Chapter Twelve: Jack
All I wanted to do was grab Mona by the hand and get the hell out of there. I hated the way all these people fawned over me. I didn’t like being the center of attention, which is something I realized even before Marissa died. It was one of the reasons I had taken to photography in the first place, because being behind the camera lens gave me some sense of distance from the crowds. It was safer there. It kept people at a distance.
These people were okay one-on-one, colleagues and even friends that I’d had drinks and conversations with, and all of that was okay, but now? I felt like I was trapped in a zoo and I couldn’t get out.
They surrounded me after I received the award and finished my speech. I felt almost claustrophobic, wishing I could get out, get away, get in a car and go as far as I could all by myself.
No, not all by myself. With Mona. My heart beat at the thought. Did she realize I’d been talking to her during that speech? That every word I said was about and to her? When I talked about love it was because I was living in love, every molecule of my being, because of her?
I knew she wasn’t ready. I knew she was skittish and maybe didn’t even believe in love, but I also knew that this thing between us was growing and deepening with every moment we spent together. And I wanted to spend every moment I could with her.
Unfortunately, I was stuck having a deadly dull conversation with the head of the environmental organization I worked with to get some of my foundations running, with nothing to save me but my glass of whiskey. It was a great foundation, but the CEO of it was dry and humorless and often had no clue how much personal space people needed in social situations. My claustrophobia was rising, and I searched desperately for Mona.
There she was, finally, heading towards me, champagne in hand and on the arm of the environmental lawyer, Birdie Macallister, a beautiful girl dressed in white. They looked stunning together, molten gold and ivory, and a pang of an unfamiliar emotion went through me. Jealousy.
I blanked as the droning conversation went on, turning the feelings of jealousy over and examining them. Why was I jealous? I’d never been jealous before. With Marissa, I had never felt the need to be jealous. I was sure of her utter devotion to me. I hadn’t deserved it because I hadn’t been faithful to her. But I knew she’d never cheat on me. And since Marissa had died, all my relationships had been short-lived, and I’d never really cared if they were with someone else.
But Mona? I cared very much. I wanted her to be with no one but me. I was devoted to her. But I was not so sure that she returned the feelings. In fact, I was sure she still thought this was still a ‘what happens in The Virgin Islands stays in The Virgin Islands’ kind of thing and why wouldn’t she make a connection with a great woman like Birdie? I did not like her insistence that we were just a momentary thing, a fling. Because it didn’t feel like that to me at all.
I was now wearing Marissa’s shoes in my relationship, and didn’t I just deserve to be discounted the way I had discounted her? I had to laugh at myself, and the CEO thought I was laughing at some joke he’d made and chuckled happily at who knew what. I didn’t know, but I also didn’t care because Mona was there.
I caught her eyes, and they were filled with an emotion I couldn’t identify. It frightened me a little. I reached a hand out to her, and she ducked her head and came to me, sliding her hand around my waist.
“You were wonderful,” she said quietly. I put my arm around her shoulder and held onto her.
“Congratulations, Jack,” Birdie said. “It was a wonderful speech and you deserve the award, but I do hope you don’t mind if I take my boss, now. I have something very important to talk to him about.” Then, she winked at me.
“Of course,” I said in surprise. She was saving me from her boss? She had brought Mona to me and then saved me from my terrible conversation. I felt foolish in my jealousy. And so relieved to have Mona back with me again.
“I am going crazy in this crowd. I hate being the center of attention. How soon do you think we can ditch this party?”
“Well, you’re the guest of honor, so we probably have to stay a little bit.” I groaned and she poked me in the side. “Don’t tell me you don’t like crowds.”
“I don’t like crowds. It’s one of the reasons I was always leaving, getting out, and getting away to where I could process the world around me through my camera.”
She was looking at me like she’d never seen me before. And maybe she hadn’t. “You have all sorts of layers to you that I didn’t realize. I never would have thought you would have social anxiety. You always seemed so at ease.”
“Liar. I was a jackass when I was nervous and you know it.”
“Oh. Okay. I can see that now. Well, how about we make our rounds, you take your applause from everyone, and then we sneak off and go on our own adventure.”
“I like the way that sounds, except for the making the rounds. I had to make a speech, Mona; now I have to be social?”
“I’ll keep you calm,” she said. “Just breathe with me.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath and let it out. I just watched her. Watching her was soothing. She cracked an eye. “You’re not breathing with me.”
“Oh, right,” I said and followed her instructions. It did make me feel better, although that might have been just having her with me. I walked around and let people congratulate me, and by the time the band was starting, we found ourselves near a door, with freedom just on the other side.
She pushed it open. “You ready?”
“So ready.” I grabbed her hand, and we made our escape, dashing down the hall then out a side door into freedom. The tropical air was sweet and warm, and I pulled Mona to me. In her heels, she was almost my exact height, which was exceedingly good for kissing. She tasted like light and joy.
“Feeling better?” she asked, laughing.
I nodded and pulled her down a shaded path to the beach. I could hear the surf. “Let’s go sit on the beach and watch the sea.”
“Jack! Look at me. You don’t know but this dress is worth . . .” she leaned in close and whispered, “thousands of dollars.”
“It was well worth it.”
She raised her hem to show me her shoes. “And these are stilettos and almost as expensive. I can’t walk on sand in them.”
“Take them off. I have it on good authority that the man who paid for them thinks they are not as valuable as time spent with you.”
She blinked and I thought for a moment she would cry, but she laughed instead and bent down, one hand on my arm to steady her to take off her shoes, one at a time. Then, dangling them from her fingers, she ran down the path, her dress rippling behind her, leaving me to catch up to her. I caught her when we came out onto the open beach, and we laughed, leaning into each other as we strolled down to a more remote area.
“I was so wrong about you, Jack. I thought you were somebody else entirely.”
“I know what you thought. And you were right. I was that jackass. I thought that was who I was supposed to be.”
“Like your father.”
I sighed. It still hurt when I thought of how disappointing my father turned out to be. “Like my father. But I did a lot of soul searching after Marissa died. You know she committed suicide?” She nodded. “It was my fault.”