“Why don’t you go lay down and I’ll let myself out when you’ve gone to sleep?”
I wanted to shove him out of the front door. I thought we could be friends, but that was me agreeing to whatever he wanted to give me. It was pathetic. I didn’t need table scraps. I needed to break the cycle.
I nodded in lieu of a verbal reply considering tears were already dangerously close to falling and I would not cry about this situation for one more moment.
“Brooklyn,” he called as I walked toward my bedroom. I looked over my shoulder to see him encased in the light from the kitchen. He looked down to the floor and then back up to me. “Let me know if you need anything.”
I nodded and kept walking toward my room, happy to be alone once the door closed behind me.
I had one last day with him and then I wouldn’t have to pretend anymore. There would be no more wishful thinking, no more late-night sex sessions. I had to quit the habit or I’d never be able to move on.
So we’d sing our duet and then the day after that, I’d start fresh and start working on my new album.
Without Jason.
Chapter Thirty
It took a lot of caffeine to get me going the next morning. Summer brought me a latte with an extra shot of espresso, but by noon, I was still in danger of crashing. I’d tossed and turned after Jason had left the night before, and when I woke up the next morning there was a note sitting on the kitchen counter that threw my brain for a loop:
Give me until tomorrow night. - J
“Fuckkk youuuu,” I said, tearing the note in two. I’d watched enough movies and I’d yelled at the screen enough times to know when the pitiful character is supposed to move on and stop going back time after time. Let me lay out a few examples for you: He’s Just Not That Into You, Jaws, Jurassic Park, Titanic. Okay, so maybe only one of those is actually a good example of what I thought I was living through, but still.
“Are you ready?” Cammie asked, stepping out of my bedroom in a strapless Oscar de la Renta gown. The red fabric looked killer with her tan skin and dark hair. She was my date for the evening, and she would definitely be showing me up.
“Almost,” I said, pointing to the hair stylist who was still working to make my curls as perfect as possible. He’d used about three bottles of hairspray and I was currently sitting in a cloud of perfume, make-up, and hair product that threatened to suffocate me. “You look amazeballs.”
She spun in a circle and laughed. “Why, thank you. Summer said we have to leave by 5:30 P.M. to make it in time for the red carpet.”
“Done! Let’s get your dress on now,” the hair stylist said, spinning the chair around so that I could look in the mirror. I hardly recognized myself, which was usually the case by the time the red carpet looks were completed. My hair was loose and curled to perfection. My eyes were dark and dramatic and my lips were painted a bright red and would match my second dress for the night, my performance dress.
The bodice of my first dress made it almost impossible to breathe and as we rode in the limousine toward the Staples Center, I feared that my lungs were in danger of collapsing.
“If I pass out on the red carpet, you’ll have to carry me past all the photographers,” I warned Cammie.
“Sounds good,” she nodded. “I knew what I was getting into when I signed up to be your date.”
I winked. “You better put out at the end of the night.”
“If by ‘put out’ you mean order us Chinese food while we nurse our aching feet, it’s on.”
I laughed and relaxed as much as possible against the limousine’s seat. The traffic wasn’t terrible getting to the Staples Center, but there was a line of cars waiting to drop off various celebrities and musicians so they could have their turn on the red carpet. They had to time it well so that there was a constant stream of celebrities walking the carpet. When it was finally my turn, I let Cammie out first so that she could shield me from the paparazzi. I always feared stumbling while they snapped away, capturing my face as it hit the pavement. As such, I took my sweet time standing up on my four-inch heels.
Cammie and I walked hand-in-hand toward the center of the carpet where the media were stationed like soldiers on a battlefield. Various news channels were lined up in the front for interviews while the photographers were positioned on a platform behind them so they could continue to snap photos.
Once my cheeks were in danger of falling off from smiling so hard, I made my way toward an “E News!” camera for my first interview.
“You look absolutely stunning,” Gina—the red-carpet correspondent— said, holding my hand up so I could spin in a circle for the camera.