic in style—the magic caught in the details. As for lead actors, a couple names have been tossed around and two have already passed. I think I can get one actress. I know she would do a solid job, but she comes with personal entanglements that concern me.
“Jessica Pyles,” Ian says. “We’ve got to have her.”
“I’m still working on it.”
“What does that mean? Where exactly are we in discussions with her?”
“She hasn’t returned my calls.”
He looks at me. “So nowhere?”
“I’ll get her signed on.”
Ian walks out of the office and I pick up my phone again to call her. This time she answers. “What do you want?”
“I want to talk.”
“You didn’t want to talk the last time I saw you. As a matter of fact, I think your words were ‘Get out of my house before I call the cops.’”
Clingy is an understatement. She was ready to marry me after one night. I briefly feared for my life when I found out she had called my mother to tell her we were coming for a visit. It wasn’t a pretty morning for either of us after that. “I thought it was a one-night stand, Jessica.”
“What gave you the impression that I do one-night stands? I’m a celebrity, Luke.”
Distinctly remembering how she grabbed me at the Vanity Fair Oscar after-party, telling me to take her home and fuck her might have given me that impression. However, right now I need her, so pissing her off might not be the best route to go. I suck up my pride. “I’m sorry.”
“You are?” Her voice perks up.
“I am. I’m also happy to hear you and Ryan are so happy together. Actually that’s what I’m calling about. You and Ryan.”
* * *
ONE WEEK LATER, the deals are sealed. We have our stars signed on.
Ian tosses the script down on the conference table. We’ve been working on it for hours. He pushes it toward me, then leans back in his chair and rubs his eyes. “I’m wiped.”
I drop my head into my hands, my eyes burning from the above fluorescents. “It’s late. I’m tired. Let’s pick up where we left off tomorrow.”
A knock on the door draws our attention.
Jane.
Seeing her in the doorway, my body is on alert, my heart racing just from the sight of her. “Jane?”
“Sorry for interrupting.” She shifts uncomfortably.
Ian pushes back from the table after spying her over his shoulder. When he gets a good look, he stands, his hand out as he moves closer. “Hi, I’m Ian Burke.”
She smiles, the act itself reminding me of how much I missed her. “Hello. I’m Jane Lewis. You’re the director.”
“And you’re the screenwriter,” Ian replies, suddenly seeming wide-awake with his eyes locked on Jane. My Jane. “The pleasure is mine. We have a meeting this week, right?”
“Yes, we do.” she says, glancing to me.
“Would you like to meet now?”
“I know it’s late. I hate to bother you now. I actually stopped by to talk to Luke regarding a few scenes.”
Not liking the direction of this, I walk over and direct her back to the door. “Why don’t we go to my office to discuss those scenes? Ian was just about to leave.”
He pipes up, “I’m good for a bit longer. I think I just got a second wind. Why don’t we stay at the conference table to discuss them?”
Her eyes go from me to him and back again waiting for me to respond. “It’s fine.”
“Thanks,” she replies, taking a seat.
He takes his seat again as she settles in the chair across from him and I sit at the head of the table. Not liking his obvious attention to her, I change seats to sit next to her as she pulls the script from her bag. Only Jane Lewis has the power to make jealousy rear its ugly head in me. “What scenes do you want to go over?”
The script is tapped on the table and laid flat in front of us. She points to something on the page, but I’m still staring at her. Damn, she’s beautiful. Is her hair lighter? She’s wearing more makeup than she usually does and it makes me wonder where she’s been today.
“Luke?” My eyes meet hers and a soft smile appears. “The script.”
Caught. Her copy of the script is coded like mine, the same colorful tabs hanging out the sides and top. It makes me miss the nights we’d lain in bed, working alongside each other. We would stay up until all hours debating and working out scenes until they came together, until we came together.
God, I took everything for granted back then.
I took her for granted.
“What do you think?” she asks.
My eyes lift to hers again, responding to my name spoken from her mouth that sounds more like a melody than used in a professional meeting. “What?”
Ian cuts in, “There’s this park in Austin that can double as an entrance to Central Park. We can keep the scene if you think it’s vital.”
She replies with conviction, “I think it matters to the story, to her character growth.”
“Done. We’ll keep it,” he replies easily, as if budgets don’t matter and he has the final say.
Thanks, Ian. Now I have to be the bad guy. “We can’t guarantee that. It’s not in our budget currently so I’ll propose it to the other producers and let them go over the numbers. Are you willing to cut something else to make this scene happen?”
Holding the script to her chest, she shakes her head. “I don’t want to if we can make it work.”
I nod, not wanting to disappoint her. “We’ll try. What other scenes?”
We spend the next forty-five minutes discussing tweaks and changes, little things that add to the visuals and setting of the scenes. I love that she dreams in such vivid color, her world and the sky always one in the same. She’s enchanted me wholeheartedly as I see the woman I loved—love—so fiercely reemerge as if she’s been asleep for years. She’s animated, and playful, laughing, and smiling.
The problem is—Ian is enchanted too, hanging on to every word she speaks as if it’s gospel sent to save his soul. When she stands to leave, he offers to walk her to her car, beating me to the punch.
Cocky asshole.
As we walk out of the building, I look across the parking lot and see her car next to mine, and I smirk. Right when I’m about to say something, Ian interrupts my reunion with Jane again, and says, “I’m starving. Want to grab some dinner and we can continue our chat?”
I’m left gobsmacked by his fucking nerve. Apparently Ian, who was tired earlier, has all the energy in the world now. Because of Jane.
And when I hear her say, “Yes,” to him, I’m left with an overwhelming jealousy twisting in my chest causing it to puff. Fuck him and his private plans with my Jane. “I could use a drink,” I interrupt like he has so much tonight.
Ian shoots me a look that lets me know I’m not welcome to join their little party of two. Fortunately Jane smiles and says, “Great. I can meet you both there.” And just like that, all is right in the world again.
While Ian huffs toward his car nearby, I catch up to her. “I can walk you.”
“I’m glad I caught you tonight. I feel a lot better about things.”
Caught. Caught me lost in the sea green of her eyes, the petal pink of her lips… She caught me all right.
“I will support this project” I will support you. “I’ll keep your vision as much as I can.” When we reach her car, I stop a few steps back as she leans against the door of a new BMW. “Nice car.”
Glancing back at it, her shoulders have eased, either from the late hour or because she’s comfortable around me. I’m hoping for the latter. “Thanks.” Her hair has fallen in front of one of her eyes. Instinctually, I reach out as if I have the right, and tuck it behind her ear. Her eyes don’t leave mine, her hands don’t protest, and she remains standing there, looking at me with eyes that if I didn’t know better reflect my own feelings toward her.
But I do know better.
She’s engaged.
She’s not one I can have those feelings for any longer. When she sealed her future with Lawrence she sealed my fate as well. Fuck.
With our romantic fate determined, I blow a breath, and step back again. “I’ll see you in a few.”
“Hey, Luke, maybe we can ride together?”
She catches me again. This time I’m smiling ear to ear. I nod toward my car, hope returning too fast to be healthy. But I’d rather feel this than disappointment. “C’mon, you, I’ll drive.”