Falling into Forever (Falling into You) - By Lauren Abrams Page 0,28
of the chairs. I spin around, open the glass doors, and grin at him. He must have pulled some serious strings to get his ass here so fast.
“What did you do, Marcus, steal a plane?”
“Called in a serious favor. You owe me one. Or two. Or fourteen.” He flops onto the horsehair sofa. “Shit, Jensen, this thing should come with a ‘do not sit’ warning. It’s a couch, for chrissakes, and it’s stabbing me in the ass.”
“It was a Lena purchase. Sorry, man.”
He pulls a few long white hairs from his sweater, cursing every one. “Just once, you could have screwed an interior decorator and at least gotten something of worth from one of your little flings. This place looks like shit. I’m guessing it’s probably some of Lena’s doing. Tell me this, Jensen. How’d you get rid of Lena ballerina? I’m assuming you are rid of her, of course. I think that’s a fair assumption since you just called me about Hallie Caldwell.”
“Don’t ask.”
“Oh, I most certainly will ask. You have no idea how many times I’ve had to throw the sluts out into the streets. It’s always the same—the crying, the shrieking, the desperate pleas for just one more chance with you. It’s my greatest pleasure in life to see you doing your own dirty work for a change. You have to give me this. Just once.”
“It was expensive.”
“Come on. Details, Jensen.”
“She gets three all-expenses-paid weeks at the Ritz Carlton while she finds alternative living arrangements. I think that managed to soothe her aching heart.”
“And? You can’t tell me that you got off that cheap. I don’t buy it.”
“And a shopping spree at Tiffany’s.”
“Don’t tell me you gave her your credit card. Please. That would be too good.”
I look at him blankly. Had I?
I was in a total daze when I arrived home from the hotel. The only thing I could think about was Hallie and how she had fallen into my arms. And, unfortunately, how she had promptly fallen back out of them. It was an extremely unpleasant surprise to find Lena, my latest conquest, making plans for the redecoration of my apartment. She was hustling the delivery men around like she owned the place. Honestly, I didn’t even remember giving her the key. It must have been an oversight in my eagerness to get the Rage project up and rolling. After a certain amount of hollering and shrieking and one serious slap that’s probably left a permanent mark on my face, I managed to extract the key I had given her before slamming the door. I wasn’t so sure about the credit card.
Marcus’s laughter is coming out in gulps and spurts now, and he’s struggling to get air.
“Cancel it. If you didn’t give it to her, she probably stole it. You never give them the credit card. Never.”
“I’ll try to remember that.”
He’s still howling as I walk over to the bar. Although it had been devoid of any actual alcohol for more than two years, the fancy bottles remain, filled with water and food coloring. I pour him a glass of water from the sink and hand it to him.
“Wouldn’t want you to choke, now.”
Although he’s still only barely able to cover his laughter, Marcus finally manages to get some words out. “I warned you about shitty bitches, man.”
“A dime a dozen.”
We both say it at the same time, and he raises his glass before peering into my face more closely.
“Time is money, Jensen. And every minute I’m here is fucking thousands of dollars going down the drain. So, tell me. How’s Hallie?”
I can’t even think of how to begin to answer that question, so I sigh instead.
Marcus groans. “Fine. At least tell me if she’s still fucking hot.”
“She’s beautiful. A thousand times more beautiful than she ever was. And sad. Grown-up. Sophisticated. Alluring. Infuriating. Lovely. Devastated. Broken into a million pieces but unwilling to let anyone make it right. Fuck.”
“So, where is she? Wouldn’t mind laying my eyes on Hallie Caldwell, all grown up.”
“She’s gone.”
“Hallie remains immune to your charms? I know I’m shocked.” Marcus gives me a knowing look. “Jensen, we’ve been through this. You and she were like a fucking Rockwell painting, minus the weird little dogs and the 1950s tableau of the perfect happy family. You were perfect for each other. And then you fucked up and she fucked up and it was a downward spiral of anger and jealousy and alcoholism. You can’t go backwards, man. That will never work.”