This One’s For You Read online

  I’d sent my final footage over to Axial Tilt’s manager at one thirty a.m. last night and he must have liked it because he released it only twenty minutes later. I’d taken a risk by setting up three cameras with two at extreme, unusual overhead angles, but I’d liked the way it turned out. It all had a sort of Hitchcock vibe, which I tried to play up even more with tight close-ups of the faces of the band members as well as those of the people in the audience. It gave the whole thing an intimate, emotional feeling that worked well with the idea of it being a secret show. As I was lying in bed and wondering if Ian really liked me or if he was just opportunistic, my video was going viral. And now, I was at the center of a social media firestorm.

  The chatter in my feeds was ecstatic.

  Is Axial Tilt getting back together?

  Will you be shooting their music video? I love your style!

  I never knew I liked Axial Tilt until I saw this video!

  The new music is amazing, when’s your next video going to be posted?

  Will there be a tour? Are you going with them?

  The closeups you took of the crowds made me feel like I was there. Please do more videos!

  The questions, comments, and praise went on and on and on. There was no way I could even begin to respond. Even if I wanted to, I didn’t know how to respond to most of the questions. But there were offers of work coming in, too.

  Are you still doing freelance work? My wedding is six months from now. Can I book you now?

  I’m looking for someone to shoot a video for my band, are you available three weeks from now? I’ll pay your expenses to New York in addition to your fees.

  A lot of the requests were from random people wanting extremely random things filmed, but some looked legitimate. Some even looked prestigious. My Upwork account had received so many messages that it couldn’t accept any more. I was going to need to increase my fees. And maybe get a real website.

  My head was spinning like I’d been riding on a Tilt-a-Whirl. This was not at all how I thought this morning would go. I hadn’t known what to expect when I filmed the Axial Tilt show last night, but it definitely wasn’t this. I was considering whether or not I was just experiencing an extremely vivid, bizarre dream when I saw that Ian had texted me. All other concerns paled in comparison. My phone shook in my hands like I was fourteen again.

  Ian Conroe [10:00 a.m.]: Hi Vanessa. Congratulations! I really liked your video. Sorry Don didn’t give you a heads up that he was posting it. It’s a hit.

  Vanessa Evans [10:10 a.m.]: Of course it’s a hit. Its Axial Tilt’s first show in years. I’m kind of overwhelmed by the response I’m getting though. I got fired from my job this morning.

  Ian Conroe [10:15 a.m.]: What? Why?

  Vanessa Evans [10:16 a.m.]: Apparently going viral has consequences. Plus, I was supposed to be shooting b-roll last night.

  Ian Conroe [10:17 a.m.]: Shit. I’m sorry.

  Vanessa Evans [10:18 a.m.]: Don’t worry. Not all the consequences are negative. I actually think it’s going to be okay. I’ve got a lot of offers for new freelance work to choose from.

  Ian Conroe [10:20 a.m.]: So, you’re okay?

  Vanessa Evans [10:22 a.m.]: Yeah, I’m okay. A bit overwhelmed by all the attention I’m getting, but okay.

  Ian Conroe [10:25 a.m.]: Good. I’m glad you’re okay.

  Vanessa Evans [10:26 a.m.]: It’s nice of you to check on me. I appreciate it.

  This was the part of the conversation when Ian was supposed to say something professional and then stop responding forever. But he didn’t. Instead, his next message popped up and I nearly fainted.

  Ian Conroe [10:20 a.m.]: Do you want to meet for coffee sometime soon?

  I stared at the phone, feeling my heart working overtime to supply my brain with enough blood to think clearly. It was barely working. This morning had already cycled me through more emotions than I knew how to deal with in short order.

  The last couple of years had been hard on me. Brutally hard. I’d lost my health, my fiancé, and my job in a horrible accident that occurred while I was on duty as an EMT. I’d recently lost my best friend and roommate when she decided to move to freaking Africa. My dad had also lost his job and plunged our family into financial trouble. There were layers to my issues, and I couldn’t see the bottom. I’d just started a new career and had just begun to establish a new life for myself and now… I wasn’t sure I was ready for whatever was currently happening. But at the same time, I couldn’t seem to resist leaning into it.

  Vanessa Evans [10:22 a.m.]: Are you asking me out on a date?

  Ian Conroe [10:25 a.m.]: Yes... Are you accepting?

  My fingers hesitated over my phone. Al had told me to reach for the opportunities that were coming my way. I didn’t think this was what he had in mind, but I’d always been a bit impulsive anyway. I decided to take his advice.

  Vanessa Evans [10:25 a.m.]: Yes. I am.

  5

  Ian

  “Bedtime is at seven-thirty,” Wendy told me, pointing at the crib in the corner of the room. She was wearing an expression that did not indicate confidence. “You’ll need to rock him for a while first in the glider, but usually he goes down in about twenty minutes after his bath.”

  I nodded, scribbling down notes on a little scrap of paper with the purple crayon I’d found in the living room. I was almost out of space. “Okay. What else?”

  We’d already been through feeding, changing, bathing, and play time. I’d been trained on identifying signs of allergic reactions, since Lachlan had inherited some of his mom’s contact allergies. I’d even learned how to perform the baby version of the Heimlich maneuver, although I hoped to God I wouldn’t have to use it. Jason and Wendy were only going to be gone for five hours, but I felt like I was now prepared to take care of Lachlan for the next week.

  Still, Wendy didn’t look entirely convinced that I was up to the task. She eyed me carefully.

  “Um, let me think…” she said, pulling Lachlan’s hands out of her carefully arranged, blond up-do and staring around the little nursery. She handed Lachlan to Jason and the baby immediately went for his bowtie. Jason then handed him to me.

  “We’re going to be late if we don’t go soon,” Jason said for the third time, touching his wife’s shoulder. “They’ll be fine. Ian will figure it out.”

  Wendy bit her lip and nodded. “Okay. You’re right. I’m going to go grab my purse.”

  When she left the room, I smirked at him. “Do you really mean that, or do you just want a night off?”

  He shrugged. “I mean it. Babies are way more durable than they seem. I’ve dropped Lachlan like twenty times and he’s still totally normal. Usually he just laughs. I promise you’ll be okay.”

  I beamed. Although my first impromptu attempt at babysitting Lachlan had resulted in me losing him, I was going to redeem myself tonight. Jason and Wendy’s nanny had come down with the stomach flu, and I’d volunteered to watch him while they went to a wedding across town.

  “I’m going to be the best babysitter ever,” I promised Lachlan. “We’re gonna’ have a great time together.” The baby drooled at me in response and I must have made a face because Jason laughed.

  He reached out to wipe his son’s face with a piece of fabric that he then handed to me. “That drooling means he’s really excited to hang out with you.”

  “Just like a puppy,” I joked.

  Jason nodded sagely. “Don’t tell Wendy, but pretty much exactly like a puppy. If you can handle a puppy, you can handle Lachlan.” The two pit bulls that Jason and Wendy owned must have heard us talking dogs, because they both stuck their heads over the baby gate to stare at us. They gazed adoringly up at Jason and wagged their entire rear-ends.

  “I’m ready, honey!” Wendy called from the other room. “The car is waiting for us downstairs.”

  “You’ve really got it all,” I told Jason before I could think better of it. He paused from where he was straightening his bowtie. He blinked
and then grinned at me.

  “Yeah, I guess I do.” He sounded a bit surprised, but in a pleased sort of way. “Are you jealous?”

  I didn’t know how to answer that, so I just shrugged and let the moment pass. Jason and Wendy took off on their date and I was left alone with Lachlan who promptly threw up on himself. I considered letting the dogs lick it off but thought better of it. I set about cleaning him up while I thought about Jason’s question.

  Was I jealous of Jason? I’d never envisioned having children or a wife or a stable, normal life. I’d never seriously envisioned surviving past age thirty, because I was so screwed up that I had few, if any, long-term thoughts at all. So much of my adult life was spent making consciously bad choices to avoid feeling anything that I’d hardly had the opportunity to reflect on something so serious.

  Maybe I did envy Jason and Wendy a little bit. They had built something for themselves that clearly provided them both with a lot of joy, in addition to a lot of vomit and poop. Lachlan babbled at me in baby talk and I set him in a playpen to amuse himself for a while. He seemed totally content to repeatedly bash two plastic cars together and I found myself looking at my phone and texting Vanessa.

  Ian Conroe [5:30 p.m.]: How was your day?

  Vanessa Evans [5:35 p.m.]: Insane. But a good sort of insane. The video is getting a lot of views. I’ve gotten so many emails and texts and phone calls that I feel like I need a publicist.

  Ian Conroe [5:38 p.m.]: I know a few if you want some recommendations. My brother could help too. He’s on the business side of the industry.

  Vanessa Evans [5:40 p.m.]: No, no I was just kidding. I forgot who I was talking to for a second. I’m just not used to this much attention. How was your day?

  Ian Conroe [5:45 p.m.]: Pretty normal. I’m babysitting for Wendy and Jason tonight. Do you like kids?

  It took a while for Vanessa to reply. It didn’t occur to me until ten minutes had passed that I’d asked a loaded question. Then, once it did occur to me, I found myself inordinately interested to know the answer. And whether or not she would answer. Eventually, she did.

  Vanessa Evans [6:10 p.m.]: What, in general? Sure.

  Ian Conroe [6:15 p.m.]: I’m babysitting Lachlan again tonight. Can you believe it?

  Vanessa Evans [6:20 p.m.]: Don’t lose him this time.

  Ian Conroe [6:25 p.m.]: That’s what his mom said.

  Vanessa Evans [6:30 p.m.]: Do you like kids?

  Ian Conroe [6:35 p.m.]: I like this one.

  Vanessa Evans [6:38 p.m.]: And in general?

  Ian Conroe [6:39 p.m.]: The jury’s still out. I haven’t had a lot of exposure to them since I was one.

  Vanessa Evans [6:40 p.m.]: Is that why you’re babysitting? To figure out if you want kids?

  Ian Conroe [6:45 p.m.]: Liking kids and wanting kids are two very different things.

  Vanessa Evans [6:50 p.m.]: I guess that’s true.

  Ian Conroe [6:55 p.m.]: Mostly I’m babysitting to prove that I can.

  Vanessa Evans [7:00 p.m.]: To prove that you can keep the kid alive?

  Ian Conroe [7:01 p.m.]: To prove that I’m not the irresponsible, unstable alcoholic mess that everyone still thinks I am.

  Vanessa Evans [7:05 p.m.]: I don’t think you’re a mess. I doubt Jason and Wendy do either, if they left you with the baby.

  Ian Conroe [7:10 p.m.]: Maybe I’m just proving it to myself.

  Vanessa Evans [7:15 p.m.]: There’s nothing wrong with that.

  Ian Conroe [7:20 p.m.]: Is babysitting usually this boring? I was supposed to put Lachlan down at 7:30 but he fell asleep at 7:15 and I just put him in his crib and now there’s nothing to do.

  Vanessa Evans [7:30 p.m.]: It’s been a while since I’ve babysat, but I usually filled my time with teenage mischief.

  Ian Conroe [7:35 p.m.]: Mischief? Like what?

  Vanessa Evans [7:36 p.m.]: I’d go through drawers, look for change in the couch, find the parents’ porn collection, play with stuff I shouldn’t touch…. that sort of thing. When I was babysitting as an older teenager, I’d invite boys over after the kids fell asleep. That kept it pretty interesting.

  Was she flirting? It seemed like she was flirting. I hoped so.

  I glanced over at Lachlan, sleeping soundly in his crib. It was still going to be hours before Wendy and Jason got home. I found myself thinking about Vanessa’s beautiful legs and huge, green-blue eyes. Was she wearing those tight jeans of hers again today? The ones that hugged her ass like they were painted on? I knew I shouldn’t even consider it, but I was starting to get a very bad idea. My fingers got out ahead of my brain.

  Ian Conroe [7:40 p.m.]: Want to come over and keep me company?

  Vanessa Evans [7:49 p.m.]: I thought you wanted to be a good babysitter.

  Ian Conroe [7:50 p.m.]: I don’t know what you’re implying.

  Vanessa Evans [7:55 p.m.]: I see. You’re just looking for help babysitting?

  Ian Conroe [7:59 p.m.]: Of course.

  Vanessa Evans [8:00 p.m.]: Because you aren’t up to the task?

  Ian Conroe [8:05 p.m.]: Because I’m lonely.

  Vanessa Evans [8:07 p.m.]: I really shouldn’t.

  Ian Conroe [8:10 p.m.]: That’s not a no.

  She didn’t respond and I started to panic. There was only one thing left to do. One move left to make. It was a pathetic, desperate attempt.

  Ian Conroe [8:15 p.m.] Do you like Scrabble? They have Scrabble.

  6

  Vanessa

  Even though our coffee date wasn’t until tomorrow, I found myself driving to meet him. To play Scrabble, or something. Emphasis on the something.

  Texting with Ian made me feel giddy, lightheaded, and eager. I wanted to go meet him, but part of me worried that if I did, we’d end up sleeping together and then he’d be done with me just like that. That’s what famous, hot guys like Ian did, right? They played the field. And when the field was full of adoring young female fans, I imagined that it wasn’t a very difficult game.

  I mean, there I was answering a booty call at nine o’clock on a school night. As a general rule, I’m not a booty call kind of girl, especially lately. But all he had to do was ask and I was schlepping myself across town, having done my makeup and put on a cute outfit that I fully intended to end up strewn across a floor in short order. I was basically helpless to resist him.

  What terrified me a bit was that I didn’t even want to. It had been a long time since I’d been on a date (although calling this a date was a bit of a stretch). Since my accident, I hadn’t tried to date very much. I basically avoided men entirely. Not only was there no way I was ready for a relationship what with my raging PTSD, unresolved emotional issues, and very present physical ones, but I had virtually no desire. It felt like all the desires that made me human had been drained away. Any time I tried to see someone, it inevitably just felt hollow and irritating. Like I was forcing something to happen that I just wasn’t ready for. Like I was going through the motions.

  But it wasn’t like that with Ian. For the first time in a long time, I wanted a man. It was like I’d suddenly woken up from a long sleep and rediscovered hunger. I knew that my attraction to him could only ever be temporary. A girl doesn’t look to a guy like Ian for a real relationship. And honestly? That was fine. I wasn’t ready for that anyway. But, apparently, I was ready for something, and it had me driving downtown before I could second guess myself.

  This is me recovering, I told myself. This is me moving on. I deserved a good fling.

  I refused to think about my dead fiancé Sam or the accident that had nearly killed me and made me wish I were dead for months and months. I needed this for me. I needed to feel alive again. Since he wasn’t alive, I knew he wouldn’t hold it against me.

  Jason Kane, the lead singer of Axial Tilt and possibly the most famous resident of our city, lived in a penthouse in the fanciest condo building in town. The ride up on the elevator felt like it took long enough to take me into space. The view when I stumbled
out onto the forty-ninth floor seemed pretty consistent with that assessment. The view stretched on and on, and if it had been daytime, I could probably see all the way to San Antonio.

  I fought against a wave of vertigo. I’d never had a fear of heights before, but after my accident all sorts of new phobias had come out of the woodwork. My therapist said it was my brain trying to protect me, but it was damn inconvenient. After a few moments of taking deep breaths like I’d been trained, the dizziness subsided.

  Because I knew that the baby was sleeping inside, I texted Ian that I was at the door. After a short wait, he opened it carefully and poked just his head out into the hallway.

  “I should have asked first, but you’re okay with dogs, right?” he asked me.

  I nodded, still shocked to see Ian. Every time I saw him, my heart did a little flutter thing in my chest. He was so damn symmetrical, and did he wear makeup or were his eyelashes just that gorgeous? I suspected the latter. “Sure, I love dogs,” I stuttered out.

  He looked relieved. His smile made me smile, too. “Okay, good, come on in.”

  If I thought the lobby of this building looked fancy, it was only because I hadn’t seen the penthouse yet. I stared around myself in wonder. Huge, floor-to-ceiling windows faced out on downtown Austin. Because we were at the very top of the very tallest building, I suspected that privacy wasn’t really an issue. The city lights filled the room with a soft, multicolored light. The penthouse itself was furnished with the sort of industrial-meets-shabby-chic aesthetic that I associated with Anthropologie stores and clubs with fifteen-dollar drinks. It was tastefully done, and clearly by a feminine eye. Suddenly my shoebox of a studio apartment felt even more inadequate. I was only a few years younger than Jason and his wife. And what had I accomplished? Nothing.