Page 49 of Side Piece

Tess and I have disappeared from each other’s daily lives while I work. I both like it and hate it. She’s let me go a bit. I revel that I get to work, and there are no demands on me, but I worry about whether she’ll still want to be with me. The only other really significant relationship I’ve ever had was the opposite of this.

I compromised within an inch of my being to be with Charlotte. It took the last shred of self-worth and my family to pull me out of that three-year situation. Tess feels different. Nine fucking days of missed communication and moments bother me.

Mikey’s doing the first segment today, and Jeff handling the sponsors’ spots before I jump in the studio. I’ve been totally focused on the docuseries. I want HBO to drool, but I’ll take Netflix if they’ve got more cash. The pilot’s being cut right now. Then we’re all back in DC for the live election results tomorrow. I can’t believe tomorrow is here.

ALEX: Night, beautiful.

It’s late. She’ll see it in the morning. Then I’ll leave her hanging because I’ll be sleeping. My pull to her is undeniable, but maybe what we’re doing is it. We don’t get to have normal, just a series of hookups when convenient. I long to hold her. I’ll hold hope for a little longer.

ALEX: Someday.

35

Tess

I’m curled up on my favorite corner of my couch, fidgeting with the pillows. It’s like I’m rearranging my couch to get rid of my nervous energy for him. He’s going live tonight. And then it’s the 9th. I’ll head to DC in the morning, and we’ll fly out from there. It’s the first time we’ve made time for each other. Set aside calendar days and pushed off responsibilities. What if the chemistry’s gone? The pull I feel towards him simmers underneath, but I’ve been more nervous than excited to see him the last couple of days.

There have been lots of late nights lately to work ahead of the vacation. I’m collagen masking the fatigue away. I filled all the moments without him. I wrote blurbs for up-and-coming writers. I played so much freaking tennis. I learned to make coq au vin and played with Carlos twice. He’s really fucking good, and he doesn’t take it easy on me.

Since the sleepover, Mikey and I have kind of become besties, which Alex finds annoying, but cute. He has more on his plate than Mikey right now. I’m often asleep when Alex texts. We work opposite hours. The results broadcast starts in four hours.

This is the longest we’ve been out of contact. I’m seriously in my head about it all. What if we have nothing to say to each other for longer than a day or two? I stand up and run in place for thirty seconds to shake it off.

I pile my hair on top of my head in a messy bun and whip off my bra. I’m snuggled under my favorite gold cashmere throw with a bottle of Double Zero. It’s only 4ish p.m. I don’t care. I can be a total slob right now. I’m sifting through cover options for the new book, and I hate everything. Ever since he came into my life, I’m kind of cranky when I’m not getting laid. My phone zings to life. It can’t be him, but the possibility has me bolting off the couch.

“Hi!” I say way too enthusiastically.

“Hi, beautiful. I’ve three words to say to you. You can’t deny them.” And now I’m sitting up and listening. It can’t be those three words. It’s not like I haven’t thought about them, but what the hell? My blood is racing.

“Come to me.”

That’s not what I thought he’d say. “What are you talking about?”

“You owe me.” Oh. The bet.

“To DC? Now? You’re busy.”

“I am, but be here for the moment I’m done. I can’t stand another night without you.” His voice wavers. “We haven’t done anything like this before, and it could all blow up in our faces, but I’d like you to be here. Come to me. Jump in a car. Come now. Oh shit. I have to go.” And he abruptly hangs up. His entire paragraph was one breath.

ALEX: We’re supposed to be in prep. I promised I wouldn’t call. Come to me. Send me a picture of you right now.

I take a leap of faith and push send.

ALEX: Gorgeous. Come just like that. Maybe wipe the goop off your face. Come here, please.

TESS: On my way.

ALEX: Contact Jerrod. Back to blackout. Can’t wait to lick every inch of you.

TESS: That’s the price of me putting my bra back on.

I’m not driving out of Philly or into DC at 5 p.m. The traffic’s insane.

* * *

I leap on the train and find a spot to settle into my laptop. Sitting a few rows ahead is a remarkably familiar CBS special correspondent. That’s why Jerrod easily agreed to pick me up at Union Station. He was already going to be there.

“Is this seat taken?” I smile at this otherworldly attractive person.