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She didn’t know I meant what I said.
I did it for her.
My mantras aren’t helping as I replay what she said over and over and over again. I used to love you.
That feels true.
Way too fucking true.
—
“Get your hands off me.” I shove Xavier’s chest once the camera shuts off and stomp toward the house.
“Where are you going?” he asks quietly, since my neighbors are standing on their driveways and peeking out the windows, happily watching the show.
“I’m going to call Jax,” I hiss at him from the front door. I walk in. Xavier follows.
“Oh. M-My gosh. Oh my…Xavier. McCormack. In my house.” That’s my mom, stuttering and stumbling over herself as the cup of coffee she’s carrying wobbles. She’s dressed in jeans and a button-down blouse, and a classy pair of flats. I’m glad I won’t have to hear stories for years about the time she met Xavier McCormack and she looked a fright. That’s the only gratitude I can extend for her behavior. It’d be nice if she wasn’t starstruck over this jerk.
“You must be Mrs. Lockhart,” he says with an easy smile.
“Murphy,”my father corrects as he walks from the kitchen, chest puffed. “You know that Lockhart is my daughter’s stage name, right?”
“Of course. Right.” Xavier’s smile doesn’t budge.
“Could you give us a minute?” I ask my parents through clenched teeth.
“Sorry, sweetheart,” my mom tells me. Then to Xavier, “Can I offer you a coffee or tea?”
“If you have a green juice of some kind—”
“He’s fine.” I slice him with a glare. “Please. A few minutes,” I say to my parents.
“We’ll be on the patio if you need us.” My father burns Xavier with a glare of his own and palms my mother’s back as they leave the room. I can hear her say something to the effect of “Xavier McCormack in my own house!” under her breath, which only fuels Xavier’s ego and my temper.
“Nicely done out there,” he praises.
“Shut up. I have to call Jax and explain…” Except I can’t. Because his phone is on the kitchen counter where my mom put it after she vacuumed this morning.
“I found Jackson’s cellphone,”she told me while avoiding eye contact. There wasn’t a lot left to the imagination last night. They walked in on Jackson and me after a bout of sweaty, delicious sex on their three-thousand-dollar sofa, and we were on our way toward another bout if they hadn’t walked in. I don’t care how old you are, that is damaging on so many levels.
“I have to drop off his phone and explain.” I stomp toward the kitchen.
“Nina. Hang on. Let’s talk about this—this is a good thing. Meredith and Dick are going to love it. And Jax helped us out. Except there at the end when he got weird.”
“Meredith and Dick need to run away together,” I blurt out, angry at our agents, and, well, everyone at the moment. Except Jax and his purported weirdness. Jax and his “I love you” before he pulled out of the driveway. What was that about? Did he think he was helping?
“I’m going to the premiere of Millie’s film Waterlilies on Friday. You’re going to be my date. I called Meredith when I landed, and she called Michael Keith. He’s making you a dress for the event. Pack your things now and we’ll be back in L.A. with enough time for you to be fitted and lighten your hair.” He squints his eyes. “Those roots have to go if you’re going to be hailed as a princess again. And your skin is dull. A three-day cleanse is in order. I know a great dietitian who specializes…”
His voice fades out as my mind tracks back to everything that happened in the driveway. Specifically, Jackson’s shock and disgust at seeing me with Xavier.
I can’t blame him. He didn’t get the full picture. He wasn’t here when I answered the door to find Xavier and a camera guy at the threshold. Jax didn’t know that I had to make a decision on the spot about what I wanted the world to see. I couldn’t afford to fly off the handle at Xavier even if he deserved it.
Thank God Jax picked up the slack when I signaled him. I watched him snap from confused to indignant, playing to my act so perfectly part of me applauded. He understood me—understands me—better than anyone. Better than Xavier ever has.
“Is there a gym nearby? I need to go for a run before I climb on a plane.” Xavier pulls his hand over his flat stomach.
“Do you think he meant it?” I ask him as well as myself.
