|
He would openly admit that he was not watching the fireworks.
Rather,
he was watching the stunning brunette sitting on the teak chaise lounge next to some guy with impeccably kept hair. They were
talking about something and she smiled as she watched the fireworks; she never took her eyes away from the sky.
He
thought hard about where he knew this woman from; she looked so familiar to him and he couldn’t place her.
Usually
his July Fourths were spent at a family barbecue, eating something covered in barbecue sauce and doing illlegal fireworks
in the driveway or the street in front of his mom’s house in Memphis. But not this one; no, this time he opted to spend
his holiday weekend at Emma van de Camp’s Bridgehampton estate for a weekend of partying for a celebration of independence.
Yeah, right.
The fireworks ended with a finale of bright white, red and blue lights in the clear
black sky, the people on the patio cheering and screaming and toasting to each other. It was like New Years Eve and a wedding
reception combined, except this was on July Fourth.
He noticed the guy with the impeccable hair
get up. She was alone. He grabbed two glasses of champagne and made a bold move towards her.
He
held out the glass for her, “Hi.”
She smiled and accepted it, “Hi.”
“Happy
Fourth of July.”
She took a sip, “Same to you.”
He
slipped one hand in his pocket while his other held his champagne glass. “Have we met somewhere before?”
She
smiled, perplexed, “I know I know you from somewhere, but I can't remember for the life of me where.”
“Exactly.”
“Wait…John
Costello’s, two weeks ago?”
“No, I was in Memphis.” He said, trying his
hardest to remember, “I remember now. Anna Kett’s exhibition, like, three months ago.”
“Yes.”
She smiled, “I remember you. You’re the artist’s boyfriend.”
“Ex
boyfriend.” He clarified, “Ex boyfriend…very ex.”
“Would you like
to sit?”
He nodded and sat down next to her, “Pretty good fireworks.”
She
nodded, “I thought so. Do you know Emma?”
“Yeah. Very well, actually.”
He replied, “We met in LA a few months ago, and we’ve just kinda stuck since then.”
“Oh.
Are you two together?” She asked.
“No.” He laughed, “We’re friends.”
“Oh.”
She said, sounding relieved, “Emma is something else.”
He laughed warmly, “You
said it, not me.”
“Are you staying here this weekend?”
“Yeah…gonna
try and drag myself back to the city on Tuesday.” He sighed, “When I come out here, I never want to go back.”
“Oh,
I’m the complete opposite of that.” She replied passionately. To him, she sounded passionate about everything.
“When I come out here, and I do very often, but I stay for a weekend or something…I can't wait to return to the
city. I like it out here, but Manhattan just feels so much more like home to me.”
“Do
you have a house here?”
“My family does.” She said, “And I can pretty much
say that I’ve been out here for every Fourth of July since I was one or two years old.”
He
smiled, “Not me. I would have to say that this would only be my third or fourth time in the Hamptons.”
“Not
much of a partier?”
“No, I am.” He replied, “Something about watching the
rich and famous play…I don't know. It’s weird to me.”
“Hey, now.”
She smiled, “We do more than just party out here.”
“Okay. What else do you do?”
“We
go shopping; there are lovely little boutiques in town. And we eat. In Manhattan, I mean, we eat, but in Bridgehampton we
really eat. We lay out on the beach sometimes or we go sailing. My father is a huge sailor; he’s tried to teach me ever
since the beginning of time, but I think I prefer to be a passenger instead.”
He laughed,
“I know how to sail.”
“You do?”
He nodded, “Decently,
actually. I had a friend who sailed religiously and he taught me.”
“The relaxation
part of sailing is okay for me, however I’m not very keen on the work part of it.”
He
laughed, “Nobody is, but I like it okay.”
“So, do you live in Manhattan?”
“Yeah.”
He said, “I go between New York and LA but lately I’ve just been…almost confined to New York. I just got
back from Phuket.”
“Oh, Phuket? I heard it’s really nice down there. How was
it?”
“It was great; I surfed every single day and got a great tan. It’s amazing
down there.”
“Oh, you surf, too?” He nodded and she smiled, “Is there anything
you don't do? You sail, you surf…you successfully avoid the Hamptons party circuit…”
He
laughed warmly, “Let’s see, anything I don’t do…I’m pretty much your run of the mill renaissance
man…the 2005 version, though.”
She laughed, “I see.”
“And
what about you?”
“What about me?”
He smiled charmingly,
“What do you do?”
“What do I do?” She repeated, “Well. Not much.”
“Ahh…I
see.”
She smiled, “What do you see?”
“I bet
you have a trust fund?”
“Maybe.”
“So I’m
guessing you don't have an actual j-o-b.”
She laughed, “Perhaps I don’t.”
“So
then what do you with your life?”
“I travel a lot, and I’m the head chair of
the Metropolitan Museum of Art Costume Institute, among other things.” She said, sounding accomplished.
“Are
you the girl behind the gala?” He asked with a smile.
“As a matter of fact, yes I am.”
She smiled, “Did you go this year?”
“I didn’t. I was in Memphis.”
“You
missed a very good party, if I do say so myself.” She smiled.
“There’s always
next year.”
“So you and this Anna Kett artist…what happened?”
“That,
stranger, is a very, very long and ridiculously awful story.”
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
He sighed, “Yes, it is.”
“I feel so rude; I didn’t get your name.”
He
said, extending a hand, “Justin Timberlake.”
She smiled, “I knew I knew your
face from somewhere other than that gallery opening.”
“Star Magazine?” He laughed
warmly, “or was it People?”
She laughed, “Maybe US Weekly; I'm not sure.”
“Don't
believe anything you read.”
“I never do.” She replied simply, “I find it
so strange that we haven't met until now. You said you’re good friends with Emma?”
He
nodded, “Yeah.”
“Now that I think about it, she did always talk about you.”
“What
did she say?” He laughed, “Do I want to know?”
“I would say she is quite
smitten with you.”
“She is, and trust me, we have more than been down that road. It
isn't going to happen.” He smiled assuringly, “It just isn’t.”
“No
chemistry?”
“No, there is. But…sometimes what you want isn’t at all what
you need.”
She cocked her head to the side and dwelled on his words, “Pardon me, I
haven't introduced myself. Aubrey Roehm.”
He shook her hand delicately, “It’s
a pleasure to meet you, Aubrey.”
“Likewise.”
“So,
are you going back to the city on Tuesday along with the rest of the dregs?”
She laughed
cutely, “Most likely.”
“Back to the hot city.” He sighed, sipping his champagne.
“Yes;
back to hundred degree weather and extreme humidity. At least out here we have a breeze from the ocean; back in the city we
have pollution and more humidity off of the Hudson.”
He nodded in agreement, “I know.”
“So
what do you do?” She asked curiously.
“As in a j-o-b?” She nodded, “Well…nothing.”
She
raised an eyebrow, “Slightly hypocritical, are we?”
He laughed, “Just a little.
Normally I am doing something productive…but lately I don't have the stamina, energy or motivation to actually pen something
down and record it. I honestly just don't feel like it.”
“Wait, you're a musician,
aren't you?”
He nodded, “I was in a little band called NSYNC.”
She
smiled, “Haven't ever heard of them.”
“Yeah, a lot of people haven't. We’re
very underground pop.”
She giggled, “I would love to sit here and talk with you all
night—“
“So sit and talk.”
She smiled brightly,
standing up, “I would if I could. It was truly lovely talking to you.”
He laughed;
she was so proper. It was cute, “Same here. I hope to see you again.”
“Maybe.”
She smiled, turning on her heels to walk inside.
She spotted Emma talking to her sister and grabbed
her hand, yanking her away.
“Hey, you!” Emma smiled, kissing her on the cheek, “Looking
fabulous as usual. Are you having a good time?”
“I’m having a great time,”
Aubrey said, “So I have a question for you.”
“Ask away, honey.”
“You're
friend Justin—“
“Did you two finally meet?” Emma asked anxiously; she lived
to matchmake and scheme the way she did.
“Yes, but we had already met three months before
this, at his now ex girlfriend’s gallery opening—“
“And?”
“And
he’s…”
“So amazing?”
“I think that
would be an understatement.” Aubrey smiled, “If I wanted a boyfriend right now, I would have asked for his number.”
“You
won’t need to ask; I have it.” She smiled, “Aubrey, you would be so good for him, and vice versa.”
“I
don't want any one right now, Emma. We’ve been through this a million times.”
“I
know, but…” She sighed, “It’s been three months. Chad has already moved on, and so can you.”
“It
takes a lot longer to get over something that lasted four whole years, Emma.”
“And
I know that, I do.” Emma defended, “But just go and talk to him; dance with him. Don't you just want to throw
your arms around him and give him a big, big hug?”
She laughed, “Emma, you are…”
“Something
else?”
She giggled, “Yes.”
“It would make me
the happiest hostess if I could say that the cutest relationship of the century started at my annual Fourth of July bash,
Aubs!”
She laughed, “Come off it, Ems! I may be single, but I am not ready to mingle.”
“Sure
you aren’t. He’s coming in and heading this way.”
“You love trouble, don't
you?” Aubrey smiled, looking at Emma. Justin walked up to them, holding his glass of champagne.
“Hi
Justin.” Emma swooned, “Aubrey and I were just talking about you.”
He smiled,
“Really?”
Emma nodded, “Are you enjoying yourself?”
“I
am,” He confirmed, sipping the last of his champagne. “What about you?”
“Of
course I am, it’s my party.” Emma laughed.
“I’m having a lovely time.”
He
smiled at Aubrey. Suddenly J’ai Deux Amours by Madeleine Peyroux came over the speakers and Justin’s ears rejoiced
in delight. “Aubrey, would you like to dance?”
“She would love to.” Emma
said, pushing Aubrey towards him.
“Are you a Peyroux fan?” She asked gently in his
ear as they danced closely.
“Yeah,” He said, “And you?”
“I
love her voice; it just feels so classic listening to her.”
He nodded, “I know exactly
what you mean.”
Aubrey smiled and inhaled his scent; he smelt like cologne and champagne
– wonderful. For the duration of the song they barely spoke, rather they moved classically to the sounds of the jazzy
song with French lyrics.
Aubrey was sad when the song ended; she liked dancing with him, but what
she liked more was being so close to him.
“Can I get you a drink?” He asked politely.
“Oh,
no thank you.” She smiled, “I’m done for the night.”
“Yeah,”
He agreed, “I would have to say I am drinked out myself.”
She laughed, “I had
a lovely time dancing with you.”
“As did I.”
They
laughed and he kissed her hand. She blushed as they locked eyes. Such a classic moment, “I think I’m going to
head home.”
“Okay.” He said, enamored by her, “It was so nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.”
She smiled, “I’ll see you around.”
“Okay.” He said hopefully, “Goodnight,
Aubrey.”
She smiled and gracefully kissed his cheek, “Good night.”
|
