Page 80 of The Now in Forever
I’m just waiting for my drink when I spot Ed sitting in the corner.
There’s an iced coffee in front of him, and he’s sitting with a man in thick, black-rimmed glasses, salt and pepper hair, and a huge beard that’s more salt than pepper. Next to them is… I do a double take.
Chloe Kramer, one of the hottest young actresses in Hollywood right now. She’s in practically everything—that new sci-fi movie, that new tennis movie, even the latest biopic about Diana Ross, surely cast not only for her amazing acting talents but also because she’s a dead ringer.
I look down at my still-soaked shirt. Can I sneak out without them seeing me? As I’m planning my escape, the barista calls out, “Hattie.”
Ed looks up from the table, and we lock eyes. The expression on his face makes my stomach plummet. I may actually be sick. It’s not one of joy, that's for sure. Shock. It’s pure shock. I give a half wave. When he waves back, both the bearded man and Chloe look over. There’s whispering at the table, and the bearded man laughs.
I grab my iced latte, leave the brownie, thrust my shoulders back, and am going to walk over when Ed pushes back from the table. He makes it over to me in four long strides.
“Hattie. What are you doing here?”
“I…uh…”
What am I doing here? I can’t believe I let Anh talk me into this. Honestly, I didn’t think he’d be working on a Saturday. I thought he’d be excited to see me.
“Surprise.”
He laughs, but it’s not a full body expression of joy. It’s an uncomfortable sound. “Yeah, you can say that again. What happened?”
I nearly forgot my soaking wet, transparent shirt. “It’s a long story. I didn’t know you’d be here.”
His eyes are huge. “You didn’t know I’d be here?”
“I mean at this coffee shop. Obviously, I knew you’d be in LA, I came to see you… Anh quit, and it sounded like a good idea…” I trail off.
Ed fishes his keys out of his pocket and hands them to me. “Westill have some things to go over. Just go to my place, and we can talk about it later.”
I feel like a child being sent to their room, but it’s not even my room. I want to hand the keys back. I want to say don’t bother, but I can’t. Despite this being one of the most uncomfortable situations ever, I still want to talk to him. I take the keys and avoid any further eye contact. I don’t look at the table of shiny, fancy famous people as I take my iced latte, hold my head as high as possible in my grubby cut-off shorts and wet shirt, and strut out the door.
CHAPTER 21
The last thing I want is to be impressed by the house, but as I turn the key in the blue door, open it, and step inside, it is genuinely impressive. Light-gray hardwood floors brighten up the sitting room as well as the huge windows and so many houseplants, it’s a little like stepping into a garden store.
I set my bag down and go over to the kitchen sink, splashing some cold water on my face, trying to wash away some of my humiliation. At least I don’t have to worry about getting my clothes wet. He didn’t even introduce me. I peel my shirt away from my skin and see why he didn’t, but it doesn’t make it feel any better.
The rest of the house is LA chic for sure. There is one bedroom with a huge king-sized bed half covered in a white fluffy comforter, all bunched up and tangled. Ed never made his bed at the beach house either. It’s good to see that’s still the same here. He hasn’t come to LA and suddenly become a different person.
I continue wandering to the back, where there is another sitting room with French doors that open out to a beautiful kidney-shaped pool sparkling in the late-afternoon sun. It’s completely fenced in with a tall hedge. I step outside, shrug off my sweater, peel off my wet shirt, shimmy out of my cut-off jean shorts, and jump in without a second thought. I haven’t thought through anything this whole trip. Whystart now? I hold my breath and sink to the bottom feeling like Dustin Hoffman inThe Graduateor Bill Murray inRushmore. They were right. There’s no better place to be when you’re feeling sorry for yourself than the bottom of the pool.
When I surface, I take a huge breath.
What was I thinking, coming here without even texting him first? He probably thinks I'm clingy, desperate, unhinged.I swim around casually at first, but the more my thoughts spiral, the more deliberate my strokes become. My breaths more measured. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth—until I’m too exhausted to be embarrassed anymore. Water runs down my body as I get out. I grab one of the towels on a shelf near the pool chairs, wrap it around myself, and sit, letting the sun warm my face. I shouldn’t have come here. I should’ve asked him when a good time would be to visit or if he even wanted me to be here. And what am I supposed to do now? Stay until Tuesday, while he meets with famous people and acts half annoyed that I’m here?
Nope.
Not going to happen. I grab my phone from my heap of clothes, pulling it out of the back pocket of my jean shorts. A few quick taps and a twenty-five-dollar fee later, my plane leaves first thing in the morning. I schedule a Lyft to pick me up at five a.m. Then I drag myself to the shower, throwing on the wrinkled blue sundress from my bag, putting on mascara, pinching my cheeks, and feeling like the capable woman I am again.
I keep expecting to hear the door, but there’s nothing. Silence echoes through the house.
Ed’s still busy.
I get out my notebook and try writing some of the scene I was working on before I left, but the words won’t come. So instead, I start scribbling something else. A business plan. I pull up the template I got from the nice people at the FFBIF and start filling it in.
At around six, there is a soft knock at the door.Ed’s standing there with a bag of takeout and a bottle of wine. He looks handsome but also utterly exhausted. His shoulders sag like his head is heavy.
“I thought you might be hungry.”
