10. The Hardest Word to Say
Without pausing for thought, Evie dashed out of the door and headed straight for the lifts. She knew where his room would be, Jacob had a penchant for balconies that looked out high over city night lights, and the hotel was famed for its prestigious south facing suites on floors 78 and upwards. And thankfully, her status of biographer to the stars meant she'd been given the lift code to floors 78 and upwards upon her arrival. Evie had been nonplussed at the time, assuming it was in case there was a star emergency that needed immediate biographing. But she was thankful for it now, tapping it hastily into the lift's illuminated keypad. Her only problem now was to figure out which of the south facing suites would be Jacob Hunter's.
In the event, it was quite easy spotting which room was his. Mainly due to the fact that Tiffany was clinging onto one door handle in particular and arguing furiously with a pissed off looking Reg as he held her gingerly by the elbow and tried to escort her away. Wincing at the starlet's shrill whining, Evie took advantage of the disturbance to sidle from the lift to hide behind the potted palm tree that stood regally in the middle of the plushly carpeted hallway. Peeking through the fronds, she watched as a defeated Tiffany was persuaded to relinquish her grip on the door handle and head off down the corridor.
Standing tall and fluffing her hair, Evie took a brief second to regret leaving her room in her bare feet not to mention the frothily laced slip before she marched up to Jacob's door, knocking authoritatively before she could succumb to another bout of crippling nausea and slink off back to her room.
"Use your key, man" came a distinctly lack lustre drawl. Heart in her mouth, Evie paused a second before knocking again.
"What, you've lost it again? Jeeze …" came the voice again, this time less lack lustre and more pissed off. The door suddenly swung open to reveal the back of a topless Jacob Hunter as he mooched back over to a sofa that had been pulled through the open balcony doors and was littered with fast food wrappers and a couple of guitars.
Not really sure how to proceed, Evie cautiously stepped inside, pulling the door closed after her. Jacob's voice came again, "Dude, check out the beer situation would ya …" Padding softly over to the fridge, Evie grabbed a bottle and, twisting the cap off, walked over to the balcony where Jacob was desultorily strumming at one of the guitars. Holding the beer out, she waited till he reached backwards to grasp it before she took the last couple of steps that would propel her into his line of sight. And waited.
Upon seeing her, Jacob promptly spat out the mouthful of beer he'd just taken. "What the fuck. Reg? REG? I said no way, Reg!"
"Reg isn't here, he doesn't know, I swear" she replied quickly, anxious not to get the security guard into any trouble. "Listen, Jay – Jacob, I just wanted to speak to you, to … to apologise, I won't take up much of your time" she paused, blinking nervously at the quiet rage that was emanating from the still figure in front of her. He couldn't even bring himself to look at her, instead gazing wrathfully at a spot just past her right shoulder. Silence wrapped itself around the balcony, its tendrils squeezing the air from Evie's lungs, making her next words come in a tangled, breathless rush. "Well, here it is then, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I left you to deal with the Sebastian, um, incident on your own. You were a good friend that night, the best actually, and I, I was not. And I'm sorry. For that."
Before she could add anything to the mangled apology she'd just stuttered out (it had sounded better in her head, honest), Jacob was on his feet and in her face, the gold in his hazel eyes glittering coldly.
"Lemme get this straight Evie May (the once affectionate nickname now dripped with derision), you're sorry about the incident? My whole LIFE is one long incident. You think I care about the journos, the stories? No. I care about you. I care about us. I care that you left me …" His voice dropped to a whisper, "Cared. Cared."
Somewhere a door slammed shut as tears welled in Evie's eyes, she drew breath to tell him that she cared about all that too and was it too late to grovel a bit more so they could perhaps start again, but his voice cut her off "I mean, look at you. Whose bed have you just crawled out of? That's a helluva effective way of getting your stories, who's the fool this time? You should leave me their number; we could compare notes on Evie Burton. Biographer to the stars" His face, inches from hers, sneered as his words flew like arrows into her heart.
Then Reg's gruff voice called out, "Jay? Jay mate, leave it now. Leave it" and the security guard came lumbering onto the balcony. His thick arm around Evie's waist, she let him walk her away, walk her back to her floor, her room, all the while with tears flooding down her face. "I didn't … I haven't … I wouldn't" she repeated, to the sound of Reg's soothing "I know, I know".