Chapter Nine

 

Josh wasn’t home when I finally woke up on the couch next to Tamara. We’d stayed up for hours drinking beer and talking. I gathered my clothes and woke Lisa and Amy, telling them the bad news. Tamara felt horrible for opening the phone. “I shouldn’t have read the text,” she said.

I knew she felt like it was all her fault, but it wasn’t. It was his. I was grateful that she’d read it. At least now I knew he wasn’t perfect. He was a liar.

The construction crew banged away at the house as we moved back in. It still smelled of fire and had a strange, eerie feel to it with black soot still lingering in the crevices of the walls that hadn’t been torn out yet.

“We’re home,” Tamara said.

That word didn’t have the same excitement to it when she said it as it had when Josh had used it.

“What do we do about the shoot next week?” Tamara asked.

Ugh.

“I can do it,” I assured her.

“I don’t want to make you do that,” she said softly.

I’d forgotten about the shoot Josh and I had together. It was the final set of marketing campaigns for the brand, and I dreaded having to be in his arms.

“It’ll be fine,” I said sternly.

“This place is awful,” Lisa moaned.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to a hotel?” Tamara asked.

“No. You give that money to the charity you planned,” I insisted.

I knew Amy and Lisa weren’t pleased that the money wasn’t being used to secure a fancy hotel. I wasn’t real pleased myself, but I knew giving meant a lot to Tamara, and even though Josh turned out not to be such a great boyfriend, he was a good man who’d taken us four girls in during our time of need.

We all stayed in one room, sharing a queen-sized bed each for two girls. It wasn’t the plush life we’d grown accustomed to while staying at Josh’s, but it was home. Real home.

After three days, Josh still hadn’t tried to contact me. I checked my phone often, to which Tamara would usually catch me and call me out. “Please, stop thinking about him,” she’d say softly.

I always agreed I would, but I never did. I thought about him all the time. I still couldn’t fathom that it had all been fake. I knew there was real emotion in his eyes, and those words he always looked like he was ready to say, but didn’t, I knew what they were.

Tamara took off for the studio, Lisa and Amy had already left for the day, and I had my movie. Why wasn’t I as excited about my lead role as before?

“Are you going to be okay tomorrow?” Tamara asked.

I nodded.

It was my scheduled shoot, the last one I’d ever have to do with Josh. Part of me dreaded the idea of seeing him, but that other part—oh, how it longed to be in his arms once again.

“I’m gonna stop by the station and drop off the check. I’ll make sure Josh will even show,” she said, her stress showing.

I remembered her warning me not to get too close. I felt bad that I hadn’t taken her advice. It hadn’t just ruined things for me, but possibly for her career, as well.

The director was surprisingly nice about letting me have the day to do the shoot. Things had slowed down, and I wasn’t sure if it was money, or some other reason that could possibly halt the production.

“Is the movie still set for March of next year?” I asked, receiving only a grumble from the producer.

“We’re planning to make a lot of headway next month, so expect to be working long hours,” he said.

I didn’t mind. What did I have to go home to?

I slipped into bed beside Tamara, who was already sleeping. It was late. Really late, and I hated to wake her. We had the shoot in the morning, and I was dying to know if she’d talked to Josh. I fell asleep not knowing if he would even be there.

My alarm blasted in my ear, causing me to jump up from my pillow in a panic. Today is the day. Fuck! I’m not ready. I can’t do this.

Tamara was already up, and even though I quickly dressed and ran downstairs, she was already gone. My heart raced as I assumed she’d snuck off, not wanting to face me for some reason. Was it because Josh wasn’t coming? Was it because he was?

I ran upstairs, showered, dressed, and fixed my hair and makeup, even though I knew Marcus would redo everything, saying it was horrific.

At the studio, Tamara worked on her camera and Marcus puckered his lips in disgust as he saw me walk in. “We have work to do,” he sighed, pulling my arm gently towards the dressing room.

“Is he here?” I whispered to Tamara as I walked by.

She smiled and nodded in the direction of his dressing room. “He’s here.”

I didn’t fight Marcus as he redid my makeup; I was too preoccupied with anxiety.

Once done, I stepped out into the studio to find Josh, gorgeous as ever, but more distant than I’d ever seen.

Tamara directed us on what to do, mainly because it no longer felt natural to either of us to start. Once in his arms, my body melted, my heart softened, and that familiar chemistry returned as it it’d never left.

Our lips met, only for camera’s sake, but feeling more like they were meant to be together. “That’s it,” Tamara said at the last shot. They were dreadful words that I hated to hear.

“Can I talk to you?” Josh asked, his blue eyes filled with that familiar emotion once again.

“Yes,” I agreed without hesitation.

“I’ll wait for you outside,” he said softly.

I dressed quicker than I’d ever done, anxious to hear what Josh had to say. An apology? An excuse? A lie? I was a mess.

Outside, Josh stood on the sidewalk, leaning against the concrete wall. My knees weakened as I approached him, my heart swelling in my chest with each step.

“I wanted to apologize,” he said softly.

“Me too,” I said, not sure what exactly I was apologizing for.

“My ex was extremely jealous. She kept tabs on my phone, snooped through my stuff, and even hired a detective to follow me at one time,” he explained.

“I get it. There’s no excuse for invading someone’s privacy,” I agreed, feeling horrible that I somehow was the one on trial, and not lying, cheating Josh.

“Tamara told me you weren’t the one who looked at the phone. She told me you didn’t want her to,” he said sweetly.

I couldn’t believe she threw herself under the bus like that. “She did it for me,” I said quickly, defending my friend’s actions.

“I know. But, that girl,” he said slowly.

I took a deep breath as I waited to hear who this woman was, what she meant to him, and why she was probably in his bed waiting for him at home. Home. Ugh!

“We hooked up a couple times after my breakup. She lives in Atlanta, but visits L.A. maybe once or twice a year. The last time I even spoke to her was over nine months ago. I don’t want her,” he said.

His hand reached out for mine. I didn’t hesitate to let his fingers curl into mine. His eyes didn’t break free from their lock on mine as he spoke.

“The only girl I want is standing right here in front of me,” he sighed.

I leapt into his arms, pushing my lips against his and feeling his heartbeat heavy through his chest. “I love you, Josh,” I whispered in his ear.

“I love you, too, Emily,” he gasped.

“Let’s go home,” he said softly.