"It does bring up some bad memories," I admitted to Trisha. "But I have to remind myself that it was a long time ago. I'm a different person now. I'm not as naive as I once used to be."
"You weren't naive," Trisha said, shaking her head. "You were in love. It's not your fault Jackson cheated on you and abandoned you."
"Technically, he didn't abandon me. I abandoned him."
"Don't defend him," Trisha replied vehemently. "You may have broken up with him, but you were doing it for his own good. It only took you a week to realize your mistake, but lover boy was already shacking up with the whore that he had cheated on you with."
Trisha had been there for me during my darkest days. She heard the details of everything that had transpired between Jackson and me as I poured out my heart to her. To say that she had an unfavorable impression of Jackson was an understatement. It infuriated her even more that he had become rich and famous. She proclaimed that she would never watch a movie with that "sonofabitch" in it.
"I'm not defending him. And I'm certainly not excusing his cheating. But I know what role I played in the demise of our relationship. I thank my lucky stars that I did break up with him though. Otherwise, I may have never found out about him and Claire."
Our conversation was interrupted by the waiter bringing over our food.
"Let's not waste anymore time talking about Jackson. This is a weekend for us to have fun. I only have you for two days and I don't want to spend it moping about the past."
Trisha agreed on dropping the subject of Jackson and we spent the rest of lunch planning our weekend. Trisha was leaving Sunday morning so we only had the rest of today and all of Saturday to cram in as many activities as we could.
After lunch, we went shopping. Trisha was intent on spending as much money as possible before she left. I trailed behind her as we went into store after store, waiting patiently as she tried on a million pairs of shoes.
"What do you think?" she asked, modeling a pair of snakeskin five-inch heels.
"I think you're going to kill yourself trying to walk in those," I replied, plopping into a chair. I had a feeling we would be here for a while.
"Yeah, but what a way to go."
Trisha flagged down the harried salesman, asking for another pair of shoes to try on. A couple of women sat next to me, engrossed in their conversation as they slipped on pairs of shoes. I couldn't help but overhear them.
"He's in town for the premiere of his new movie. I say we find out what hotel he's staying at and camp out."
The woman's companion frowned as she stood up and admired the shoes she had slipped on in the mirror. "I think we're a little old to be stalking celebrities."
"Yeah, but it's Jackson Reynard! He's so hot, I wouldn't mind making a fool out of myself over him."
"I heard he's dating Candace Stile. No offense, but I don't think a mere mortal is going to be able to steal him from her. Besides, I read that they've been dating for a while but have kept it secret. Apparently, they're in love."
"It's not like I think I actually have a chance," the woman said with a scowl. "But what's wrong with dreaming a little?"
The two women moved to another section of the store, not knowing that they had shocked me into stillness. The last thing I expected was for Jackson to be in town. I figured that he spent most of his time in L.A., not taking into consideration that he would be in New York to promote his new movie. I couldn't help but see commercials for it since they were constantly running. I was sure it was destined to be another blockbuster, but it was another one of his films I would never see.
"What about these?" Trisha asked, now wearing red knee-high boots.
"Why are you trying on boots in the middle of summer?" I asked, pushing the thoughts of Jackson from my mind. I had gotten plenty of practice these past five years of not thinking about him, although I had to admit I wasn't always successful.
"Because these are on clearance! I can save them until winter."
I studied the heels of her boots with a skeptical look. "I don't think those boots are made for trudging in the snow."
Trisha shook her head sadly, obviously letting me know that I was missing the point. She ended up buying the boots, as well as two other pairs of shoes.
"Why don't we go back to the apartment?" I suggested. "I feel like a pack mule with all your packages. We can drop off your bags and rest up until dinner."
We were treating ourselves to a nice dinner at Eleven Madison Park but I needed to rest beforehand. Otherwise, I would be falling asleep on my plate.
I ripped the plastic off my furniture when we got back to my place and tried to arrange it in some sort of semblance of order. I opened a bottle of wine and Trisha and I relaxed on the couch, idly talking about nothing in general.
"Are you excited to start your new job?" Trisha asked, twirling her wine glass.
"I'm excited but I'm nervous too. This is a big step for me." I was starting as an account director at Forrester, a large ad agency with offices around the country. I would be handling accounts worth tens of millions of dollars and although I felt qualified for the job, I couldn't help feeling like a fish out of water. The agency I had left in D.C. had been considerably smaller.
"I have no doubt that you're going to be amazing," Trisha said with confidence. "I'll just have to make frequent trips up here to boost your ego."
"I'd welcome that," I replied with a laugh. "Although I don't know how happy Sean would be about that."
Trisha waved her hand airily. "He has plenty of things to occupy himself with, namely remodeling the bathroom."
Trisha and Sean had recently bought a "fixer-upper" and were determined to do as much work themselves as possible, although Trisha tended to take on a supervisory role instead of getting her hands dirty. As flippant as she was about leaving Sean to his own devices, I knew that in reality, she didn't like spending too much time apart. They were one of those sickening sweet couples that were joined at the hip. I was surprised that she had even suggested coming along to New York, but I knew the real reason was because she was worried about the memories my return would trigger. I was grateful to have her as a friend.
Trisha checked her watch and then jumped up, finishing the last of her wine with a gulp. "I need to start getting ready if we're going to make our eight o'clock reservation."
"Trisha, it's six o'clock. You have plenty of time."
"It takes a lot of time to make this beautiful," she said with a sweep with her hand over her body. I shook my head in exasperation. Trisha had been a little overweight during high school but she had shed the extra weight during college. However, her insecurity hadn't left her, no matter how many times she was told that she was beautiful. With her blonde hair in a pixie haircut and startling blue eyes, she was the consummate girl-next-door.