Liv said something down behind me and Jimmy answered in a suitably subdued voice. I didn’t want to know what.
I’d asked for this, told Jimmy to date, pushed him into it even. But then he’d made me date too and then torn into me for daring to hold someone’s hand. Rage boiled up inside of me, an inferno’s worth. I didn’t need to fetch shit. Jimmy was going out, he didn’t really care about the interview info. Instead of doing my duty, I power walked my fine self up to the second floor. I didn’t run, because to run would insinuate I was some sort of coward making an escape. I didn’t slam my bedroom door shut either, calmly locking it instead.
Everything was fine.
I was okay.
And Jimmy Ferris could go fuck himself.
CHAPTER TWELVE
My bedroom door handle started rattling just after five, waking me from my afternoon slumber. Three hours I’d been holed up in my room. A lesser mortal might have cried themselves to sleep, but I’d had a nap with a slight amount of tear duct drama attached to its beginning.
Whatever.
I was over letting Jimmy Ferris turn me inside out. It was time to start acting like a grown woman and put the nonsense behind me.
“Lena.” More rattling.
I raised my weary head off the pillow, rubbing at my sore eyes.
Some thumping. “Open the door.”
“Have you come to apologize?” I asked.
“What the fuck do I have to apologize for?”
Slowly, I sat up. “Oh, I don’t know. Try being a hypocrite, yelling at me, and embarrassing me in front of other people for starters.”
A moment of silence. “Don’t be ridiculous, open the door.”
“No.”
“Open. The. Door.”
“We can discuss this tomorrow, Jimmy. Good night.” So I’d go to bed with no dinner. For once, my belly didn’t mind and my heart was too torn up to care.
At which point, Jimmy went off. “It’s my fucking house and you work for me. It is not okay for you to be carrying on with him during business hours. Where the fuck is the respect? You’re on my time then and you damn well know it. It’s absolute bullshit. You’re both completely out of line. I pay you, you’re my assistant, and he’s got the fucking gall to try something with you behind my back in my house. He has no business touching you ever. I don’t want to see that shit happening again, he’s to stay away from you. The pussy didn’t even stand up for you, Lena. Did you notice that? I don’t know what the hell you’re thinking of having anything to do with the little dickhead.”
I gaped at the door. Clearly, the man had lost his ever-loving mind. He wasn’t making a single lick of sense, but he kept on keeping on. Apparently the fact that he’d set me up with Dean in the first place had been completely forgotten. Amazing. I had to tune out for the sake of my sanity. I crossed my legs and leaned back against the headboard, waiting him out.
* * *
Eventually, the silence was deafening on both sides of the door. I strained to hear something, anything.
Then the crashing began.
Boom!
The first bone-jarring noise made my whole body jump. Second time around wasn’t much better. My bedroom door smashed open and Jimmy strode on, seeming twice as tall as normal, putting most mountains to shame. Righteous indignation blazed in his eyes, red tinged his skin. Maybe I should have been afraid, but I was too busy being pissed.
“Did you just kick my door down?” I shrieked the obvious. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”
“My door, yeah.” He marched on over to the bed, seeming ten foot tall. Then suddenly he stopped. “Have you been crying?”
”Nope. I’m all good. Thanks for asking. My door on the other hand, not so much!” I’m sure my most likely red-eyed, blotchy-skinned appearance told a different tale. But screw him. Such was the beauty of the ugly cry, its legacy lasted for hours no matter some beauty sleep. I probably looked like road-kill, slammed down by the semi-trailer that was rock ’n’ roll legend Jimmy Ferris.
He sat on the edge of my bed. His broad shoulders seemed to have fallen by half a foot at least. “You have, you’ve been fucking crying. I don’t believe you.”
Give me strength, like it was some crime against him and I should be the one to apologize. “My eyes were allowed to do what they want, Jimmy. Nothing in the employment contract about that.”
Meanwhile, the poor door was damaged beyond repair, he had actually kicked it in. Insane. How the hell this day had taken such a turn for the overly dramatic, crazy-town worse, I had no idea.
“Lena.” His voice was a soft command. “Look at me.”
I exhaled “What? What do you want me to say, Jimmy?”
He turned away, pinning his lips shut.
What a mess. I grabbed a pillow and hugged it to my chest.
There seemed no obvious telltale signs of his screwing around with Liv Anders, no bites on his neck or what have you. Not that it would be screwing around on me, it just felt like it. A faint headache from all the tears lingered behind my sore eyes. We’d started the day out laughing and teasing each other. How sad to have ended it this way.
Jimmy crawled onto the bed, sitting beside me with his back against the headboard. The heating clicked on, just about the only noise in the entire house.
We sat side by side, saying nothing.
I studied him out of the corner of my eye, hands fidgeted in his lap, picking stray bits of lint off his black jeans, smoothing them down. Once he was done with his preening, he crossed his arms over his chest. But his fingers kept stretching out, then curling, over and over again.
“You hurt me,” I said, because one of us needed to be brave and fess up.
His chin jerked upward.
“Don’t do the chin thing, say something.” I waited a moment. My patience was not rewarded. “Why’d you kick my door down?”
He turned toward me, eyes tortured.
“Jimmy?”
“I couldn’t stand it, you locking me out.” The words sounded dragged out of him, kicking and screaming. “You should have answered me. You shouldn’t have … you shouldn’t have done that.”
“Why not?”
His eyes narrowed. “What the fuck do you mean why not?”
“Why should I open my door to you if you’re yelling at me? If you’ve been acted like a complete bastard and hurt my feelings? Stop for just one minute, put yourself in my place and tell me, why should I let you in?”
He made some snarly noise.
“And don’t give me any of the I’m-your-boss, it’s-my-house, I-pay-you shit,” I said. “Yes, it’s all true. No, it doesn’t actually matter in this circumstance, we’re beyond that.”
“But—”
“No.”
His nostrils flared and emotion shone bright in his eyes. “You shouldn’t have locked me out.”
I just looked at him.
“I needed to …” A hand gestured aimlessly in front of him while he searched for words. “I needed to be able to talk to you, face to face, all right?”
For him, that was all. There was nothing else to it.
Words sat on my tongue, desperate to get out. It took me a moment to clear my head, form a coherent sentence. “You needed to talk to me so badly that you kicked my door down.”
Nothing from him.
“Jimmy, does that sound like a normal friendship to you?”
“I know. I fucked up,” he said, voice rough.
“What did you do?” Fear filled me. Apart from the paleness he seemed okay, pupils normal. Please god let him not have taken anything.
“You.”
“Me?”
“You. Today. I fucked up. I’m sorry, Lena, I just … I’m sorry. Shit just came out my mouth and I knew it wasn’t right.” He winced. “I’m sorry.”
“Honestly, Jimmy, the words just aren’t cutting it for me right now.”
“What do I do then? Tell me. I don’t know how to do this stuff,” he said. “React right.”
“What did you mean to do?”
“I wanted to fix things, but I just broke them more.” Eyes agitated, he gritted his teeth. “In the band, there was always the music to smooth things over if shit got out of hand. If the music’s going right everything else just falls away. But there’s nothing like that here with you. I don’t know what to do when it gets messed up.”
“You talk to me, Jimmy. You don’t go crazy yelling and you don’t get mean. You just come and you talk to me about it,” I said. “It’s that hard, and that simple.”
He made no reply.
“Why did you flip out when you saw me holding Dean’s hand?”
“I don’t know.” He gave a low growl and drew back, staring me in the face. “Just tell me what to do to apologize. What do you want? I’ll buy you whatever.”
“I don’t want you to buy me anything.”
“Well, what can I do?”
“Nothing,” I said, because asking for him naked was probably out of the question. Begging him to never again have anything to do with Liv Anders probably ran a close second. “You can fix my door. That would be nice.”
“Of course I’ll fix the door, but you’ve gotta want more than that.” He seemed so adamant, eyes alight with fervor for the idea of making reparations. Problem was, I couldn’t have what I really wanted. We’d already established that.