Ford
She looked beautiful sitting on the barstool, her makeup worn off at the end of the day, her blouse slightly untucked on the right side, her leg beyond jittery, and her hair too straight for my liking. At first, when I’d asked her assistant where she’d be, the woman had balked. Then I threw in opening night passes for my next movie in Los Angeles. I offered sending a private jet to pick her up if she brought Jamie.
I’d called her Jamie when speaking about her—Red and James were only for our shared time…twenty-some years ago…but I’d never forgotten a moment. Especially when she gave me the most special gift any woman could give. I’d run away. It felt too deep, Jamie’s tentacles wrapping around parts of my heart I didn’t know existed. That was what happened when your dad was one of the most powerful people in the country and your mom was more concerned with a charity ball on Wednesday. You learned to run away from commitments because they turned into a chore.
“James,” I whispered after her friend left. I leaned into her ear and said her name again.
She kept her face looking forward as my hand found her wrist and I caressed the small sliver of skin peeking out from her sleeve with my pinky, moving down to her telltale birthmark, the one I’d teased her about all her life—the one that gave her identity away to me.
“Seeing you is unexpected,” came out of my mouth.
And it was. Jamie was a memory reserved for my most depressing evenings when I felt the most barren. James was for the days when I wanted to pretend I hadn’t turned into a shallow male version of my mom, going from party to party, seeing and being seen, and finding relationships based on what the other person could do for me, which was typically a long night of release.
“I should’ve stayed on my floor.” She spoke quietly, staring into her drink, refusing to make eye contact.
“Why?” I took a sip of my Lagavulin, waiting for her to answer. This place was probably considered hip for the area. Back home, it would be considered dated and quaint. As the liquor burned my throat, I realized I missed this—sitting and having a drink without posing for an invisible audience.
She swallowed and I watched whatever emotion it was pass over her throat. I wanted to run my hand over her shoulder and wrap it around her neck, squeezing the slightest bit, taking some of the air away from her lungs while I kissed her. I wouldn’t mark her or hurt her. I knew what I was doing. But James was not the kind of girl—woman—you did that to. She was gentle and loving, each bone of her body kinder than the next. Which was why she was sitting there, presumably weighing her words.
“I knew your dad was there, and I guessed maybe you’d be there.” She pushed her glasses up and turned to look at me, her silver eyes focused on mine. “It’s been a long time, and while it felt great to see you, now it doesn’t.” Her tongue swept her lips, erasing the remaining lip gloss left after her drinks. “I’ve tried not to mix work with pleasure, and you’re in the work category,” she went on to explain.
“Because my grandfather donated a hospital wing twenty-five years before you worked there? I’m sure you don’t have to raise any funds to maintain that part of the hospital.” She nodded but didn’t say a word in response. Of course she didn’t. My grandfather was an American legend—a lawyer who straddled the Rat Pack and Washington, DC’s finest. My father barely made it onto the Supreme Court due to some associations of Pap’s, but his good-boy nature, indelible record, and charm found him a seat.
“We were close once, and now we are strangers. You didn’t even recognize me.”
My hand was still on her knee. I wondered why she hadn’t moved it. “You’ve changed.” With my other hand, I couldn’t help but touch her hair, tucking a piece behind her ear. “You look…all grown up…beautiful, but in my mind you still had wild red curls…and…” For a man who made a fortune making deals in one of the most cutthroat cities in the world, I found myself tongue-tied. Not that there was a way to say I thought she was beautiful no matter how much her body was filled out or not… Nothing changed the electric current running between us.
“And weighed a bit more,” she interrupted, reading my thoughts, but skewing them negatively.
I shook my head, clamping my hand on her thigh. “No.” A wild, possessive nature was taking over my body and actions. While I’d always felt protective of Jamie, on some level I’d known my actions with her our last night in college hurt her more than anything. I punished myself for this by not allowing myself to do it again. I’d become convinced seeing her would only lead to my hurting her again. The real problem was I wasn’t about to explain any of this to her.
In the moment, I wished for superpowers to erase the last twenty years and take us right back to that night. I wouldn’t run, but rather stay put.
“You look great though.” She moved the subject back to me, a fake smile on her face.
“I’m not someone you’re soliciting for a donation, James. I’m your oldest friend. Don’t do that.”
She took a sip of her cocktail and I followed suit, the bartender eyeing me from the corner. I’d leave a heavy tip and hope he didn’t spill any secrets.
“I’ve missed you,” I said, despite trying to control my words and emotions. “We should hang while I’m here. Get to know one another as adults.” I didn’t know why I suggested it. My head throbbed and my heart pounded, and I wasn’t going to lie—below the waist, my body was reverberating in agreement with my suggestion.
“I don’t think so. You need to focus on your family.”
“Please, my family is nothing but a dog and pony show. My brother is out there securing another term and my sister is a media whore. I say it affectionately, and I love her to death, but the spotlight is her main love.” Jamie glared at me, and like old times I knew why. “Sorry, poor word choice. Media hog. And you know I love my dad, but there’s not much I can do for him, and my mom only wants me here so the TV people can see her children gathering around her in this time of need. We are a bunch of sycophants. You’ve always known this.”
“You weren’t always.” She defended me despite not seeing me in decades.
James was the only person I ever spoke so honestly about family to, and I knew she wouldn’t repeat our dirty secrets. It was refreshing to be free and honest. It was a privilege I’d been denied. “That was then, this is now. I grew up into one of them.”
“Maybe this is a good time to change things.”
Poor James. She’d always believed I could flip the script. Maybe that was why I’d become a producer, so I could change the course of some stories. But not my own.
Her leg was hot underneath my palm, and I ran a figure eight with my thumb, still wondering why she hadn’t moved my hand.
“Have you eaten?” I asked, hoping she’d bite on my offer.
She shook her head.
