Josephine irritates me.
She hurt Jack, and as far as I’m concerned, she still hurts him by remaining in his life.
You can’t stay friends with your ex, especially not after they hurt you.
You just can’t.
It’s messy, and cluttered, and confusing.
I should know.
Jack and I aren’t what I would classify as friends. We don’t call each other, or check in with each other, or see each other intentionally, and yet it’s messy because sometimes I do have to see him and call him on Ashton’s behalf.
The fact he thought he needed to spend time with me last year getting closure just proves I’m right. When you break up with someone, move the fuck on. Don’t linger. That only blurs the lines that should have been drawn in the sand.
“Josephine has also tried to convince him to fire Belinda, but he’s not listening to her either,” Ashton says, forcing my thoughts back to our conversation.
Josephine lives in LA near Jack and has met Belinda many times. If she doesn’t like her either, after getting a feel for her in person, that says something. “So, what’s the plan?” When the trademark Ashton Scott confidence disappears from his eyes, I make wide eyes at him. This is so unlike Ashton. “You don’t have a plan?”
More loosening of that tie. “I’m about to get my ass on a plane to LA. That’s the plan.”
I mentally start making plans to organise the company jet for him. “When do you want to leave?”
“I’ve got meetings, Jessica.” Frustration laces its way through every syllable he utters.
“That has never stopped you before. Not when it comes to Jack.”
He stares at me for a long minute before finally getting to the heart of the matter. “I’m trying like fuck to give him the space he needs.”
And it all clicks into place.
Ashton wants Jack to succeed.
Desperately.
He also wants to be proven wrong. To be shown that he doesn’t have to worry so much about his friend anymore.
This is actually the longest stretch Jack has gone without booze and drugs. Perhaps this will be the time he does succeed.
And that’s the space Ashton wants to give him.
“You don’t want to show up there in case he is okay. You showing up will send him a message that you don’t think he can do this.”
Ashton nods, his eyes filling with an ocean of emotions that most never get to see from him. People think my boss is just an asshole. An arrogant man who bulldozes his way into getting what he wants. And sure, he can be those things, but he’s also so much more than those things. If he weren’t, I wouldn’t have him on my list of seven, that’s for damn sure.
“Okay,” I say, stepping up to help him even though that sand is beckoning me to come back and continue burying my head in it. “Here’s what we’re going to do. I’ll have the jet and the crew on standby, ready to leave whenever you need. I’ll take over liaising with Josephine so you can remove this task from your list and free up brain space for work. There will be an update on your desk every morning and every night as to how Jack is. If you want a more regular update, that can be arranged too. I’ll also keep on top of what’s reported about him and let you know anything I think you need to be aware of. And I’ll call his mother and report back with anything she has to say.” I pause, gathering my thoughts. “Have I missed anything?”
Ashton knows what doing this costs me. That’s clear in his eyes. He also knows that I know. It’s an unspoken communication between us. I know the things he does for me, and he knows the things I do for him, and the beauty of us is that we never have to discuss it. “You haven’t missed anything.”
“Good. Now, what did you need me for?”
“I need the schedule for the meetings Lorelei and I have coming up for the resort development. And I’m sending you an email with a list of meetings I need you to organise for the Japan development.”
“I’m on it.”
With that, I exit his office, and I sense an end to Testicular Tuesday.
I also sense that things with Jack are shifting and changing in ways I can’t imagine. Maybe in ways that will cause me to regret taking on some of Ashton’s worry.
But even as I think that, I know any regret I may have will disappear like it always does.
That’s what Jack does to me.
That’s what Jack’s always done to me.
He causes me to throw caution to the wind and embrace life in a whole other way to how I would normally embrace it.
And damn if I don’t like it. That sensation down deep that always flutters whenever Jack is in the picture. The one that’s fluttering to life right now at the thought of checking in on him.
Jesus, what have I just done?
2
Jack
Why the fuck am I here?
If I knew the real, honest answer to that question, my life would be a lot easier. Hell, it’d probably be a lot different too.
I survey the party I’ve been at for a total of eight minutes and wish like fuck I was anywhere but here. But this is what I do, and do it I must. Thirty-three is too young for me to have peaked, and without my work, I don’t know who I am.
Get in, do your thing, and get the fuck out.
Those were my manager’s words ten minutes ago when she called to ensure I was here. She also told me not to touch the booze, the blow, or the boobs. Her standard order whenever I attend one of these parties.
Belinda is a ballbreaker who throws out orders like she was born doing it. She came on board as my manager three months ago and hasn’t taken a day off from busting my balls. Her determination to get my career back on track, combined with her ability to create opportunities for me to do that are the only reasons I’m still working with her.
Fuck knows, everyone close to me thinks I need to fire her. And while I understand their concern—that she’s pushing me too hard, too soon, before I’m ready to deal with everything Hollywood will throw at me—none of them understand my career the way I do.
I fucked it up.
More than once.
And coming back from the mess I created this time is proving harder than ever.
I might be Jack Kingsley, and I might have been at the top of my game, but that’s the thing about being at the top. There’s a long way to fall, and I fucking fell. Fuck, did I fall.
Belinda took her job as my manager and ran with it. She ran so fucking fast and so fucking well that I’d be a fool not to maximise the opportunities coming my way.
People want to see me at these parties.
They want to see for themselves that I’ve dealt with my shit. That they can consider me for roles again. That I won’t fuck them over and screw their schedules and reputations up like I have in the past.
So, while Ashton and Josephine have spent time trying to convince me to avoid Hollywood events, I attend all of them. I started a month ago, and so far, so good. I haven’t succumbed to my addictions.
Ashton doesn’t think I have it in me to withstand the things that are my weakness.
I think I do.
And I’m fucking determined to prove that I can.
To him.
To the world.
But mostly to myself.