I’m exhausted by the time the rehearsals for the final show are done. My legs shake as I walk, and I yawn every few minutes.
“How is the lady doing?” Alisha asks. She let me use her phone as soon as she got there, but I left a voice mail. I still didn’t hear anything from Lucas, and there’s a sinking in my stomach that there’s something wrong.
“When I left, she was awake but I haven’t gotten any news.”
“Steve told me they were working on the song about Benji together with Olivia and then looking at a few shots this afternoon. He texted me before their meeting with Fabian.” She has a dreamy look on her face and I squeeze her hand.
“You sound happy.”
“Nope, I sound like I’m willing to take a chance. Steve’s been…nice and understanding. I saw him yesterday for dinner.”
“Oh…”
She swats my arm playfully and her cheeks flush slightly. “Well, we didn’t go on a dinner cruise on the Seine, but it was nice. Really nice.”
“Nice is good.” I link my arm with hers and instead of stepping into the courtyard, we take the back exit. There are still a few people set on asking me questions about last night, about whatever is going on, and I don’t feel like putting on a show.
I managed to call the therapist’s office during the ten minutes Igor gave me for lunch and I got an appointment for tomorrow. I know myself well enough to realize that once all this adrenaline and this robotic-keep-going mode slows down, I might crash. And I can’t crash. I don’t want to crash.
Snow flurries are falling down and I tilt my head back. “I always loved snow.”
“It is nice until it becomes all muddy.” Alisha wrinkles her nose when she says “muddy.” She comes from California and is always craving a seventy degrees climate and sunny and the waves of the ocean.
“How are you really doing?”
I haven’t told her yet about what the press might reveal soon, and I don’t want to talk about it outside, so instead I tell a half-truth. “Exhausted. Physically and mentally drained.”
Her cell phone rings and she smiles—it’s not a big smile, it’s one of those smiles that says she’s trying to keep her happiness close to her because she’s afraid it’s going to pop and disappear. I get it.
“It’s Steve. Lucas wants to talk to you.”
My heart jumps carefully. I’m not sure how he’s going to react about our picture taken together. “Hey…”
“Hi Laura slash Jen.” His voice is sad but warm and my heart jumps higher. “How did the rehearsals go?”
“Good. I mean Igor thought that I sucked, but overall I think good.”
He clears his throat at the same time I clear mine. “Go ahead,” he says.
“I saw the pictures. I’m so sorry about what you must have gone through today. How is Grand-mère Julie doing?”
“She’s doing better. Much better, actually.”
“I’m so glad to hear that.”
“As for the pictures, I should have known someone might have been there. I always have to be on my guard.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t see anything.”
“I know you are. I’d love to see you tonight, but I’m going to go back to the hospital.”
“I could come with you.”
“I think it’s best I go alone.” He breathes out. “I wish you could be there, but between what happened with the pictures, and your schedule, I don’t want to ask again.”
“Yesterday, you didn’t ask.” My voice is soft like the beginning of the song he wrote about our night. “I offered. Today, I am offering too. You shouldn’t have to do this alone.”
He hesitates for a second. “Olivia will be there,” he replies and there’s a pinch in my heart. “I’d love to see you before I leave though.”
“How about you pass by before going to the hospital tonight?”
“I wish I could, but we have to go back to the studio. We only have a two-minute break.”
“I’ll call you or text you. Grégoire got you a new phone with a new number, it should be delivered to your apartment tonight.”
“Thank him for me.”
“I will.” His voice turns lower, like he doesn’t want anyone to hear it. “I’m going to miss you. Is that crazy?”
“I don’t think so. I hope not. Because I’m going to miss you too.”
Alisha makes kissing sounds next to me and I chuckle.
“Bye, Jennifer Harrison. Wait, what’s your middle name? Tell me it’s Laura.”
I don’t want to hang up, so I stop walking. “My middle name is Sana—like my great-grandmother.”
“So why Laura?”
“It’s a stupid story.”
“Oh come on…” There’s a smile in his voice and hearing him happier warms my entire body.
“About two years ago, I was having coffee in the city. I was by myself and some random dude hit on me…and his first line was ‘Please tell me your name is Laura because my psychic told me I was going to meet a Laura today.’ When I told him my name wasn’t Laura, he then said, ‘Then you must be the angel she said I would kiss.’”
Lucas cracks up and I do too…that guy didn’t understand why I didn’t give him my number.
“That makes sense. And that’s a much better story than me using my middle name.”
There’s a scuffle in the background and the very annoyed voice of Grégoire comes through. Something about Lucas needing to remember his priorities.
“Go,” I whisper. “I’ll hang up.”
“Okay. I’ll talk to you later tonight or tomorrow.”
“Bye.” And I hang up quickly because if had waited, I think I’d fall asleep with the phone in my hand.
I ignore the alarm in my head reminding me how much Olivia and he have in common. I ignore the alarm in my heart telling me I could get hurt again. And I ignore the alarm screaming in stereo in my ears that I need to remember that falling for Lucas could be a bad idea.
Because what if it isn’t?
What if taking a risk is what I need?
I’m already falling.