Complete Me(114)

Jamie and I rouse ourselves from our prone positions around lunchtime in order to take a walk along the beach. Damien doesn’t join us, claiming he’s too engrossed in his reread of Asimov’s I, Robot. Considering Damien’s love of science fiction, I do not doubt that the book has captured him, but I also know that the reason he’s not coming is because I asked him not to. I want some time to interrogate Jamie about her announcement that she is considering moving back home to Texas.

Once we’re actually out with the sun and the surf, though, I can’t seem to find the right moment. Instead, we chatter about nothing as we walk all the way through Damien’s property to the ocean, then north up the beach to our nearest neighbor. He’s tall and muscled and his coffee-colored skin is slick with the sea. He waves at us as he comes out of the water with a surfboard. Jamie, I think, is going to have a heart attack when she sees him.

“Who is he?” I whisper as we turn around and head back toward home.

“That’s Eli Jones. He won the Oscar for best supporting actor last year.” She shakes her head. “You really are hopeless.”

“I am,” I say. And, since I doubt I’ll find a better transition, I add, “It’s going to be hard to focus on your acting career if you move back to Texas.”

She lifts one shoulder in a shrug. “Yeah, well, we both know that it’s a long shot career. It’s not like I’ve taken LA by storm.”

We’re both barefoot, and now she kicks her toes through the water, sending droplets flying. They twinkle for a moment in the sun, then quickly fall, lost once again to the churning water of the ocean. I can’t help but think of Jamie; I want more for her than fifteen minutes of fame, and I fear that my lack of enthusiasm for her move is more about me than about what is best for Jamie.

“Whatever you decide,” I say firmly. “You know I’ve got your back.”

We’ve crossed the beach and are trudging back up the path to Damien’s house when my phone rings. I pull it out from where I’ve stashed it in the pocket of my terrycloth cover-up and am surprised to see Courtney’s name on the screen.

“Hey, Courtney. What’s up?” Courtney is Ollie’s fiancée, and we’ve known each other for years, though not as well as I’d like since she is constantly traveling for her job. Still, she’s sweet and genuine and I think she loves Ollie. I love him, too, but I don’t love the way he f*cks around, and even though Ollie ranks higher than Courtney on the best-friend-o-meter, I can’t help but feel that she deserves someone better.

Beside me, Jamie’s eyes are wide. What is it? she mouths, but I can only shrug.

“Ollie and I want to know if you and Damien are free on Tuesday night. Jamie, too. Is she with you? Ollie said she’s staying with you and Damien this week?”

I glance sharply at Jamie. She hadn’t told me that she’d told Ollie where she’s crashing. I shouldn’t feel suspicious—after all, they were friends before they f*cked, and I hope they’ll be friends after—but I can’t help but be nervous.

“Yeah,” I say, looking hard at Jamie, whose sheepish expression only makes me more nervous. “She’s here. What’s up on Tuesday?”

“Nothing specific. But I don’t have any trips this week, and we haven’t seen y’all in forever. I told Ollie that we should all go to Westerfield’s. You know it, right? That place in West Hollywood.”

“I know it,” I say wryly. Westerfield’s is one of Damien’s properties.

“So can you come?”