Page 85 of The Infiniteness of Yesterday
I look around the lobby of the inn. It’s out of my budget, but Jameson insisted this was his idea and he was paying. He’d given me a look that dared me to contradict him. I’d contemplated it for a moment, but only because I was hoping he might throw me over his shoulder and punish me for it.
Moving to the windows, I look across the street at the beach. Even though Santa Monica is less than two hours from Santa Barbara I don’t come here often. This weekend will be a nice little getaway.
Jameson’s warm hand presses against the center of my back. “We can leave our bags here, but they need more time for the room to be ready. Do you want to grab lunch?”
I nod without hesitation, and my stomach decides to give an answering growl.
He chuckles and takes my hand. “There’s a place on the wharf I want to try if that’s good with you.”
“Of course.” I smile up at him.
We walk down the street and then across to the wharf. The salty ocean air soothes my chaotic thoughts. This weekend is meant to be about us. I’m not supposed to be thinking about Monroe—though, I think as a mother it’s nearly impossible not to think about your kids—or Spencer. My ex shouldn’t be on my mind when I’m on a romantic weekend getaway with my boyfriend. But I can’t get it out of my head—the look on his face last night when I mentioned the trip while he was picking up Roe. The utter pain and heartbreak.
“Hey.” Jae squeezes my hand. “Are you okay? You seem a little out of it.”
“I’m fine,” I say, perhaps too quickly based on the way he cocks his head. “I’ll perk up, I promise. I’m just a little tired.”
It’s not a lie. The past few nights I’ve been up later than I’d like working on assignments.
He pulls me closer and plants a kiss on the top of my head. “I’m sorry, baby. Hopefully you can relax. Do you want me to book you a massage?”
“Oh, no. Please, don’t. Getting away for the weekend is more than enough, I promise.” I pull my sunglasses from my hair and put them on, so I don’t have to keep squinting from the sun.
“All right,” he says in a way that has me worried he might not listen to my request.
Reaching the seafood restaurant, he holds the door open for me to go in first. It’s a bit of a hole in the wall, but the best places are.
We’re seated at the outdoor portion with a walkup bar. TVs play above and I startle when I recognize a familiar face. The interviewer holds the microphone in front of Spencer’s face ata red-carpet event—it’s a replay from a few weeks ago. I know because he’s gotten his hair trimmed since then.
“Is there a special woman in your life?” the beautiful interviewer asks him.
He laughs and says, “Absolutely. My daughter. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“But are you dating anyone? Words abuzz that you’ve been spotted out with Lux.” Lux is one of the biggest popstars of current times.
“She’s a good friend,” he answers with a smile and laugh. God, he’s good at it—the acting thing. It’s only because I know him so well that I can see the tiny glimmer of annoyance in his eyes.
“Another question?—”
The interviewer can’t get out another word before a publicist is pushing Spencer along and away from her. The TV cuts to an in-studio segment of a gossip channel which begins speculating on whether there’s something going on with him and Lux or Margo Getty—a nepo-baby turned model—or even Loren Violet, one of his co-stars.
“That must be exhausting. Constantly having people speculate about your personal life. I don’t know how Spencer stands it.”
I turn to face Jameson, not having realized he was watching the clip too. “Yeah, I can’t imagine.”
It was part of the reason I left him. The thought of constantly having to listen to speculation on if he’s hooking up with a co-star or someone else—even if the media knew he was with me. The media is always going to love to spin tales that suit them and rising star Spencer Shaw being with the girl he got pregnant when she was seventeen doesn’t fit the kind of narrative they like.
“Do you want to get a bottle of wine to split?” he asks, picking up the menu. His glasses slip down and without thought he quickly rights them. His hair is beginning to get just a little unruly, but I love his waves.
“That would be great.”
Maybe some wine will loosen me up a bit. I’m tense when I have no reason to be.
Get with the program, I silently scold myself.
A waiter comes and I let Jameson order the wine and lemon waters for us. When the guy has gone, Jameson arches a brow. “You haven’t looked at the menu yet.”
“Oh.” I startle. “Right. I…”
