Page 98 of In Love with Lewis Prescott
I stop chewing once I catch what she means.Lewis.
I swallow. “Um, no. I’m okay with it.”
It’s true...mostly. It’s been almost two months since Lewis ended things, and just over a month since he called me to apologize for walking out on me. There’s a tug in my chest when I think about how that’s the last time that I’ll ever hear his voice.
I pause to clear my throat and silently tell myself what I’ve been reminding myself for weeks: there’s no way we can work. Even though I realized after speaking to him that I could forgive him for walking out on me, I couldn’t deny the fact that we’re from two completely different worlds—and we always will be.
It might work for a bit with us traveling to see each other, but long-term there’s no way. I wouldn’t leave San Francisco and Half Moon Bay; I know he wouldn’t be able to maintain the career he wants living anywhere but LA.
End of story. Even if it was the best love story I’ve ever had in my life.
My appetite stalls, and I push the plate away. I reach for the glass of wine and down it.
A sad smile tugs at Mom’s lips. She rests her hand on my arm. “Are you sure you’re okay, honey? It’s all right if you’re still hurting. It takes time to get over someone you’re in love with.”
I grab her hand in mine. “I’ll be fine, Mom.”
Judging by the pinch of her eyebrows and the purse of her lips, she doesn’t believe me. “I know you’re a strong and capable adult, but I’ll always see you as my baby.” Her blue eyes turn glassy. “And I can’t help but check on my baby when she’s hurting.”
“Mom. I promise, I’m okay. I’ve been busy volunteering at Glad You’re Here. And I’ve set things up to start consulting at the beginning of next year and already have a list of firms I’m in contact with. That’ll be a good boost in my finances so that I can help pay for things for Uncle Pedro and...”
Mom rests her hand on my arm. “Sweetie. Just stop for a sec, okay? I appreciate all the help you’ve always offered our family, but you don’t have to do that. Uncle Pedro isn’t your responsibility. He’s staying with your dad and me, and we love looking after him. You’ve spent enough time taking care of everyone else around you. I don’t want you to take a job you don’t actually want just because you feel obligated to be a safety net for your family. That’s no way to live.”
It’s been a while since Mom’s taken such a pointed and serious tone with me. I’m thrown off for a second, but once the shock wears off, I admit to myself that she’s right. I don’t really want that consulting job.
“What’s your dream job, honey? The thing you want to do most in the world that would make you happy?”
Her question flashes me back to months ago when Lewis and I were working on the hardwood flooring together and he asked me that same question. I still don’t have an answer.
“I... I guess I’m not really sure,” I say. “I mean, the thing I like doing most is volunteering at Glad You’re Here, but that’s not a paid position.”
“Maybe it could be. Have you even looked into working for them? I bet Diana would be thrilled to know you’re interested in joining her charity.”
I sigh and admit that I haven’t.
“Don’t write things off before you give them a chance, honey.”
I still as a wave of emotion washes over me. Wise words that could apply to things between Lewis and me. That ship has sailed, though.
I shake off the pang of sadness that hits and pull her into a hug. The sound of someone gasping pulls our attention to the living room.
“Hey,anak, isn’t that the young man you brought over for dinner?” Uncle Pedro asks.
I spin around, and my eyes go wide when I see Lewis on TV. He’s sitting across from an interviewer I recognize as one of the correspondents from a major entertainment news show. I can barely breathe. He looks so, so good. And not just devastatingly handsome with that freshly shaved golden stubble and his blond waves trimmed close to his scalp. But happy. Invigorated. It’s even evident in his posture, how he’s sitting tall, alert, yet with a relaxed expression. I don’t remember seeing him like this in any interview before.
It’s then that I notice the entire house has gone quiet. Maren glances up from her conversation with Naomi and Simon, a look of absolute horror on her face. Simon winces, and Naomi’s eyes bulge while her gaze darts between the TV screen and me.
She quickly walks over to me. “He was interviewed for this morning’s news show, and I think they’re replaying it.”
She starts to tell my dad to change the channel, but I stop her. As nice as it is that my family and friends care about me, I don’t need to be coddled like this. It makes me feel like everyone’s treating me like a fussy baby.
I start to say that I’m fine, but something the interviewer says catches my attention.
“So tell me about this movie you’re filming in the Bay Area.”
“I’m here in San Francisco for a project that I’m thrilled to be the executive producer of.”
“And one of the stars.”
