Lucía
I’m getting ready to leave the house when I see the slip of paper with my name on it. It stops me in my tracks. I pick it up and run my fingers over it before I read it. Reece wrote this. With the hands that had been on my body. Holding me, while he told me that he wanted me.
His handwriting is unexpectedly neat and restrained. I scan the short note.
Come to his office? As if. So much happened this morning. My shower didn’t help me process any of that. Reece wants me. The same way I want him. But . . . his ex-wife. She wasn’t acting like an ex. Not that I have much experience with relationships, but she looked at me like some dirty side-piece.
I walk out back and hop in my golf cart to head toward the offices. I let my eyes scan the beach as I drive. I can’t imagine ever taking this view or these sounds for granted. The waves are lapping at the beach gently this morning. The gulls call to each other as they frolic above the surf. It’s cool here this morning, but the breeze feels amazing as I zip along the path.
I pass the main house where Reece lives and see that all the lights are on and his golf cart is still there. I wonder if she’s there, too?
I can’t really afford to let myself get distracted or involved in their drama. I feel a pull toward Reece. We’ve become friends and now I know that we’re also both fighting an attraction. He’s become one of my favorite people. He’s smart, he’s compassionate, he’s funny and he’s got a great laugh. You know how the say there are some people you just have chemistry with? I thought that was just a saying. But now, I know it’s real. We feel good together. Not just romantically. But in every way.
I know I was holding back—I didn’t think he was interested. But I’m not sure what his reason could be. It could be my status, but he hasn’t seemed fazed by that. Maybe it’s my age. Or, because I’m a nobody in Hollywood and he only dates A-Listers. Maybe it’s because I work for him. Or maybe it’s because he’s still not over Fabienne. I want to know, but I don’t want to push it. Maybe it’s for the best that nothing happened between us. We’re at a crucial point in the screenwriting process. Next week, we are headed to LA to share our script progress with some of the other studio executives. I’m nervous and excited. I think we’ve done good work and I hope I’ve proven myself a little. But this meeting is important, if it goes really well, we could get the green light right away. That would mean we’d be moving on to casting and then production. It’s totally surreal to think that my book, my little book that was written as fiction, but is inspired by my life, is going to be a fucking movie.
I squeal as I drive. It’s been hard work. But then again, I’ve worked hard my whole life and always will. But all of this is so much more than even my wildest dreams could have conjured.
I’m on cloud nine as I park my golf cart, thinking about the book and screenplay has totally lifted my spirits. I almost skip into the office and head straight for the elevator. Just as I hit the call button, I hear familiar voices coming from around the corner. It’s Reece and Fabienne. My pulse spikes and like a bird struck by an arrow in mid-flight, my good mood comes crashing down. I brace myself for impact as they come around the corner, toward the elevator. They look so . . . right. I didn’t let myself really look at her this morning. She’s even more beautiful in person than in print or on screen. Her hair is incredible; her skin is flawless. She looks like she belongs next to Reece. I don’t feel bad about the way I look, but I know I don’t look like that. When he finally sees me, Reece stops short.
“Hey, did you get my note?” he asks. He’s looking at me intently, and I can see the worry in his eyes. It verges on desperation.
“Yes. I did.” I nod and start to move toward him. But Fabienne reaches him before I do. Her emerald green eyes livid as she watches me, daring me to step closer. Reece doesn’t seem to notice her as he searches my face. But I do. And suddenly, I’m Ana Maria again. I’m back on that playground and the thing I want most is being taken from me.
I feel hot tears prick the back of my eyes. Shame wells in my chest and forces me to look away. “Luc,” Reece starts to say. Two men join us in front of the elevator and he stops. They both greet him and Fabienne. I stand there, wishing the ground would open up and swallow me whole.
And then the elevator dings and the doors open. We all step on, I press the button for my floor and quickly move to stand across from them. I keep my eyes on the door as the elevator begins its short climb to my floor. You could cut the awkward tension in the air with a knife. I can feel Reece’s eyes on me, but I can’t look at him. Not with her there.
The elevator stops on my floor and the doors pop open right away. I step off without another glance in their direction. My heart is racing and my palms are sweating. Those thirty seconds in the elevator with them felt like torture. I take a big gulp of air as my constricted lungs ease open.
“Lucía, I’ll be in my office,” Reece calls after me. I don’t turn around. I can’t. I don’t need to see them standing together again. That image is burned into my brain.
I head to my office and turn my computer on. Dan and Todd are late, as usual, so I pull out my notes from yesterday and start responding to emails from Sol, and various blogs and news outlets asking me for interviews.
I’m about to close my inbox, when I see a new email pop up. It’s from Reece. My mouse hovers over the message as I decide whether or not to open it. I don’t want to have this conversation now. I have a lot of work to get ready for our meeting in LA.
“Hey, early bird,” Dan calls as he and Todd come bounding in, coffees in hand. That decides it for me. I’ll read it later.
Three hours later and we’ve gotten through the toughest scene in the book—the sequence of Julio’s arrest, death and their father’s deportation. I’ve been dreading today. Writing those scenes in the book had been cathartic. But today, it was like reliving a nightmare. Todd and Dan were also moved by it, but they have no clue that this is my life story. And after spending hours having to be clinical in my approach to how we constructed this part of the screenplay, I’m emotionally spent. I tell them that we should take an extra hour for lunch.
I grab my phone and walk outside. My fingers tremble as I finally let myself open the email I haven’t been able to stop thinking about. Every time I let my mind relax while we were writing, Reece’s name would pop into my head.
To:
From
Subject: Today
Fifty-five,
I need to talk to you . . . but something’s come up. I’m headed back to LA right now. I’ll email or call when I have the chance.
R.
My heart sinks. He’s gone back to LA. With Fabienne probably. My heart twists in my chest at the thought. I don’t know what this means. Did I misunderstand what happened in the pool? Should I call him and just ask?
I walk back to my desk and sit down. Dan is nowhere to be seen and Todd is busy typing away at his computer. He gives me a very fleeting, but assessing glance before his eyes go back to his screen. “What’s wrong, sweets? You look like you lost your puppy.”
I’m in over my head here, and I’m tempted to ask them for advice but I don’t want to gossip or talk about Reece. I bite my lip and look up at him. “Well, can I give you a scenario and see what you think?”
“Scenario for the screenplay or real life?” he asks as he types on his computer.
“Real life,” I respond.
His fingers come to an immediate halt and his head snaps to me, his hazel eyes twinkling. “Oooh, yes. Real life! Hit me with it.”
I pause and try to think of how to phrase my scenario without giving away who I’m talking about.
“I know this girl. And there’s a man she likes. A lot.”
“Like, in what way? The way I like you or the way I like Jason Momoa?” he asks.
I roll my eyes at him. “I’m being serious, Todd.”
“Me too, girl. I never kid about Jason Momoa.”
“The latter,” I say impatiently. “As I was saying . . . she likes him, thinks he might like her back, but he’s got an ex who’s still hanging around and as soon as she shows up, he disappears. Should she call or just take a hint and leave him well enough alone?”
Todd considers me like he’s weighing his words very carefully. I look down, feeling foolish.
“You know what, forget it. It’s silly.”
“Oh, no, no . . . It’s not silly, Lucía,” he says reassuringly. “I’m just trying to think.”
Just then, Dan walks around the corner. “You’re thinking. God help us,” he says dryly as he drapes his long, lanky frame onto his chair. He looks at us and says, “What are you guys talking about?”
“Oh, Lucía’s just asking me for advice about her and Reece,” comes Todd’s nonchalant response.
“Ooh, what about her and Reece?” Dan says, with real excitement.
I sit up in my chair and gape at them, my heart beating triple time. “I never mentioned his name or said it was about me!” I shout at him.
“Calm your tits, kid. We’re not blind. We see you two making heart eyes at each other. Smiling as you walk by. When you first got here, I thought you must have fucked him for the job. He’s not really the casting couch type, but I figured that maybe you were too much of a temptation for him to resist.” He looks at me and bursts out laughing. “You should see your face. Your mouth is hanging open,” he says laughing.
I shut my mouth. “We don’t make heart eyes, nothing has ever even happened between us,” I protest.
“Hey, you’ve got real writing chops, kid, you don’t need to feel bad about anything,” says Todd, looking at me sympathetically.
“I don’t have anything to feel bad about. Nothing has ever happened between Reece and me. We’re friends,” I repeat emphatically.
Dan rolls his eyes and goes back to his computer. “Okay. Sure. Listen, you don’t need to tell us your business. But anyone with eyes can see how you get all calf-eyed when he’s around, and every time he looks at you, you’d think he’d never seen you before. He always does a double take.” They both laugh out loud as Dan does an impression of Reece. Whipping his head around and making his eyes bug out.
I groan and sink down in my chair.
“Hey, if you’re really not fucking . . . then you’ve got some pretty good mental foreplay going on. So, when you finally get to fucking—”
I cut him off. “Stop saying fucking. No one is fucking. Reece and I . . . we’re just friends.” I’m reeling on the inside. My protests are to convince myself as much as they are to convince them.
Todd gives Dan a knowing glance. “Oh, babe, you should relax. If you could see what we do, I think you’d rest a lot easier. And as for that ex of his. She’s history. Never say never, but I think she might really have to be the last woman on earth. She made his life a living hell.”
My curiosity is piqued. I want to know more, but I won’t gossip, especially not about Reece. When I don’t respond, Todd sighs and says, “Listen, here’s what I’d tell your friend: Don’t play games. If you want to call him, call him. If you’re wondering where you stand, ask him.”
“Okay, enough of this shit. I’ve got work to do,” says Dan as he slips his headphones on and faces his computer.
“Thanks, T.” I smile gratefully at him.
He smiles at me. “Don’t thank me yet. I’m sending you a bill for that little therapy session.” And then he turns back to his own computer.
I do the same. I open my email and write back to Reece.
To: RCarras
From: LVega
Subject: Re: Today
Reece, I’m sorry I missed seeing you before you left. Is everything okay? I want to talk to you, too. About what happened in the pool. Call me when you can.
LV.
I read it ten times before I press send. And then I wait. And wait. When, by the end of the day, Reece hasn’t responded, I feel so despondent that I decide I need another session of yoga tonight. The kinks and aches in my heart are telling me that they need to be worked out.
I’m in my golf cart on my way home when my phone’s alert tells me that I have an email. I stop the golf cart, right there in the middle of the path, and pull it out. It’s from him.
To: LVega
From: RCarras
Subject: Re: re: Today
LV,
I’m okay. My dad had a minor heart attack today. He’s okay now, but we had quite a scare this morning. I’ll be in LA for the next week or so, trying to get settled. Things are pretty hectic, so it’ll be difficult to do it this week, but we need to talk.
I meant what I said in the pool. I want to pick up where we left off. I’ll check on you tomorrow.
Night,
R.
My heart goes through a series of emotions as I read the letter. Fear, relief, disappointment, happiness, doubt and now worry. I can’t imagine what his morning was like. I know how much he idolizes his father.
I email him back right away
To: RCarras
From: LVega
Reece,
I’m so sorry about your dad. I’m glad he’s okay. Call me if you need anything.
I miss you,
LV
I waffled on adding that last sentence, but Todd told me not to play games. So, I won’t. I press send and start back down the path to the house.
I’m just walking into the house when my phone rings, I answer without looking at it.
“Hello?” I answer as I kick the door shut behind me and slip my shoes off.
“You miss me?” Reece’s deep voice responds. It’s gruff with fatigue, but I can hear the smile in it.
“I do. Reece, your dad, I’m so sorry. Are you all right?”
I walk into the house, turn all the lights on and walk to the fridge to pour myself a glass of water.
“It’s okay. He’s okay. And I’m just tired. It was mild and he got to the hospital really fast,” he says, sounding like he’s not quite convinced yet. “He’s in otherwise really good health, so he’s going to make a full recovery. But, Luc . . .” His voice trails off like he doesn’t want to finish his sentence.
“What? What else happened?” I demand, when he doesn’t say anything.
“I’m going to need to start working from the LA office again. I won’t be back in Malibu for a few weeks.”
I feel selfish for feeling so profoundly disappointed at this news. I try to disguise it. “Okay . . . well the screenplay’s coming along really well. I’ll make sure you get daily upda—”
“I’m not worried about the screenplay,” he says softly, but I can hear the frustration in his voice. “This morning, in the pool, I want to continue that and the conversation.” The gruffness is gone from his voice, and it resonates through me. And my heart smiles; full and wide.
“Me, too,” I respond and am surprised when my voice comes out as a whisper.
“Good. Let me spend the week getting things straight. And I’ll come up next weekend and take you to dinner again. And we’ll talk it out, face-to-face.”
“Sounds good, I can’t wait. Let me know how your dad is doing, okay?”
“I will. And I miss you, too Luc. Sleep tight.”
When I get into bed a few hours later, I’ve replayed our phone call so many times that I feel like it’s imprinted on my brain. Reece misses me. He didn’t leave because of Fabienne. I snuggle into my pillow floating on cloud nine.
This man, this amazing, gorgeous, funny and brilliant man wants me. As much as I want him, if not more. Whatever he’s thinks we’ve got to talk about—my age, the fact that I work for him, maybe even my status—whatever it is, we’ll be able to get over it.
I hope Todd’s right about Fabienne. I didn’t plan on any of this, but now that it’s happening, I want it so badly. I want Reece so badly.
I fall asleep with a smile on my face and a little tendril of hope starts to grow in my heart.