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It wasn’t that I’d lost Jessica to Bernardo; she had never been my future. I knew that, and apparently, so did she. Still, it was the callous way she’d announced it to the world, snapping pictures at Nobu, the Malibu place ‘to see and be seen.’ It most certainly shouted out to the world that she had left the so-so quarterback on the side of the road to hitch herself to a major Hollywood star who could drive her to the destination she sought. Someone who promised a smoother ride, a faster way to move from small independent films and bit parts to meaty roles, ensuring the world would remember her name. Well, guess what, sweetheart? No one will forget Jake Skyler’s name after our Super Bowl win.
Were Jessica and Bernardo still even together, or had he moved on? After all, she was almost middle-aged by his standards…she was a year and a half older than me, surely over the hill for Bernardo. Had he already dumped her before she’d had a chance to eke out a few rungs up the “fame” ladder? I’d unfollowed Jessica and certainly was not following Bernardo, but I hadn’t seen them pop up on any news feeds lately. Yet there was no doubt Rakell and I had been a topic of conversation on every tabloid show. Fuck, was Bernardo targeting me? Like I was some round 'em up guy for the big wig who gets to pick from my stock. Bullshit, not this one, old man— no, this one is my future. Plus, she’s too discerning and proud to let the promise of your influence sway her…right? Yet, hadn’t that been her profession…sucking up to men with influence? But that was different. It was a straightforward transaction. I shook my head again at the image of my scrunched, pained features. I just needed a shot of whiskey. Sleep wasn’t within reach; my brain would not allow that tonight.
Her distressed shouts emanating from my room jerked me out of my internal spiral, the what-ifs of her and Bernardo. I rushed out of the bathroom to the sound of her panicked cries.
“Dad, don’t listen, no…no,” she whimpered, cupping her hands over her ears as if blocking someone’s voice. “No, no, I won…I did it, Dad. I did it, I made it! Where are you? You were here,” she whined, confusion lacing her voice, writhing in the sheets like she was trying to break free. “Dad, I’m here,” she pleaded, her arms flying from her ears, hitting the mattress. “No, I didn’t mean…no!”
I plopped onto the bed and lay down next to her. “Shhh, Rakell, shhhhh.” I cupped her shoulders, my fingers gently massaging her skin as her breathing slowed. “Hey, hey you,” I said, whispering beside her, my other hand stroking her hip. “Shhhh, Sweets, shh.”
Her choppy breathing began to relax. She hushed, “Dad?” as she twisted in the bed, her eyes fluttering open, catching on to my face, no doubt picking up on the concern in my eyes. “Jake, it’s you. You showed up?” she murmured, her eyes squinting as if she were confused or adjusting to her awake state. Her eyes blinked, opening wider, this time scanning the room, then back on me. “Jake…I…” A bashful air infused her tone, but I sensed it was covering some internal turmoil I couldn’t ask about at that moment. I wanted to know what was happening, but her startled state seemed too vulnerable. I knew I needed to move past this to comfort her.
Slowly, I circled my arms around her, inching my torso against hers. “Sweets, you were dreaming…it sounded intense.” Thinking about the disbelief with her mid-dream question, “You showed up?” I brushed my lips against her forehead. “Yes, of course, I showed up. I’ll…” I swallowed my next words: I will always show up.
Damn, why didn’t I just say it? Isn’t that love? You just told this girl you love her, so what the hell does that look like? Your parents, right? They showed up for each other…there was no question that they loved each other.
“Sorry,” she said, tilting her chin to me. “I think I’m just overwhelmed with the audition and meeting Bernardo. I mean…” A low sigh left her lungs. “It’s Bernardo, and well, who am I? Some girl from a ranch…”
My spine went rigid listening to her placing Bernardo on a perch, seeing herself beneath him. Fuck that! My hands grasped her shoulders again; this time, there was an intensity in my touch, like a Little League coach convincing a first grader that they could hit a home run. “He doesn’t hold a candle to you. You are talented. You have worked for this and are one of the strongest people I know. Promise me this…”
“Mmmm?” she questioned, no doubt attuned to the strain in my voice, the way my fingers were clamped on her shoulders. “Jake?” she prompted again, her eyebrows arching in confusion.
Resting my chin on her head, I spoke into the muted darkness, the moonlight sifting in like a dull flashlight: “Bernardo is just a guy. Yes, he has a lot of money and influence in Hollywood, but that doesn’t make him better than any other person, and he doesn’t have power over you…no one does.” I could feel my heart pulsing in my neck. I fucking know the sway Bernardo has. That was my fear that she’d succumb to him for a taste of stardom. Damn it, NO! Forcing myself to control the angst bubbling in my chest, I took a breath, then worked to relax my grip on her shoulders. Once calm, I said, “You have power over you. Please, please don’t forget that.”
“Jake, it’s just that…I’ve wanted this for so long and…he can make or…”
“Don’t say he can break your career…no man can…you have already proven that…”
“Well, you wore me down,” she said, chuckling, dropping her face against my chest as if trying to infuse levity into the situation.
Her soft laugh was enough to yank me out of the swirl of anxious anger his name had elicited in me. Lifting her chin and touching my nose to hers, I tried to summon a light air to my voice, but it came out rough like I was unsure. “I did? But you should only be here if you want to be. I will always try to get my way; we all do. It’s up to you to say no, and it’s up to me to listen when you say no, to respect your ‘nos,’ to hear them, not to push…”
Tilting her head back from mine, she lifted her fingers to my lips, the side of her mouth turning upward. “Jake, I was kidding, and I am too tired to decipher the message in your words. I have no problem saying no to you…I think we have established that.”
God damn if that isn’t the truth. “Definitely,” I said with a sigh, laughing against her fingers. Then, I nipped the tips before she jerked them back. “You need to sleep, Sweets,” I uttered, pulling the covers up to her shoulders.
“I’m so worked up about this audition.” She arched her torso, flopping back on her pillow.
I knew how to calm her nerves; the absolute best thing you could do to release tension came to mind, but right now, even as attracted as I was to her, Bernardo's name hung like a banner in my brain. There was no way I could let a piece of shit like Bernardo Cappuccino into my bed. You can’t have her asshole!
“Turn on your side, Sweets, and I’ll rub your back. My mom used to do that for me when I was geared up for a game,” I said.
“That sounded…” A snarky, guttural amusement lit her tone. “I mean, I think your mom is great, but how babied can a grown man get?”
I lightly swatted her hip, internally laughing. “Not now. My mom doesn’t rub my back now. When I was young, like in grade school, when I played flag football. Jesus, I’m not that babied, anyway, just loved a lot, and…that’s not a bad thing.” Those words slid out before I thought about how they would make her feel. I knew there was tension between her and her mom, and she always raced past any conversation about her dad. “I mean …” I tried to assuage the pointedness in my last statement.
“No, you’re right.” I heard her gulp loudly as if fighting back emotion before she continued. “It’s a good thing. I think that’s how you learned to…”
A soft sigh left her mouth, as if covering for all the unsaid emotion. There was complexity woven through this girl, and I had to learn how to untwine it.
“To?” I coaxed.
“Love,” she blurted out, her voice hitching, turning that single-syllable word into three, each one working to get out. “You learned to love,” she murmured into her pillow, turning on her side.
“Yes, yes, they did teach me that.” I had to acknowledge the truth, and as I did, I sensed that when she finally opened up about her family, when I got to hear from her why the very mention of her mother made her flinch, I’d understand the reason that she recoiled at the idea of someone caring about her. When I heard the word love, I thought of abundance, but somehow, I knew her life lacked what I had in spades. “Sleep, Sweets, you’re going to need it.” As I encouraged her to sleep, I knew the tranquil escape of slumber would evade me; too many thoughts roiled through my mind. I couldn’t seem to compartmentalize the mixed jumble of emotions—love, anger, and fucking anxiety; is that even an emotion or just a state of being when you finally get what you want, yet there’s shakiness to the future? What was going on with her? The almost tormented rants in her dream state…What was that about? The career-changing phone call stained with the man I’d never met but loathed, juxtaposed with the scene right out of some cheesy romcom…the intentional declaration of our hearts joined painted on the mirror.
Light sifting through the edges of the wooden shutters in the living room was a welcome relief from the fitful night I’d just endured. Up and down, on the couch, staring into the fire, then back to the bathroom, looking at the cloudy remains of the art that I’d thought communicated what we both were feeling deep in our hearts, next replaying the crumbs I’d heard of Ana’s words on the phone—some nudity, he’s narrowed it down, really wants you…
Damn it! My head throbbed from the warring thoughts that were beating each other. I should tell her…if she takes this, I can’t continue a relationship with her. No, don’t say anything, just wait and see what happens, but be prepared. Steel your heart against what Hollywood will do to her. Stop, Jake, she’s already had her fill of billionaires…men who could buy any woman. She wants you…you need to support her dreams.
