Taking the Lead(48)

"You still don't get it, do you?"

"Get what? That you're jealous? Ricki, that's normal. That means you care-"

She made a dismissive sound. "Jealousy I could deal with. What really matters is that even if this is nothing, completely innocent, look at how the tabloids blew it out of proportion! Would I have to put up with that every day if I were in a relationship with you?"

I froze. The answer was, probably, yes. I tried to argue it out, anyway.

"Ricki. I understand if you don't want it to be public, I understand if you even want me to keep my hands to myself when I'm in public-if that would help, really, I can do it!-but please-" Don't tell me it's over and I'm never going to see you again. I didn't get to finish what I was saying, though, because she jumped in.



       
         
       
        

"It's a detriment and a distraction," she said. "If I'm going to have a relationship at all, I need someone I won't be worrying is going to end up on stage or, or  …  stealing women's garters at corporate events."

What the fuck? "When have I ever stolen women's garters? Now you're just making shit up."

"Not that exact thing but you know what I mean."

I probably got a little angrier at that point than was healthy. But when your heart's broken and lying in pieces at the bottom of a well of despair, and you're afraid you're losing the one person in the world who suddenly matters more to you than anyone, it's difficult to look on the bright side. "No, I don't know what you mean. Ricki, you're confusing who I am with my image."

"That's what I'm saying. Does that even matter, Axel? The next time you do whatever outrageous sexually charged thing the media glom onto, how am I supposed to feel about it?"

"Okay, you know what, though? The thing you like about me is that I'm outrageously sexually charged."

"I know, Axel, I know." She sounded a lot more sympathetic now, but no less firm about it. "And that's exactly what I'm saying. I don't need that. It was fun while it lasted and I'll never forget you, but I've been doing a lot of deep thinking and  …  I'm really sorry."

How deep? I almost said, but I realized it would sound childish. Like I was arguing for the sake of arguing. If I was going to change her mind, I needed a better argument than that. I kicked at the gravel, feeling helpless. "Ricki, did something happen while I was gone?"

"Nothing that really matters," she said. "I realized some things that I should have known all along, I guess."

"Look, where are you? I'm heading north on the PCH. Let's just meet. For coffee. Talk about this face to face." Being on the phone was killing me. Was I imagining all the conflict I heard in her voice? I wanted to sink my fingers into her hair and give her a bruising kiss. Show her how I felt: how it felt to both of us when we were together. How could she have forgotten that? Maybe it was my imagination. Maybe it had always been better for me than it had been for her.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Axel."

Of course you don't, I wanted to say. Because when we're apart you can fool yourself that you don't need me, that we don't need each other.

I felt a cold stab of fear. Maybe that was exactly why it could never work between us, because every time I went on tour or was separated from her, without me here to constantly remind her, she would forget-or just plain realize-she didn't actually need me. That was what she had just said, wasn't it? That she didn't need me. 

I leaned against the hood of the car, my body feeling numb. "Is this my fault?" I heard myself asking.

Maybe this was the payback for taking things too far that very first time. I put too much of my heart into things. Isn't that what Mal always said?

"I know we didn't exactly get started the way most people do-"

"This doesn't have anything to do with that," Ricki said. "It was fun, Axel. I don't regret it. It was a fun fling. But I didn't want to lead you on anymore. I can't be what you want. I can't do what you want."

I seized on that. "Wait a second. A minute ago it was that you couldn't stand dealing with me being a public sex symbol. Now it's that you think you can't satisfy me?"

She backpedaled right back to her checklist, clearing her throat. "No. It's that my goals and you being in the public eye are incompatible. I'm doing everything I can to keep my life from being nothing more than a train wreck in the tabloids, can't you see that?"

I was desperate, I admit. I tried again. "Seriously, Ricki, though. You can't treat this relationship like something your spreadsheets and pie charts show you should divest yourself from."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not a fucking pie chart!"

"I've tried to tell you before and it's just not getting through. You don't listen!"

"You can't break up with me on a conference call!" I screamed.

"Everything I've ever wanted, everything I've ever worked for, I'm afraid of losing it all!" she screamed back. "And for what! Some kinky sex?"

"This isn't about kinky sex! This is about the fact that I love you!"

"And I love you!" she shouted. "Get over it! It's over, Axel, over!"

I was too stunned by hearing her say the words "I love you" to be able to answer. I didn't come up with the magic thing to say that would have kept her from hanging up, either. I could hear her sobbing and then the connection went silent as she disconnected.

I cocked back my arm to throw the fucking phone over the cliff. But it dinged with a text coming through. I hurried to look at it, hoping it was Ricki.

It was from Christina. We got it!! Deal is in the bag! A cool one million! Texting you bc yr phone isn't picking up. I bet no one was ever so disappointed to hear they'd made a million dollars. I stared at the text, stunned and unable to move. Ricki Hamilton had just admitted she loved me and told me to get lost at the same time. I had no idea how to feel about that. I sank to the ground.

Then I heard Sakura's voice saying "Axel! Axel!" from the tiny speaker.

I pressed the phone to my ear, huddling in the gravel against the door of my car, the wind off the Pacific suddenly seeming cold and inhospitable. "Hey," I croaked, my mind still reeling. "I take it you didn't go make a smoothie."

"No. Sorry."

"It's all right. It's good you eavesdropped because right now I need a serious reality check."

"I think it's Ricki who needs the reality check."

The tightness in my chest loosened ever so slightly. "Is it my fault she wants to leave? Am I completely wrong for her? Am I driving her away from me?"

"No, no, and no," she said. "Which is why I think we need to come up with a different strategy for getting through to her."

"You women and your strategies. Are you going to break out the spreadsheets and pie charts, too?"



       
         
       
        

"Watch it, mister. I'm trying to help you. And Ricki. Are you ready to listen to me?"

I got to my feet, brushing gravel from my jeans. "Yeah." I got into the car and shut the door behind me. "I'm all ears."





CHAPTER FIFTEEN


HIGH TIDE, LOW TIDE


RICKI

In the back of the limo I turned to Paul and asked, "Okay, how do I look?"

He eyed me critically, but then said, "Perfect. Going with that dark shade of lipstick really works. It's strong like power red but without looking tarty. It's sort of  …  classic."

Trust Paul to get what I meant by a lipstick shade. Helena Meyers inspired me to wear it, actually. When I'd finally gotten around to having dinner at their house I'd noticed it. Over a five-course meal, I'd listened to her tell tales about her days as a war journalist, and watched her husband David dote on her. She'd worn a bold shade that was sexy but mature, poised, confident.

Everything I needed to be today. "Thanks, Paul."

"Go get 'em, boss."

"Right." I stepped out of the car and gave a nod to the doorman, thinking crown on my head, crown on my head. He nodded back and tipped his hat. I marched across the luxurious hotel lobby like a noir heroine in a long panning shot. Then into the elevator and up to the conference floor where the CTC shareholders meeting was taking place.

Schmitt might have told me that no, I couldn't address the shareholders, every time I had asked, but he couldn't keep me from attending the meeting. After all, I was a shareholder, too.

I waited until the meeting was in session, though, before slipping in the back and then finding a seat in the darkened conference room. Everyone was looking at the slide presentation of the company's profit and loss sheets up on the big projection screen at the front. The CFO, Jim Wong, was at the podium explaining the numbers. He had come to CTC from Silicon Valley, where he'd been involved in a couple of high-profile tech companies but had fallen in love with Hollywood. I suppose people do, from time to time. Seduced by the glitz.

Marlon Charles, the current head of PR, stood to the side of the dais, looking over some notes in his hands, clearly preparing to take the podium next.