CHAPTERFIVE
Faye
I return to the apartment at 7:00 P.M., my legs sore from walking all over the city. It’s been three days since the dinner with Felix.
I know Lola has seen him, visiting his apartment, but he hasn’t reached out to me about the job.
As I climb up the steps, my remaining resumés in my hand, I tell myself this is a good thing.
So what if I got my hopes up a little, dreaming of working with Felix Fallon?
The truth is it could easily mean the end of my friendship with Lola. I might slip up, let him see how badly I want him, let him glimpse the burning crush that feels like it’s holding me prisoner.
I’ve been able to hide my crush because I rarely see Felix, but working side by side with him…I try to tell myself it’s a good thing. But I can’t stop thinking about why.
He said he was going to give me a chance, and I made it clear I didn’t want any special favors. Maybe he hasn’t started work on this project yet.
I check my phone again. I’m not sure how many times that is today, but I’d guess somewhere between fifty and five freaking hundred.
Lola’s sitting on the couch, her laptop on her knees and her big chunky over-ear headphones on. I can hear orchestral music playing loudly, her fingers zipping across the keyboard.
We share a brief smile, and then I sit on the other chair, leaning back and letting out a yawn as I wait for her to finish.
Sleep has been difficult ever since the meal.
Whenever I close my eyes, I see him, which is fine.
Normal. I’m used to it.
But I feel him too. I remember how it felt when I gave him my phone, and our hands brushed. In the deepest parts of the night, the shivering sensation threatens to overwhelm me. It travels to other parts of me.
Last night, I was tossing and turning for hours, thoughts of Felix impossible to dislodge.
And then, if I did manage to settle down, I missed him…missed obsessing, remembering, wanting.
It’s like this gap opened inside of me, a Felix-shaped hole that makes me feel empty.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Lola says, taking off her headphones and gesturing to my resumés on the coffee table.
“I’m not living here for free,” I tell her.
“I know you don’t want that,” she replies. “But you’ve got a job with Dad.”
I smile tightly, hoping she can’t see past my exterior to the hungry-as-heck-for-Felix interior. “No offense, but I can’t wait around for him forever.”
Lola sighs. “I know you hate doing nothing. But Dad’s…I don’t know. He’s sort of flighty sometimes, I guess. He’s probably dreamed up some new project, and he’s busy obsessing about that. I bet he’ll contact you soon.”
I hope so.
A moment later, another thought hits me.
I really hope he doesn’t.
I picture Lola’s face changing under the weight of all the hatred, her kind eyes becoming grim.
“I’m sure you’re right,” I say, not believing it for a second.
Even if I know it’s for the best if he doesn’t, I have been waiting for him to contact me. Dreaming about it. Wondering what I did to piss him off so much to the point he’s ghosting me.