Thankfully, Laurie changes the subject and starts to tell me more about what she and Brett talked about through the night. She’s full of excitement and happiness, but she hasn’t slept all night, so it’s not long before she’s nodding off.
After Laurie goes off to bed, I prepare for a nap too, wondering what Landon’s reaction was when he woke up in the morning and found that I had left him yet again. When I’d called Tony Gillies to arrange for my return on one of the early flights back to New York, I’d been afraid that he’d try to clear it with his boss, and some hopeful part of me had expected Landon to do something, like try to stop me.
But he hadn’t.
I’d flown back with Aidan, and even though we had a lively conversation on the plane, for some reason, we didn’t talk about Landon. It was almost as if he understood that there was something wrong, and that I would break apart at the mention of his brother’s name. In New York, a Swanson Court International town car had been waiting to drive me home. During the drive to my apartment, I waited for my phone to ring, for Landon to call, to tell me something, anything to make me believe that something good would come out of what I’d told him last night.
But there was nothing.
When I’m under the covers, my arms curled around a pillow, I allow myself to think of the way Landon held me after I told him I loved him, the way his body shook, the tenderness with which he made love to me, and the tears start to fall.
I have to face the fact that we may never end up like Laurie and Brett, because not every love story has a happy ending. Maybe his aversion to commitment will overshadow his feelings for me. Maybe he’ll choose to continue the way he always has, and find someone else who would be willing to accept his terms of a commitment-free relationship, someone who wouldn’t make him face emotions he’d rather not feel.
Maybe he’ll forget about me.
Almost choking on the thought, I swallow my sobs and force myself to think of other happier things. I close my eyes, willing myself to fall asleep, and to believe that no matter what happens, I’ll be able to handle it.
DAYS pass, and my strength starts to falter. I don’t hear from Landon, and the longer his silence lasts, the more an empty numbness spreads inside me. Every day, Rafael picks me up from my apartment for the drive to the Gilt building, and in the evening, he’s there to pick me up again. I don’t ask him about his boss, and he doesn’t volunteer any information.
After a few days, Joe replaces him as my driver, a sure sign that Landon is back in town. The thought that he’s staying away from me even though he’s so close is almost too painful to bear. But I continue to wait, trying to be strong, trying to convince myself that whether he comes to me or not, I can live with it.
He doesn’t come, but from all directions, I’m assailed with news about him. The media is ecstatic about the Gold Dust, and the reviews are beyond marvelous. He even makes the cover of a popular news daily. “Glitz And Glamour as Landon Court Opens New Hotel,” the headline screams, with a heartbreakingly beautiful picture of Landon on the cover.
I can’t resist reading that, as well as the numerous articles on the internet. Many of them dwell on the connection with Ava, whose family originally owned the hotel, and they pair their articles with pictures of Landon with her. Only a few of them mention me as Landon Court’s date. But why should they bother? I’m just one in the long list of ‘dates’ that had come and gone.
I read about Landon’s trip to Europe as the guest of the head of a corporate group with interests in hotels worldwide. There’s a party on a large boat, with lots of models and actresses. In the pictures, I can tell nothing from Landon’s face. As always, he maintains his detachment, his seeming lack of interest in the things going on around him, and looking at his face, I wonder if he’s thinking about me at all.
His successes continue - rumors of the acquisition of a Vegas property, a news publication publishing a retraction and apology about a negative article written about him. Investors courting him…
Five days.
Without a word.
And just like that, the sliver of hope I’d been holding on to, disappears, along with the belief that what he felt for me, the things I’d felt in his arms, would conquer whatever held him back. I have to face the knowledge that when I walked away from his suite in San Francisco, I had finally and irrevocably ended us.
EVERYONE around me is ecstatic about Laurie and Brett. I am too, but in my current state of mind, I’m not strong enough to be constantly cheerful and excited. The effort it takes to hide my pain is draining, but I have to, for Laurie.
“Your auntie Jacie thinks we should go to Barbados for the wedding. I think it’s an excellent idea. A change of scene for all of us. What do you think?”
I’m on the phone with my mother, and we’re having yet another conversation about the wedding. Our parents are over the moon, of course, and my mom and aunt Jacie have made and shelved enough plans in one short week than most wedding planners make in a year.
“I would love to go to Barbados,” I tell her. If anybody needs a change of scene, it’s probably me. Laurie’s grandmother, Auntie Jacie’s mom, lives in Bridgetown, and over the years, we’ve spent a few holidays in the Barbadian city. Having the wedding over there meant that Nana wouldn’t have to travel, and Laurie could have her wedding in one of the most beautiful beaches in the world.
“It would be lovely wouldn’t it? Taylor and Jacie will iron it all out with Brett’s parents, and we’ll make a holiday out of it.”
“Is that what Laurie wants?” I ask, knowing that my mom and Aunt Jacie could very well make a plan and run halfway with it before checking with Laurie. It was just their nature.
“Yeah…” she says slowly. “I believe Jacie’s talked about it with her.”
I chuckle. “If Laurie’s okay with it, I don’t see why not.”
“Exactly!” I can tell my mom is excited at the thought. She starts to go on about plans, color schemes, flowers and so on while I do my best to pay attention.
“Laurie told me that you and Landon have run into another hiccup,” she says finally, when she’s out of other things to say.
A hiccup? I sigh. Talk about making a molehill out of a mountain. “I don’t really want to talk about it mom.”
“Okay,” she says quickly. “But if or when you do, I’m here, all right?”