CHAPTER NINETEEN
Charley
“You didn’t have to escort me home to my apartment, Jude,” I point out as the taxi passes sprawling urban blocks on its way back from the airport. Our plane landed just after six PM, but the sun was already down and the Manhattan chill seeped in the moment we left the airport. City lights flash around us, blocking the moon and stars. I zip up my tight leather jacket, trying to adjust to the drastic changes in temperature. Just this morning, we were lazing on the beach in our swimsuits, managing to fit in one more quick swim before leaving the island. Now, I’m wrapped in three layers of warm clothing.
Jude raises his brow and offers me a silly smirk, “And cut this vacation short sooner?” His tone makes my statement sound utterly ridiculous.
I can’t help but laugh as I gesture toward the window. “We’re in the back of a cab, in New York City, a block from my apartment. I think that means the vacation is officially over.”
He shakes his head knowingly, narrowing his intense gaze right onto me. “Charley, until we are outside of your apartment door, this vacation is still happening.” Then he dips his head back against the seat and plasters on an easy smile. “Now relax and enjoy the island breeze.”
I laugh at his playfulness, loving these little exchanges of ours. It’s been too long since I’ve had easy conversations like this with anyone other than Naomi. “I think that’s smog,” I offer cheekily.
He pries one eye open and tips his head toward me. “Ha-ha. Who taught you to be such a smart ass, my dear?”
“It’s au naturel, built in with my WASP-y DNA,” I smile wryly.
“Mmm, we’ll have to get some more Brooklyn in you.”
“Is that where your apartment is?” I ask, suddenly curious to know how he lives. “It’s strange that I haven’t seen it yet.”
“Yeah. It’s just across the river. We’ll have dinner there tomorrow.” Of course there’s no invitation because it’s not necessary. I’d cancel any plans I had to go to his place for dinner.
“Sounds good.”
“There’s an outdoor market a few blocks from my place. We can go there to pick up ingredients.”
“Oh!” My eyes light up with excitement. “Maybe we can make one of my recipes. It’s been forever since I’ve had an actual kitchen to cook in.”
“I’d like that.” He reaches out, puts his hand over mine, and we ride the last few minutes in silence.
I’m scrolling through my rolodex of recipes in my head, purposely ignoring the nagging sensation in the back of my mind. I know it’s there, trying to remind me that we’re home and that this thing with Jude has to change. We either have to take a step forward or a step back. But maybe not. Maybe we can just be in this perfect state of happiness without the world pushing in from all sides, threatening to crumble our budding relationship before it even has time to grow.
“Jeez. Who ordered the limo?” Jude asks as we pull onto my street.
My heart instantly sinks. There’s no way.
Surely, that can’t be her.
“Shit,” I mumble under my breath as we drive closer. I recognize the distinguished looking driver positioned outside of the limo. David. He’s worked for my mother for twenty years, and he’s like a loyal sidekick, staying with her through both marriages; always in the background but consistently present.
My tongue drags along my top row of teeth as my instincts kick into overdrive. Jude cannot talk to her. My two worlds can’t collide like this. It’s too soon. I haven’t had nearly enough time with Jude.
“Charley?” he asks, placing his hand on the back of my neck, gently massaging. “Is everything okay?”
“Um, yes. It’s just…” Crap. Nothing. Absolutely nothing comes to mind, and I don’t want to lie to him. There are so many lies building on one another, this cannot be another.
In a blur of events, the cab driver stops, Jude pays him and hops out to grab our luggage. I slink out of the cab and try to hurry Jude along so he can get back into the cab before the dragon rears her ugly, coifed head.
“Clarissa, darling!” Her voice screeches through the air, like nails on a chalkboard. I haven’t seen her in four years, and this is how she decides to greet me— as if we do lunch three times a week.
I don’t turn toward her. My eyes stay glued on Jude as he pulls my bags out of the taxi and rests them on the sidewalk. But the moment she says my name, my old name, Jude’s head pops up and he looks past me. I know he connects the dots. Unless she’s stopped getting plastic surgery since I’ve been gone, we probably only look ten years apart in age.
“Darling, aren’t you going to greet your mother?” She pronounces every word slowly with her upper-west side hoity-toity accent.
Jude’s gaze volleys from her to me and then back again, trying to keep up.
F*ck.
With a disgruntled sigh, I swipe a hand over my face and turn toward her. This situation is happening whether I want it to or not.
“Hello,” I clip out, taking in her entire appearance. There isn’t a single strand of hair out of place on her beautiful blonde head. She has on tailored silk slacks, kitten heels, and a printed shirt that looks straight off the Fashion Week runway. Her makeup is flawless, concealing all of her inner ugliness from the rest of the world.
“Did you just get back from a trip?” she asks as her eyes scan down to my luggage— probably disgusted that I’m not using the monogrammed Louis Vuitton set she bought me when I turned sixteen. Sorry, I sold that a long time ago, mother dearest.
“We were in Hawaii for a shoot,” Jude answers simply. Can he feel the tension pulsing around us?
For the first time since we’ve arrived, her eyes fall on Jude. Her expression never falters. She doesn’t smile or frown; she simply stares toward him with a look of disinterest. “Oh, excuse Clarissa’s manners. I’m Mrs. Temple, and you are?”
“Jude,” he says, extending his hand to empty air. She doesn’t even look down at it, and she definitely doesn’t step forward to grasp it. I step closer to him, instinctively wanting to shield him from the vile woman that created me.
“How are you associated with this photo shoot, Jude?” she asks as his hand falls back down to his side.
“I’m a photographer,” he answers confidently with his head held high, not intimidated by her coldness in the least.
She glares toward me with an expression as if she’s just had a hefty whiff of sour milk. “Oh sweetie, a photographer, really? What has gotten into you lately? This isn’t how we raised you. When will you put this silly modeling behind you? How do you think I look when the ladies at the club ask about you posing for smut magazines in a bikini! Really, Clarissa, I expected better…”
“Mom!” I yell, before taking a deep breath. Don’t let her affect you, I remind myself.
“What are you doing here?” I bite out as calmly as I can, which is to say not calm at all.
A slow, wicked smile spreads across her lips and the expression sends a chill through me. “Oh, I’ve come over to help with the wedding planning, dear.”
You’ve got to be kidding me.
“You’re insane! What do…”
“I’m going to go…” Jude murmurs, interrupting my question and taking a step back toward the taxi.
“No!” I exclaim. This entire f*cking situation is wrong, but he’s the only part of this that I want, that I need, right now.
My mother clears her throat behind us before offering me advice in her prim tone, “It’s best not to lead on the poor boy. Does he know about your engagement?”
The entire world slows as her words filter through the air. I turn toward Jude just as his eyebrows push together in disbelief. Then, like rolling thunder, the expression takes over each of his features. His blue eyes glaze over in shock, his jaw clenches, and his hands tug through his beautifully dark hair, tousling it even further. Then suddenly, he’s turning on his heels, clenching his hands into tight fists, and walking off.
“Jude! Stop!” I run after him, but he climbs into the taxi without a single glance back. He slams the door closed, blocking me out. I don’t know what to do, so I bang on the window, trying to get him to stop. I bang so hard that my palm starts to sting, but he shakes his head, keeps his focus out through the front window, and tells the driver to leave.
“Jude!” I scream through the night air as I watch his taxi drive away. How did this happen? How the hell did he just steal my heart? I thought I was protecting it, so why do I feel like my entire f*cking soul just ground into the pavement underneath the weight of that cab’s tires?
“Mom! You’re delusional!” I scream, turning to face her and pacing forward with determined strides. “I broke off that ‘engagement’ four years ago. Why would you say something like that?! Are you actually insane or are you just trying to ruin what little of my life I have left?”
My hands hang in the air for a moment before I drag them down the sides of my face, trying to make sense of this woman in front of me. She glances down at her manicured fingers, not a hint of emotion marring her gorgeously evil features. “I guess one gets behind on the current events of their daughter’s life when they refuse to speak with them.”
Are her words meant to affect me? I don’t even know how it’s possible to hate her even more than I already do, but seeing Jude drive away adds one more notch to her growing list of vile deeds.
I force a slow inhale and exhale, and when I finally speak, my voice is eerily calm. “Mom, I need you to leave me alone. I’m not ready to be around you, and I don’t know if I ever will be. I’d rather not have a family at all than deal with a mother like you.”
I start to turn to collect my luggage, mistakenly thinking that the whole exchange had hit its peak, but then my mother glances up and I gaze at her icy blue eyes reflected back into mine. I don’t know what I expected to see, but cold, annoyance wasn’t it. “You always had a flare for the dramatic, Clarissa. It was embarrassing when you were growing up, but now it’s just pathetic. No one likes a depressed girl, not even that photographer.”
And with that bomb, she turns on her nude kitten heels and slides back into her limousine, leaving me like she has my entire life: ten times worse than the way she found me.