An Illicit Pursuit (22 page)

“How about this?” He shoves my hand down to
his crotch and grinds his semi-hard cock into my palm.

“I was coming to that,” I lie with a fake
smile on my face. I wish I had with Adam the same intimacy I shared
with Zach.

The waitress comes with our drinks, and I
take a swig from the cold piña colada, watching Adam from the
corner of my eye. He grabs his drink, lifts it to his lips, but
drops it back without taking a sip; all the while his eyes are
fixed on something. I turn to see what it is that shocks my man on
the spot and encounter a rather tall girl with long brown hair and
glittering, blue eyes entering the restaurant.

Adam can’t be checking out another girl, can
he? No way. Then, I spot Jack right beside the girl. Oh, well. Adam
wasn’t looking at the girl; he’s just seen his friend.

“She gets the same reaction every time,” Jack
says, when they arrive at our table. “This is Taylor.”

“Jackpot, she is a beauty.” I lift my hand to
shake. “Honey, you should go into the entertainment business. With
your beauty, I would bet everything I have you’d hit it big.”

“Oh, wow, Pat Carter. I’m a big fan.” Taylor
grabs my hand gently and gives me a shy smile, reminding me of
Zach’s innocent smiles.

She’s wearing a cheap dress, so old that its
color is fading. Her hair is in desperate need of styling, maybe
trimming to shoulder-length. A few highlights here and there would
do well, too. Her makeup is simple and clearly amateurish; light
mascara, even lighter lip gloss. Her skin is nice, though. Smooth
and spotless, and I doubt she pays for a facial to get such a clear
skin. She’s curvy, with large breasts, very thin waist line, and
round hips. Could make a successful lingerie model.

“She’s got good taste, too,” I say. “Don’t
screw it up, Jack.”

Taylor flashes pink at my compliment then
turns to Adam. “Hello, you must be Adam.”

Adam takes his sweet time to shake hands with
Taylor, making me wonder what’s gotten into him. He declined an
almost-naked Carmen Piana for me. He wouldn’t set his eyes on
Jack’s girl, would he? No way!

“He’s normally not like that.” I joke with a
brief laugh and squeeze Adam’s shoulder.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Adam blurts out and
releases the poor girl’s hand from his grip.

“Baby, are you all right?” I ask, still
confused about his reaction. “You’ve turned all pale. Look at your
lips.”

He gives me a dirty look, smiling, then
plants a sloppy kiss on my lips. “Nothing is wrong with me.”

While the waitress comes to take our orders,
I secretly study Adam’s expression. Okay, he might have looked a
little taken in the beginning, but he seems to be totally normal
now that the novelty of Taylor begins to wear off.

“So, Taylor,” I start. “Jack has been hiding
you from us for so long. We’ve been worried about him.”

Taylor blushes and turns down to look at her
hand that is laced with Jack’s. “That’s not entirely his fault.
I’ve been very busy with my studies. I’m on a scholarship, so I
have to maintain a high GPA to keep it.”

I smile, curious and bored at the same time.
“What are you majoring in?”

“Sociology.”

Definitely boring. All that studying and
sacrificing her youth and beauty, spending years in libraries and
classrooms. For what? She’d be better off landing a rich husband.
Which she’s actually successfully doing with Jack. I’m not sure how
much Jack’s company and assets are worth, but I have a hunch that
he must be worth around the eight-figure area. Taylor can dump her
Sociology studies if she manages to take Jack’s last name.

Jack raises their tangled hands and kisses
Taylor’s knuckles. “Adam and I used to hang out a lot at the
Humanities but never came across a beauty like you.” His expression
is totally that of a mesmerized lover when their eyes meet.

Oh, boy, she has him wrapped around her
little finger already. And she’s playing the embarrassed beauty
quite well, with all that reddening of cheeks and dropping of eyes.
I wonder what Eleanor will have to say about Jack’s new conquest.
Particularly now that her husband is parking his limousine in
someone else’s garage.

When Jack leans down and starts giving Taylor
a tongue-sucking kiss, I turn my head to avoid the view and find
Adam doing exactly the same thing. He’s bothered by their make-out
session, too.

I clear my throat, willing their foreplay to
end. “What else do you do besides studying and mesmerizing Jack?”
And sucking his tongue and other body parts. Hanging out with new
lovers as a couple isn’t much better than being a lonely third
wheel, since Adam and I don’t go all lovey-dovey in public.

She repeats some ultra-boring information
about her life, her part-time job, her hobbies, then asks about my
career. Although Jack and Adam know every detail about my
accomplishments, I relay everything to Taylor. I’d rather be the
speaking one than listening to the mundane details of an ordinary
girl’s life.

Adam is unusually absent while eating his
food, but I don’t think too much of it. He’s probably sad that I’m
leaving, and he’ll have to deal with being the third wheel with
Jack and Taylor for the next one and half months.

Adam and Jack share the bill after a lengthy
discussion of why the other one shouldn’t pay. Ahh, men. I guess
they’ll never stop competing over whose cock is bigger.

We say goodbye, head to out to Adam’s car,
and start driving after my bodyguard gives us the all clear. Adam
continues keeping his mouth shut throughout the drive, and I don’t
want to be the one to dwell on the possible reasons for his awkward
silence.

Right before the Rodeo drive and Wilshire
crossing, Adam stops the car and jumps out without bothering to
kill the engine first. I hear him yelling “Shit, look at this,” as
he walks behind the car. I turn around to see what he’s talking
about, whether we had a flat tire or another problem. But once I
spot a blue and grey Lamborghini parked in front of the Beverly
Wilshire Hotel, I smirk, shaking my head.

Men and their toys. I pull the key out of the
ignition and climb out. Adam isn’t the only man whose mouth is
watering at the sight of the Lamborghini, because there’s a whole
group of at least six men around the car, studying it, taking its
picture. I let out an exasperated breath and move toward the Escada
store beside the hotel. I shouldn’t be upset about Adam’s intense
interest in sport cars; at least he’s not going crazy after another
woman.

I eye the showcase in front of the store,
unsure whether I should go in and embark on a mini shopping spree
or just wait outside until Adam’s worshipping is over. Nora must
have packed clothes enough to fill a truck already, I think to
myself, and go back toward the spectacular car.

The men around the car are laughing and
commenting on the superior engine and design; more pictures are
taken, and I can’t help but feel jealous. I’m a
multi-million-dollar singer and pretty too, but I don’t get that
much attention from passers-by. Okay, I do my best to camouflage
myself with sun glasses and large hats, but still, some recognize
me. I can see it in the spark of recognition in their eyes, but not
once have I gotten such a reaction on the streets as that stupid
car is having now.

Oh, crap. I’m so pathetic, I can even be
jealous of a non-living thing.

Adam walks around the car, analyzing it like
his life depends on it, and I notice a man, his back toward me,
moving toward Adam.

“Tell your rich girlfriend to buy you one
like this.” I hear the man say, and a sudden wave of shock freezes
me in the spot. Who’s that man, and why does he sound so
familiar?

“Maybe I will,” Adam replies, his tone harsh,
and turns toward me, so does the mysterious man. As soon as I see
his face I understand why my body reacts to him.

It’s Zach. My Zach. The father of my dead
child, the man who apparently still owns my heart, because it
starts trumpeting as soon as our eyes clash.

I remove my sunglasses to get a better view
of him. My legs move toward him despite having received no order
from my brain to do so; my hands lift in the same manner, aching
and longing to touch him. How many years have passed? How many
painful days without feeling him complete me and fill the emptiness
in me?

“Zach.” I feel my lips move; the intimacy in
my voice scares me. Adam must be somewhere around, but my eyes can
only see Zach and his chocolate-brown eyes, sorrowful like mine
always are.

A strained smile crosses his lips, and his
eyes flicker up and down my body. His hair is longer, thick curls
reaching down to his earlobes, partially covered by a blue
yarmulke. A navy suit is hiding the body that once I knew like the
back of my hand. He’s not the boy I left four years ago. He looks
bulkier with newly added muscles and is much more confident in his
skin.

My eyes look for his left hand to check for a
wedding band, but he keeps it hidden in the pockets of his slacks.
He must have married by now and maybe has a kid on the way. His
mother must be proud of him for staying true to his religion and
restraining himself from the sinful life I’d have given him.

“How are you?” He asks, breaking our mutual
hypnosis. “You look good.”

“I’m good.” Am I really? “You look good
yourself. How is life treating you?”

His eyes lose focus for a brief second, as if
getting lost in the dark. Does he still hold a grudge against me?
Does he still love me?

“Not so well,” he confesses, and I use all my
control to stifle the tears pushing their way out.

“Do you know each other?” Adam interrupts us.
I can’t even move my eyes away from Zach to glance at Adam. Zach
has me so paralyzed.

Zach nods, smiling. Adam has no idea how well
Zach and I know each other.

“Wait a minute,” Adam pauses. “Weren’t you
from Colorado?” he asks to Zach. Oh, well, maybe he has some idea
about the level of our acquaintance. “Pat,” Adam’s voice is harsh
and demanding with a hint of hurt. But, I can’t, for the love of
God, rip my eyes away from Zach. I haven’t seen him for so long, I
wasn’t even aware I missed him so much that I could just be content
with merely looking at him for as much as I was allowed to.

“Please, Adam.” My eyes finally break the
spell, and I turn to look at Adam. “Please give me a minute and
wait for me in the car.”

Adam takes a long breath, two, then without
saying anything, spins on his heels and strides to the car.

“I haven’t heard about you for so long.” I
turn back to Zach. “Oh, god. There hasn’t been a day in this past
four years that I didn’t wonder how you’d handled our breakup.” My
confession shakes me to the core, but Zach doesn’t seem to be taken
by it.

“Why?” He takes a step toward me. A hint of
aftershave reaches my nostrils, and I inhale whatever I can get
from him. “Why do you wonder about me? Doesn’t Adam give you what
you need? Or is his expiration date approaching, too?”

My jaw drops with shock and dismay. My heart
constricts. “I didn’t leave you because I got tired of you. I told
you it was for your family.”

“Now, now. Blame it on my family. Right. How
could I forget the good, old trick to dump your unwanted boyfriend
without appearing guilty?” He pulls his hands out of his pocket to
run them through his hair, stopping halfway to keep his yarmulke in
place. I examine his fingers carefully and see no ring. He didn’t
marry? Why not?

“Are you with someone?” I ask, again without
thinking. People pass beside us, chatting on the phone or with one
another, oblivious to our talk.

Zach shakes his head, a painful smile on his
lips. His posture is rigid, as if he’s restraining himself from
doing something. “Since you care so much. Yes, I am with someone. A
sweet girl who doesn’t care about money or fame and who loves me
for who I am. I’ll marry her and make her the mother of my
children. There, you got it. Now you can sleep without feeling
guilty for my wellbeing, because you leaving me was the best thing
that could happen to me.”

My chest tightens suddenly, and I gasp for
air. The damage his words are causing in me is too much to bear. I
put the sunglasses back on and run away, crying and without knowing
where I’m going. My shoulders crash into the other passers-by on
the street. Some stop and yell at me, but I keep on running. I
don’t know how long my legs have been on the go, but it’s dark when
Adam’s arms wrap around me and help me back in the car.

At home, he sets a warm bath ready for me and
holds my hand as I step in. The images of Zach holding another
girl, a sweet one who doesn’t care about money or fame, makes me
sick in the stomach. I didn’t wish for things between us to turn
out this way. Zach hating me makes me want to hate myself, too.
However, I’m well aware of how destructive self-hatred can be for
me.

Adam settles beside the bathtub, squishes a
handful of shampoo, and begins shampooing my hair. His hands are
gentle, his fingers massaging my scalp, neck, and shoulders. I can
do it again, forget Zach, erase the memories of what I did to him,
and get out of this temporary turmoil and become as strong as I can
ever be.

With Adam’s support.

My eyes must be swollen from crying for so
long, my makeup smeared. I probably look hideous, and these will be
the last moments I’m sharing with Adam before the long haul of the
movie shooting. Ugly and broken. Suddenly, the fifty days ahead of
me without Adam seem like torture.

How did I agree to separate from him for so
long in the first place? Have I seriously thought I could live
without my Valium that is Adam? I wish there was a way to convince
him to come with me. If I talk to his boss or get him fired? He
probably won’t come even so, and would stay here, hire a lawyer,
and sue the company.