Tweaking Mr. Right

TMR: Chapter 18

Eighteen

Natasha called me that evening, "Cassandra, dear! How are things in the South?"

"Natasha, for the last time, I'm in St. Louis. It's a forty minute plane ride from Chicago. It takes you longer to put on lipstick." My buzz wore off about half an hour ago, and now a pounding headache filled the giddy void. But I had managed to erase Leland from my mind for most of the day. And it felt good to cry, fight, yell, laugh, and smile. The emptiness inside was gone - good riddance - and I could finally focus on something else besides my problem with Leland.

"Beautifully put, Cassandra, dear. I'm calling to check on your progress with Jam's illustrations," Natasha sang through the phone line.

"Of course, Natasha. I'll be finished with them tomorrow, and you should have the scans in your inbox by five." I waved at Cora as she walked out the front door. Her friend, Meg, honked from the front lawn; they were going to a movie, and I was stuck at home for the next few hours. Mat had to work, and let's face it, my list of friends pretty much ended with him. Since moving in with Cora, my spare time consisted of working, girls' nights with Cora, avoiding my father, and working.

Natasha was still singing at me and I scrambled to concentrate on the conversation. "Wonderful, darling, but the scans will not be necessary."

"Oh?"

"Yes, Cassandra. Jam will be in St. Louis tomorrow for a book talk at the university. He is anxious to see your work and wants to arrange a dinner meeting for tomorrow night."

I slumped into a nearby chair. A meeting with Jam Mercea. I've illustrated a lot of books, but none to the level of Jam's success. We met briefly at last year's Chicago Writers' Conference, but mine wasn't the only face in a sea of illustrators trying to get his attention. "That would be fabulous, Natasha," I whispered.

"Great. You have a table reserved at the Eleven Eleven Mississippi restaurant for seven o'clock."

"Thank you, Natasha."

"Not a problem, Cassandra. Oh, and be a dear, and tell Mr. Taylor about the meeting. I can't seem to get a hold of him." Natasha said her good-byes and hung up. My knuckles whitened as I clutched the receiver.

Leland.

Invite Leland to dinner.

How long had it been? Only two days? Three? What was today?

Just when I thought I could get past the vacuum in my heart, he was there, just out of my vision, but always there. I couldn't go on like this. And I didn't even know how long I would have to wait for the pain to end. Angela won. She had her Leland.

The problem was that I had no idea we were fighting over him. I loved him and he claimed to love me. Dinner with him would be torture, but for the good of my career, I'll do it.

My resolved settled, I called Natasha back. "Did you forget something, dear?"

"Actually, Natasha, I did. I'm moving back to Chicago this weekend, and I need a place to stay until I get an apartment. You know some people. Could you hook me up for a few days?" I held my breath. Natasha's silence stretched, but finally she spoke.

"One of my other clients, Mary Beth York, is looking for a roommate. Maybe you can stay with her until you find something else." She gave me Mary Beth's phone number and address. I called her right away, but no one answered, so I left a message, explaining the situation.

Then I called Leland.

*****

Having spent most of the day out of the office, Jonathan now sat staring at his computer screen hours after he should have called it a day. What did he have to go home to? Lately, he had been spending the evenings with Cora. And the idea of walking into his empty apartment did not appeal to him. Barry moved out a week before his wedding. Jonathan had been pleased with the solitude for the days following, happy his brother finally had someone else to take care of him and clean up his dishes and dirty socks.