Mismatch - By Nana Malone Page 0,74
was she that girl? Sitting around crying over a dude. A dude that she loved. “I mean, what would you have done if you were me? He’s too much. Too intense. And I can’t take any more shows like last night. I know it’s insecure, but I can’t help it. Seeing him with another woman—it’s not something I can look at night after night and be okay with it. He’s brilliant, but I can’t support him.”
Izzy nodded. “Sweetheart, I understand how you feel, but at the end of the day it comes down to trust and how he makes you feel about yourself when you’re with him.”
How did she feel when she was with him? Besides completely off kilter. “I feel alive. Like he sees me. Like I don’t have to be anyone other than who I was intended to be.”
Izzy smirked. “You sound like that theme song from that television show.”
Jessica rolled her eyes. “I need your help here, Iz. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
“Honey, as much as I’m dying to tell you to be with him and simply embrace your happiness, I’m afraid I can’t. You have to come to that conclusion all on your own. And you have to figure out what you want.”
She wanted Eli, but she couldn’t have him. “The two of us together would be a bad idea. I’ve got too much shit, and he’s, well, him, and so rigid sometimes, and so Samson. He’s an artist.”
Izzy grinned. “Rigid, huh?”
Jessica glared at her. “I swear my best friend is fourteen.”
“No, honey, you were thinking it.” Then more soberly, she added, “Jessica, don’t lose him because you’re afraid. If you think it really won’t work out, pick legitimate reasons and stick to them. Don’t manufacture them in your head. You deserve love. But you have to believe it first. Not to mention for an artistic type, he’s pretty straight-laced. I think it’s great that he grounds you.”
Jess sniffled. “Yeah, I guess you're right. For once, I picked the guy I should have picked.”
“Yeah, there's that.” Izzy rubbed her eyes then asked the million dollar question. “What are you going to do about managing him?”
Sadness enveloped Jessica like a cloud. Less than a month ago, she’d had no boyfriend and no star client. A few short weeks later, she’d already had and lost both. “I don’t know. After I broke up with him, he walked out on me.”
Izzy patted her arm as they huddled close on Izzy's couch with a throw over Jessica's legs. “Sweetie, if you want to be with him, why didn't you guys work it out? You have to give a little if you want to win big.”
Jessica sniffled again. Through the layer of tears, she reached for another tissue. “Because I’ll always see him with other women. I'll keep playing it over and over in my head.”
“But, honey, you're not really the jealous type. You’ve always had confidence in spades. At least you look the part on the outside.”
She dragged the blanket tighter against her. “It's easy to have confidence when you don’t care about something. Every guy I’ve ever dated I could put on a ton of bravado and walk because I really didn't care. I've been dating guys I knew weren’t the type I wanted. Knew were no good, and at the end of the day, didn’t really make me feel anything.”
“Then why did you go out with them?”
“No one better to do?”
Izzy barked out a laugh. “Even sorely depressed, you can make me laugh.”
“What am I going to do?” She sniffled some more and wiped her nose.
“Okay, you say he wanted to go away with you. Honey, no man wants to do that unless he's into you. Like really into you. He wants you.”
“But he's an artist and bad for me, and I think I'm sort of outgrowing my misfit life. It doesn't fit anymore.”
“You’re not taking any of that to heart, are you? I've noticed I see less piercings and fewer wigs. I didn’t want you to change yourself. I was just suggesting a little less facial hardware when you were meeting with clients.”
Jessica reached out to squeeze Izzy's hand. “I know, babes. Truth is, except for the Sanskrit tat on my back, that I can’t even see without the aid of a mirror, every single one of my piercings has been because of a guy. Because I broke up with a guy or because my mother drove me to drink. I figure being an