Believe Me, It's You Read online

  She reflected back on their meeting at Cap's party. Brief as it had been, she'd come away star-struck and impressed. Not just by his gorgeous face and beautiful eyes, but also by his demeanor. He was self-possessed and confident, but somehow humble, too. How hard was that to master for a 20 year old star with a few hundred million dollars and the voice of an angel?

  She spent the rest of the evening watching shows she had recorded while she was in Los Angeles. Survivor was on and it reminded her of her days at Skandian and Burke, the architectural firm where she worked as an interior designer before becoming a full time writer. And where she met Paul, an architect the firm hired three months after she started. Marta, the receptionist there, loved Survivor and they used to get lunch together on Thursdays and rehash the show from the night before. She missed the office friendships, especially Marta. The woman was stunning to look at, a great first impression when clients walked through the door. A tall, African American princess with every hair in place, nails perfect, beautiful dress, high heels she never seemed to stumble in, and utterly cool, professional demeanor. More than one client had tried to lure her away from the firm for their own offices, but Marta was loyal and Eva figured Ed and Sylvia (the firm's married co-owners) rewarded her for that loyalty. And Marta was the only one in the firm who had the balls to tell Eva what was going on between Paul and the woman who ran the news stand in the lobby of the firm's office building. She offered to drive Eva home that evening about a year ago. They sat parked a block away from the apartment and she gave Eva the news that would change everything. Apparently, everyone knew at the firm, but Eva, and of course, Ed and Sylvia because they didn't mettle in their employees' personal dramas.

  She'd quit the next day, after a teary, late-night confrontation with Paul, during which she never let on it was Marta who told her about the affair. He left during the night, after packing two full suitcases, and she had no desire to go back to the place their romance had played out, so she resigned. For someone as private as Eva, the thought that everyone knew was devastating.

  And Marta was the one to call her everyday and check on her and beg her for forgiveness for being the one who told her. Eva reassured her-no, thanked her, again and again, through tears, for having the guts to tell her. And Marta was the one to call her two Fridays after she quit and let her know Ed Skandian had gotten wind of the affair and fired Paul with shouting and slamming of doors, and the declaration that if Paul's own wife couldn't trust him, Ed sure as hell didn't.

  Eva never forgot Ed and Sylvia, and she tried to go in and have lunch with Marta every so often. Three months ago, between flights out to L.A., Eva had decided to go in and surprise Marta with a CD she had Capital T sign for her. She knew Marta was a fan and hopelessly celebrity-crazy, so she wanted to give it to her right away. She stuck the CD in a little shopping bag she had at the apartment, and took the L the three stops to the office. She had a feeling of dread as she walked through the lobby, knowing Paul's mistress still worked there. As she turned the corner for the elevators, she caught a glimpse of the news stand out of the corner of her eye. She couldn't help but look. And there stood the woman-thin, Asian and at least 5 years younger than Eva, working at the cash register. She was talking to a customer and didn't see Eva staring. She came around the counter to get a newspaper for the customer and Eva was shocked to see the woman swollen and pregnant, due any day from the looks of it. Eva felt sick. She wanted to run home and cry. She forced herself to go upstairs and deliver the CD to Marta. As she walked to the receptionist's desk, Marta glanced up and said, “Hey, girl, what's up?” Then her bright smile faded and it dawned on her and she stood up and walked over to Eva.

  “You saw the woman. Don't let it bother you. And please don't be mad at me for not telling you. I didn't want to hurt you anymore than you'd been hurt already.” She steered Eva to a conference room and left the door cracked enough to hear the phones.

  “I know. It's okay, Marta. Do you know if they're still together?” she asked tentatively.

  I've seen them together in the lobby. I'm pretty sure they're still a couple.”

  Eva nodded. “Well, it is what it is. No baby for me. But she...”

  “Don't do that, Eva. He's an asshole. Everybody knows that, but you. Why don't you know that? And she's stuck with him. All the things you hated about that jerk, she's stuck with, now. He's not gonna be good at diaper duty. You should pity her. For real.”

  Eva couldn't help but smile. “Why didn't you tell me all that before I married him?”

  “You were gone, Honey. Nobody was telling you anything. Besides, I can't go around telling all my friends their man is an asshole. I wouldn't have any friends left if I did that.”

  Eva laughed. She loved Marta. “ I got you a gift. That's why I came by, actually, not to spy on my husband's mistress.”

  “Mmm hmm,” Marta laughed. “What did you bring me?” Eva handed over the bag, and Marta opened it and took out the CD.

  “Oh, thank you! I love Capital T, but I don't have this one yet. I thought it wasn't out yet.”

  “It's not! Look inside,” Eva was excited for her to see.

  “'Marta, To a delicious, tall drink on a sunny day. Love and best wishes, Capital T.' No way. He didn't really sign this did he? Oh my god, I'm framing this. Is this for real?”

  “Yeah, I described you to him and he wrote what he wanted,” Eva said, pleased at Marta's reaction.

  “Girl, please leave now because I have to call everyone I know and tell them Capital T thinks I'm a delicious, tall drink on a sunny day!” Marta laughed, obviously beside herself.

  “Don't go selling it on eBay,” Eva teased.

  “No way!” She hugged Eva and said, “Thank you. Don't let this thing eat at you. You'll come out alright in the end and that's more I than I can say for Paul.”

  “Okay. And you're welcome. I couldn't wait to give that to you,” she smiled.

  “Have lunch with me? I can get away in about 10 minutes,” Marta looked hopefully at Eva.

  “I'm sorry. I've got a dentist appointment, but I wanted to get that CD to you,” Eva felt a twinge of guilt lying to Marta, but it was almost noon and everyone she used to know was about to emerge from their offices, leaving for lunch. She just wasn't up for that right now, knowing they knew, and she didn't, once again. Feeling foolish.

  She'd gone home and cried for a while, had a glass of wine, which she didn't really like and mustered the courage to call Sarah and let her know the latest in what was adding up to a long line of crappy things Paul had done. She felt better when she finished talking to her best friend, and the next day she'd been summoned back to L.A., and began a mini-tour with Capital, getting more material for the book. It was great timing, because she was able to push everything (Paul, the baby, his new life without her) out of her mind for a while.

  But now she was home, and the thoughts were creeping back every so often. She hadn't discussed the situation with Marta again, and she figured the baby must have been born by now. She wondered if it was a boy or a girl. What did it look like? Did it have Paul's shiny brunette hair and green eyes? Maybe it looked like its mother- Asian, with lovely skin and exotic eyes.

  When she had enough of that kind of torture, she thought about her novel. The one she started while she was still with Paul. “In happier times” as they say. She hadn't worked on it since she started the Capital T project and every time she thought about it, she had the urge to delete it.

  She managed to get her sore, stiff body off the couch and sit up. She didn't realize cleaning could be so physical. She made a mental note to get up early enough to take a quick run around the neighborhood before they delivered the new sofa, and she hauled herself off to bed.

  Chapter Four

  She got up bright and early, just like she'd promised she would, and pulled on her running shorts and an old t-shirt. She was looking for one of her running shoes when she heard her phone from the other room. She ran to answer it, not bothering to look
at the number.

  “Hello?” she said.

  “Hey, Eva. How are you doing?” it was Dylan, his voice sounding sleepy. “I didn't wake you up, did I? It's a couple hours later there, right?”

  “Yes, it is and no you didn't,” she said, noting it must be 5:00 am in L.A. because it was still only 7:00 in Chicago. Either he was an early riser, or he hadn't gone to bed yet.

  “I was up early. I'm getting ready to go out running,” she said.

  “Oh, sorry, I won't hold you up. I wanted to see if tomorrow was still a go?” he asked.

  “Yep, I'm looking forward to it,” she said. “Have you made all your travel arrangements?”

  “Yeah, it's all set. And I got the address. We have a driver who's from Chicago, so I'm sure he'll find it.”

  We? She wanted to ask, but decided it really wasn't any of her business.

  “Okay, well again, I hope you have a safe trip. Would you like me to have something ordered in to eat? Or I could make something...” she asked.

  “No, you don't have to do that,” he said. “I'm sure we'll just grab something on the way over from the airport.”

  They said their goodbyes, and Eva was relieved he was still coming. The more she thought about it, the more she wanted this project. She found her other shoe and her headphones, turned on her music, and left the apartment.

  Eva had a good run, and returned home to find the furniture delivery truck outside and the men waiting, looking aggravated and bored, by her front door.

  “Hi,” she said. “I thought you were coming at 9:00.”

  “We got an early start. You lead the way,” he motioned toward the front stairs, two of the men already unloading her sofa from the truck.

  As soon as the sofa was in place, and the men had left, Eva surveyed the room. Looks pretty damn good. It had been a perfect choice. Comfortable and casual, but still slightly feminine. She took off her shoes and padded down the hall to get a shower.

  As she was climbing out of the shower, she heard the phone ringing in her bedroom. She wrapped a towel around her, grabbed the phone, and saw Sarah's face on the screen. She stretched out on the bed.

  “Hello!” she said, happily.

  “Hi, Stranger! Why haven't you called? You got back last week, right?” she loved to hear Sarah's voice. They had been friends since Eva moved to Chicago over ten years ago. They had both briefly worked in an insurance office and shared their days laughing at the shear craziness of the people with whom they worked. They both got out of that madhouse within a year, each going on to start their real careers. Sarah was an editor at a huge publishing house in the city. She had helped Eva get her first ghostwriting assignment. Eva had left for the architectural firm to begin her career in interior design. She had double majored in college, her real love being English. She wanted to be a novelist, but bills had to be paid. Through the twists and turns of fate, and her husband's infidelity, she'd become a full time writer, and for that she was grateful.

  “Sorry I didn't call. I was getting settled in again, you know, cleaning and errands,” she felt guilty. Everything was happening so fast since her return. “I might have a new client.”

  “Really? Already? Who?” Sarah asked.

  “You won't believe me if I tell you. And it's not a done deal, he's just testing the waters right now.” she was itching to tell, but wanted to make Sarah work for it.

  “'He?' Who is it? Tell me!”

  “Have you ever heard of Dylan Moore?” she teased.

  “Fuck you. You're lying,” Sarah said, sounding truly stunned.

  “Nope!”

  “Liar.”

  “I met him at Capital's party,” she was ready to tell Sarah all about it now, no more teasing.

  “You are crazy. You're ghostwriting for Dylan Moore,” she sounded shocked. “Don't you know this is going to change your life?”

  “What do you mean?” Eva laughed.

  “You will be at the top of the heap. He is mega. This is your money, Honey. Every celebrity will know who you are and you will be in major demand.”

  “Oh, I don't know. They don't call it “ghostwriter” for nothing. I'll write the book, it'll sell a gazillion copies because it's Dylan Moore, and I'll have some good money for a while, if I negotiate a good deal. Besides, I haven't gotten it yet. I don't think he's sold on the idea of writing a tell-all just yet. He's 20, you know.”

  “Wow, young meat. That's what you should call him. Ask him if he minds if you call him 'young meat.'” They both laughed.

  “Okay. I'll ask him,” she said.

  “Liar, you will not,” Sarah shot back. “So what's he like? Detailed description. Is he shorter than you? Did you have to look down to talk to him?”

  “Uh, no...I had heels on, and I had to look up to talk to him. And Sarah, he's really gorgeous.” Eva remembered the soft, sandy hair and those eyes...

  “Oh god. Teenybopper. Is he really tall now?”

  “Yeah. Well, he's taller than me and I had heels so....he's got to be at least 5'10.”

  “No way. Lifts. He had lifts on,” Sarah said.

  “You're ridiculous. Men don't wear lifts anymore. He's just tall. He grew. Boys do grow, you know,” Eva loved feeding Sarah's naughty side.

  “Oh yeah, they do grow. And you're gonna turn cougar on me, aren't you?”

  “Ha, ha. I'm only 32. That's way too young to be a cougar,” she despised that term and Sarah knew it.

  “I know, just kidding,” Sarah said. “Does he call you ma'am?”

  “No! He calls me 'Eva' in a really sexy voice,” Eva countered.

  “Aw, sweet. Well, I've seen pictures of him shirtless and he can call me whatever he wants,” Sarah said.

  “Old pervert,” Eva laughed. “He's coming here for a meeting with me tomorrow. Casual, you know. At my place.”

  “Well, let me know how it goes. I never should have moved to the 'burbs. All the action's in the city. You did clean, right?”

  “Duh. Of course. It's sparkles here. And I got a sofa. It's a gray sectional, and it looks beautiful.”

  “What about new sheets? For your bedroom?” Sarah said.

  “Shut up, Pervert,” Eva laughed.

  “Yeah, we'll see, Cougar. He needs an older woman like you to turn him out. And help him hit those low notes.”

  “Whatever. His voice is gorgeous. You should hear him just talk, Sarah,” Eva said. “He sounds like an angel. A sexy boy angel.”

  “Eva's got a crush. Eva's got a crush,” Sarah laughed.

  “Whatever,” She laughed. “Well, wish me luck. This could be really good for my career.”

  “Good luck. And don't worry. This job's it, Eva. It's gonna change your luck, mark my words.”

  “We'll see. I'll call you Thursday,” she said.

  “Okay. Call me. I mean it,” Sarah said.

  After she hung up, Eva called Maria, her hair stylist and booked an appointment for the next morning. She was in desperate need of a haircut, and on a whim, she scheduled a manicure. She was debating a pedicure. Would her toes show? What shoes would she wear? And then it hit her, she had no idea what she was wearing tomorrow. What would be appropriate for a meeting at home? Casual, but probably not jeans. Maybe a skirt with tights. It was still way too warm in Chicago for that. She'd end up sweating. She went to her closet and fished around, not finding anything she wanted to wear. She'd have to get up early and go buy something. She wanted to look pretty. Maybe Sarah was right. Eva's got a crush. Oh well, it felt good to have a tiny crush. What was the harm? She'd felt dead (or worse) for too long now. It was nice to want to feel pretty again.

  Chapter Five

  She woke up feeling nervous and excited. She was trying not to get her hopes up too much, but tonight could be a huge opportunity for her.

  She got her shower and dressed quickly. She wanted to get her shopping out of the way before her hair appointment. She put her long, dark brown hair up in a ponytail, then wrapped it into a bun, hoping it woul
d stay until she made it to the salon. It'd gotten so long, all she ever did was put it up and out of her way. No make-up. She'd just have to redo her face later, so why bother? She threw on some flats and headed out.

  She ducked into the first clothing store she passed, which happened to be a new boutique two blocks from her apartment. The dresses were all on hangers against the walls. Usually, she looked for an outfit someone else had already put together, and she bought it all right down to the accessories. Then she didn't have to bother considering and thinking. Sarah said she shopped for clothes like a man.

  But this place only had dresses on hangers. No outfits. She looked through them one by one, until she came to a pretty halter dress in silky fabric and a soft peach print. She picked out a small, soft gray cashmere cardigan. Then she found a pair of shoes down the street from the boutique-a gray slip-on with a tiny heel. Satisfied, she grabbed some coffee, and waited until time for her salon appointment.

  “Hey, girl! I haven't seen you in a while,” Maria said when she walked in the door. “I was just looking at your card. It's been six months! You haven't been chopping your own hair have you?”

  “No, I actually haven't done anything to it, aside from shampooing and blow drying.”

  “Well, come hop in the chair and let's see what we've got.”

  Eva sat staring at herself while Maria undid her bun and loosened her impossibly long hair.

  “Oh. My. God. This is so long, Eva! Wow, it grew so much,” Maria sounded amazed.

  “I know, I know. Well, six months is a long time. I think it's almost down to my waist.” She looked at it in the mirror and the ends were too long to see.

  “What are we gonna do?” Maria asked as she played with the hair while looking at it in the mirror.