Sarah pushed aside the magazines that Leslie had showed her and opened her journal. She paged through the last three months. This book was almost full. She would need to replace it in a few days. She paused on an entry from three weeks ago, written in red pen. The bright color screamed from the pages. She didn’t usually use red, but it reflected her mood the day she wrote it—the day after she and Jon had met up with Mia Thompson at a charity event for a battered women’s foundation. She knew Mia would be at the event, but she didn’t realize how Jon’s ex would enrage her.
Mia kept joking that Sarah must be pregnant. But it was more of a jab than a lighthearted ribbing, and Sarah felt that she was implying that the only reason Jon would marry her was if he had knocked her up. It irritated Sarah to her core, but that wasn’t the worst part. Mia acted like Sarah was invisible, never acknowledging her existence, only talking to Jon, and then, when Jon got hung up in a conversation with some big producer, Mia swung around to attack Sarah, with full knowledge that he wouldn’t hear her.
“Jon and I have a connection, a bond, that can’t be broken. We’ve known each other a long time, and I understand him in ways you never will. Hollywood seeps into all aspects of our lives, and if you are not part of it, you will never understand Jon. Just keep that in mind when you plan your future with him. He will never be yours completely.”
“Really? Because I’m the one he’s marrying.” Sarah tried to keep her voice calm and emotionless. This woman was impossible. Mia and Jon’s relationship ended two years ago and yet she felt entitled to him?
“Oh, I doubt that you will last long enough to make that happen.”
Sarah gasped. She couldn’t believe that she was having this conversation with this woman and Jon was oblivious to it. She smiled, waving her left hand in front of Mia’s face as she glared at her. Sarah wasn’t going to listen to her. She already had enough insecurities about Hollywood. Sarah quickly maneuvered herself back to Jonathan’s side and stuck there like glue the rest of the evening, not even acknowledging Mia again. She felt bad that she had stooped to that level. It wasn’t her. She tried to live in a better world. Sarah wasn’t usually affected by what other’s said, but Mia burrowed under her skin like no other person she had ever met.
Sarah hadn’t told Jon about it that day. She didn’t want him to say something to his ex and give her the satisfaction of knowing how much she was irritating her. But the next day when she was writing about it in her journal, Jonathan sat down next to her. She was tense from the memory of the previous day, and when he gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, she exhaled loudly. She didn’t realize she was holding her breath. He gazed at her with curious eyes as she closed her journal. She definitely didn’t want him to read her entry.
“So…” he said with a questioning expression.
“Are you going to tell me what happened between you and Mia yesterday?”
Sarah’s head dropped against the back of her chair in exasperation. She couldn’t believe that woman complained about her to Jon. “What did she say?”
A smile grew on his face. She knew her tone had given away exactly what she was trying to hide.
“Sarah, I haven’t talked to Mia, but if you want me to, I will.” He chuckled, and she scowled. That was the last thing she wanted.
“Why do you think something happened then?”
He turned on his iPad and set it on top of her journal. “The tabloids seem to think that you two were catfighting yesterday. There are about thirty articles that go into great detail about a big blowout you and Mia had. Did I miss something?” Sarah looked down at the tablet on the table in front of her, and of course, the picture was of her waving her ring hand in front of Mia’s face—Sarah’s hand positioned to be practically giving her the finger, with Mia mid-eye roll.
“Sorry.” Sarah didn’t want to look like the crazy girlfriend.
“Don’t be. This kind of press can’t hurt. Remi sent me the link. She wants me to get you and Mia out together more often.”
“Remi is a sadist. How could she wish that woman on anyone?”
Jon laughed. “She’s not that bad.”
“Your publicist’s not, but Mia, she’s horrible.”
He leaned in closer and wove his fingers through Sarah’s hair. He nudged her head to the side to open up access to the tender skin of her neck as he whispered, “I chose you. You’re the one I love.” Then he placed featherlight kisses down her neck. Copyright 2015 Susan Schussler