Breathe Again (17 page)

Both men agreed to that, and we set off to find the alcohol,
and Lucy, who was probably with it.

I ordered a glass of champagne and Jackson got a whiskey on
the rocks before we made our way into the theater to find our seats. Jackson
was the star of the movie, which obviously meant that we had the best seats in
the house, and we headed inside right before everything began. Jackson had
given me a little run-through of what to expect during the actual premiere, and
it all seemed pretty straightforward. The cast was introduced, then key members
of the production staff, then the producer and director last. Right after that,
the movie began.

Lucy wasn’t in this one; she was just at the premiere because
she was a good friend of Jackson’s. As I watched his performance on the big
screen, I couldn’t help but be proud of all that he had accomplished in his
twenty-seven short years of life. Not all of his movies were Oscar contenders,
but they were all entertaining. This one was a thriller based on a popular
novel from the previous year. He played a husband accused of killing his wife,
and I actually sat on the edge of my seat waiting to find out what happened. I
clutched Jackson’s hand throughout the climax, and let out an audible sigh of
relief when I realized that Jackson, or his character, Max, didn’t actually do
it.

“You were amazing.” I leaned over the armrest so I could
whisper in Jackson’s ear as the credits started rolling. His name was first,
which sent little chills of satisfaction running up my spine.

“Thanks, baby,” Jackson whispered back, and he slipped his
hand behind my head to pull me in for a kiss. Thankfully the lights were still
out, or I’m sure I would have been embarrassed at our public display of
affection.

We got up once the lights came back on, and the producers
thanked us all for coming. Jackson had one last interview before we could go,
but this one wasn’t going to be on camera, just for print. I was thankful I
wasn’t going to have my picture taken anymore that night, especially since I
hadn’t really had a chance to fix up my makeup since we got into the theater.

The reporter had secured a quiet corner of the lobby, where
there were a couch and a few chairs, for the interview. Sharon ushered us over
to where he already sat, but I chose to remain standing, away from them. I was
exhausted, and definitely ready to get out of my shoes.

Lucy came to say good-bye while Jackson was being
interviewed, and I noticed that she swayed a little bit as she came in for a
hug. Jude had a hand on her elbow, steadying her, and I was grateful she would
have someone to take care of her that night, even if it was him. He gave me a
quick kiss on the cheek, and then they both left.

I waited for Jackson, and checked my phone for messages. The
only one was from Darcy, of course, telling me that I better call her that
night to tell her every single detail or she’d never speak to me again. I
laughed and texted her back, saying I’d talk to her in the morning. While I was
busy typing, I didn’t notice someone else approaching me, until they said my
name.

“Hello, Mellie.” I immediately recognized Sophia’s smooth, if
slightly nasal, voice. I hadn’t seen her all night; to be honest, I hadn’t even
known she was coming. She wasn’t in the movie either, but she was a friend of
Jackson’s too, so it shouldn’t have surprised me.

“Hi, Sophia,” I said, my voice shaking slightly. She’d never
actually talked to me personally before, so I was surprised that she’d
approached me.

“How was your first premiere? Not too overwhelming, I hope.”
I knew the question wasn’t necessarily condescending, but Sophia made it seem
that way. I shook my head, partially to answer her question and partially to
clear my mind of all the insecurities that had immediately come over me the
moment she opened her mouth.

“Not at all. It was actually a lot easier than I thought it
would be, though I am ready to get home and go to bed. Smiling and posing
really is kind of exhausting.”

Sophia gave me a strange look, a kind of smug smile. “I hear
you on that. It’s especially tiring when you’re forced to answer the same
mundane questions over and over again. Not to mention the prying into our
personal lives. I know Jackson would agree with me when I say that they really
just need to get over themselves.”

I nodded slowly, suddenly uncomfortable at the tone of the
conversation. She knew what it was like, and I felt like an idiot for acting
like I did too.

She glanced over to where Jackson was still sitting with the
reporter. “Tell him good night for me, will you? I’m ready to get out of here
too.”

“Of course. Have a good night, Sophia,” I said. I knew my
voice was small and unsure, but I didn’t have the energy to fake anything right
then.

Sophia just nodded and turned on her heels (which may have
been even higher than mine, if that were possible). I let out a breath of
relief just as Jackson wrapped up the interview. He stood up and took my hand,
and we headed back out of the theater, past the crowd, and into the waiting
limousine.

I stayed at Jackson’s apartment that
night, of course. We got back after midnight, but both Jackson and I were too
wired to go to sleep right away. As we drove home, the exhaustion I felt before
leaving the theater was replaced by a buzzing energy, and the realization that
I’d actually done it.

We barely make it in the door before we were ripping each
other’s clothes off, and I felt only slightly concerned when Jackson let my
designer dress fall to the floor. We left a trail of clothing and undergarments
as we made our way to the bedroom, and our lovemaking was anything but tender
and sweet. It was passionate, full of adrenaline and excitement. It was also
hurried, our energy depleting with every labored breath and strong thrust. We
fell asleep in each other’s arms, a contented smile on both of our faces.

I woke up before Jackson did, to morning light pouring in
through the bedroom’s tall windows. I placed a quick kiss on Jackson’s forehead
and let myself watch his sleeping face for a few seconds, before swinging my
legs over the side of the bed. I’d long ago become used to being naked in the
bedroom, but I still couldn’t bring myself to walk around in the nude in the
rest of the apartment. Jackson’s dress shirt lay in a heap on the carpet near
the door, so I threw it on and headed out to the kitchen to make a pot of
coffee.

“Good morning, Mellie.”

I’m pretty sure I jumped three feet in the air when I heard
the stranger’s voice. I hadn’t seen anyone when I walked out, and I definitely
hadn’t heard anyone come in earlier in the morning. I turned toward the
breakfast bar and saw a middle-aged woman with olive-colored skin and a short,
severe haircut. She was beautiful and kind of terrifying at the same time.

She was Jackson’s manager, Teresa Hume. I’d only seen her
once, a few months prior, when she stopped by the apartment to drop off a
script for Jackson. She hadn’t even acknowledged me then, though I shouldn’t
have been surprised that she knew my name now.

“Hello,” I said, frozen in the middle of the kitchen. I was
all too aware that the only thing covering my naked body was Jackson’s dress
shirt, and I silently thanked the universe that it hung down to my thighs. I
wanted to bolt in the other direction, at least go put on a pair of pants (if
not hide in Jackson’s closet completely), but couldn’t move my legs.

“I assumed you would be here this morning, after last night’s
. . .
event
,
but Jackson wasn’t answering his phone and I really need to talk to him about
something.”

I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but it was too
dry. Instead, I just nodded slowly, my eyes wide, and tried to force my legs to
move into the bedroom.

Teresa Hume was entirely intimidating. I knew, from stories
Jackson had told me, that she was ruthless, though her priority really was her
clients. She’d been a model once, which wasn’t surprising, given her nearly
six-foot stature and piercing green eyes, but she was far too ambitious to let
herself just be cast aside when she was deemed too old. She was practically a
legend in the film industry now, and every actor and actress wanted her
managing them, but she’d chosen Jackson. They’d been working together ever
since she decided to take a chance on him when he was only sixteen years old.

I turned and clutched the bottom of the shirt while I walked,
hoping nothing was peeking out. I was almost in the clear, at the edge of the
kitchen, when her voice rang out again.

“Mellie, have you had a chance to read the news this morning
yet?”

I turned back to where she sat at the counter and shook my
head. She smiled, though it wasn’t a kind smile. She had a harsh face,
beautiful of course, but mean, like she knew she was at the top of the world
and everyone else was below her. I wasn’t sure if I had ever felt so small.

She reached into her bag and pulled out a stack of papers,
sliding them toward me on the counter. I eyed them suspiciously, knowing that
nothing in them could be good. I knew what she was trying to do, and I knew
that she wasn’t trying to keep me with Jackson. This was her tactic, her way of
testing me to see if I could actually handle it.

“Let me get Jackson for you,” I said quietly. I grabbed
the papers off the counter before making my way back to the bedroom to wake him
up. I put the papers down on the bedside table and moved to his side of the bed
to shake him awake. He grunted and rolled over away from me. “Jackson,” I said,
now kneeling on the bed so I could reach him. “Teresa is here. She wants to
talk to you.”

He turned back toward me and cracked open an eye. “Please
don’t tell me you just said Teresa is here right now.”

“I did just say that Teresa is here, and you should probably
get up and go talk to her. She scares me.”

Jackson pulled me down on the bed with him. “Don’t be scared,
Mellie Rose. Her bark is much, much worse than her bite. Did she say something
to you?” He was stroking my hair back from my face and nuzzling my neck, making
me giggle.

“No, she didn’t say anything. I just get the feeling that she
doesn’t like me. Oh, and I went out there almost naked, not realizing that she
was here, so there’s that too. She probably thinks I’m a skanky skank right
now.”

Jackson burst out laughing. “You are not a skanky skank,
Mellie Rose. She’s just used to coming and going as she pleases. I’ve never
really had anybody over at my apartment before you.”

I sighed. “I know, but would you just go out there and talk
to her? I’m going to stay in here and take a shower, so we can actually do
something today.” Jackson looked at me hungrily, as if he were about to pounce
on me. The thought of what
he
had in mind made my heart race (in
the best way possible), but I pushed it away. “You need to get out there, and
then we can talk about what we’ll be doing later.”

“Talk? Who needs to talk when we can just be naked at home
all day?”

I pushed him out of bed this time, trying not to let out my
schoolgirl giggle. I wouldn’t mind that either, but he needed to go talk to
scary Teresa. “Go,” I said, using all my strength to shove him out of bed. I
barely moved him an inch, but he finally relented and stood up.

“Fine, I’ll go. But you better still be here, in that shirt
and nothing else, when I get back.” He put on a pair of sweats and a T-shirt
before finally leaving me alone in the bedroom.

I looked over to the nightstand, where I’d set the papers
that Teresa had brought over. I knew that there was probably nothing good in
them, but I had a sense of morbid curiosity. Maybe I was just hoping that my
impression of Teresa was off, and she’d share both the good and the bad with
me, but I wouldn’t know unless I actually looked through the papers.

I pulled them off the bedside table and placed them in my
lap. The stack was pretty large, held together with a binder clip, and I could
tell from the top sheet that they were all printouts of articles from the
Internet. I unclipped them and kept the top sheet in my hand, while putting the
rest next to me on the bed.

The first article was from a major entertainment site. The
first thing I noticed was a photo of Jackson and me on the red carpet, from the
night before. I was staring at him with a pathetic puppy-dog look, and it
didn’t even seem as if he was paying attention to me. Instead, he was staring
off in the opposite direction, at something out of the camera’s frame. It
wasn’t the worst photo in the world, but I still looked like some pathetic
lovesick girl, hoping for Jackson’s attention.

Jackson Traver Steps Out Onto Red Carpet with New Date

Okay, it could be worse. Except for the indifference about
our relationship, it was actually pretty innocuous, and we hadn’t really gotten
into the details with anyone last night. Nobody asked, and I don’t think we
were ready to tell them, anyway. What was I supposed to say if they asked?
Yeah, Jackson is
the love of my life, and he just so happens to be the most famous guy in the
world. You might n
ot believe it, but he loves me too
and we’ll hopefully be together forever and ever.

Call me naive, but I figured that being seen in public with
someone, holding hands and kissing, especially when that someone is an
international superstar, meant that there was at least something more than just
a platonic relationship. Jackson wasn’t known for bringing random girls out in
public with him either, but they either didn’t know or didn’t care enough to
say it.

I set the first page down, and moved on to the next. This one
did make me cringe.

Jackson Traver Ditches Sophia Lewis for a Nobody Fling

Jackson and Sophia were seen together leaving an intimate
dinner with their
Pieces of Us
cast members on Saturday
night, but apparently that didn’t deter him from bringing a new girl to his
Stand Alone
premiere last night. Sources close to the couple say that Mellie Rose, or
Melanie Devlin, is just a temporary distraction for Jackson.

“He’s upset at Sophia for some of the rumors she started
last spring about their relationship and he doesn’t really want to be seen with
her in public right now. He met Mellie recently, and they’ve been hiding out
ever since, but nobody really thinks it’s going anywhere; it’s just a fun
distraction for Jackson who’s been working a lot of long hours on his new set
and promoting
Stand Alone
.

Yeah, that one stung. Right below the photo of Jackson and me
at the premiere last night was an even bigger one of him and Sophia coming out
of Ottavia on Saturday night, waving at the cameras, one hand around her waist.
I had known exactly what was going to go down when I sent them outside
together, but I had purposely stayed away from the Internet so I wouldn’t have
to see what people were saying. Here I was, though, torturing myself with words
written by people who didn’t even know me, or Jackson, really. That didn’t stop
me from continuing through the stack.

It was really just more of the same, some of them mentioning
Sophia, and some of them just speculating on who exactly I was. I really hoped
that nobody would find out how we
actually
met, but it was unlikely to
stay a secret. Someone would come forward someday, telling the story of how I
dropped a cake all over myself in front of Jackson. I knew I shouldn’t have
been embarrassed at this point; Jackson and I laughed about that day all the
time, but we laughed about it together. If anyone else knew, they would be
laughing at me.

Just as I anticipated, there were no positive articles in the
stack. Some said that I wasn’t pretty enough for Jackson, that I seemed
arrogant, and didn’t belong on the red carpet. Those didn’t actually hurt as
much as the ones that suggested I wasn’t good enough for him, as a person, and
not just because of what I looked like. I really couldn’t care less if they
liked my lipstick or my hair or my dress. What got to me was when they said
that Jackson deserved better than just a nobody baker.

I thumbed through the rest, not really reading the second
half of the stack. I was tired, my mind numb from the terrible grammar and
invented facts that these “reporters” felt the need to share. I tried not to
let it get to me, but I felt my self-esteem plummet. Jackson was still out in
the kitchen talking to Teresa, which left me all alone to stew in the
bitterness of the outside world, which had somehow managed to make its way into
our safe home.

I knew that he wanted me to stay in bed and wait for him, but
I was growing restless. I didn’t want to wallow in self-pity; I needed to do
something, get my mind off of all the evil, terrible things that were floating
around in my head.

I decided a shower was exactly what I needed to clean off the
grime of the night before, and start the day new. I headed into the bathroom
and pulled Jackson’s shirt off over my head before turning the water on. As
much as I loved my pretty bathtub, I never missed a chance to use Jackson’s
massive, spa-like shower. I didn’t have to worry about the water running cold
too quickly, or having to fold myself uncomfortably in the tub to wash my hair
thoroughly.

Unfortunately, the shower didn’t distract me as much as I’d
hoped. As I stood under the stream of water, I got angry; angry that the media,
that Teresa and all these people who didn’t know me or Jackson took that
perfect night away from us. Last night was actually good! I was so happy when
we actually got home, and so was Jackson. I felt like I belonged there,
standing next to the man I loved. To me, it didn’t really matter if he acted,
or crunched numbers, or even flipped burgers. I wanted to support him, to be
there for him, and being there for him just happened to mean having my life
scrutinized.

I groaned, not really enjoying my shower anymore, so I turned
off the water and grabbed one of the towels that Jackson’s housekeeper left
next to the shower.

Jackson was in the bathroom when I got out of the shower,
looking annoyed.

“I thought I told you to stay in bed,” he growled, looking at
me through narrowed eyes. Usually I would have played his game, feigning
innocence and letting him take me in the bathroom, but I really wasn’t feeling
it, so I just shrugged.

“Mellie?” he said, his voice making it a question. He knew me
better than anyone, so obviously he knew there was something wrong.

“It’s nothing,” I said, wrapping one towel around myself,
then drying my hair with another. I turned to the sink so that I could brush my
teeth, avoiding his gaze.

“It’s obviously not nothing. What happened? Was it Teresa?” I
shrugged again, continuing to brush my teeth. As soon as I spit into the sink,
he had his hands on my shoulders and turned me around. “You can’t lie to me.
There’s something wrong, and I want to know what it is.”