Reese
We're currently on our way to a restaurant and my face hurts. The effort it takes to fake laugh, and fake smile, and fake like I'm having the best time ever is literally causing me physical pain.

And my head hurts, too.

I'm usually a terrible liar. I mean, like, I'm really, really bad at it. It's not even that I feel guilty about it; I just instantly am afraid of getting caught. I never lied to my mom growing up because I had a pathological fear that she'd know immediately and never trust me again. I was a pretty typical teenager in a lot of ways, but I never went through a phase of sneaking out or trying to hide things.

When I was seventeen and she confronted me after finding condoms in my bathroom, I told her the truth; I hadn't had sex yet, but my then-boyfriend and I were planning on it and I wanted to be prepared. Even my friends know never to tell me anything if it means keeping an important secret from someone; I just can't handle the pressure.

So with having this whole history of being almost incapable of lying, it's boggling my mind that aside from the tension headache, I'm maintaining what I think is a pretty chill attitude around both JC and Tia. Well at least I was. 'Til she brought up lunch.

She snuck it in so casually, too. When she asked if I had another appointment to rush off to, I just assumed it had something to do with her wanting to know more about some different properties or something. So I told her that I had a few hours to kill before my next appointment.

I'm an idiot.

Then she insisted--and I mean that in the truest sense of the word--that she and JC treat me to lunch and I almost choked.

I told her I wasn't hungry, which was a lie because caffeine and Tylenol does not a suitable breakfast make, but that's no one's business but mine. I even offered to drop them off wherever they wanted to eat. I felt a little guilty at suggesting they take an Uber back to their hotel from there because it wasn’t quite professional, but all I could think about was how much I could not stomach eating lunch with the two of them.

When I finally looked at her she had her arm linked with JC's. And although that made me want to throw up, I also have to admit that I was semi-appeased to see that he looked slightly panicked.

Again I tried to beg off, hoping I didn't sound as nervous and awkward as I felt. But Tia, with her beautiful, magazine-ready face, just smiled her perfect little dimpled smile and with a complete dismissal of everything I'd said, insisted. And--by the way--since the place she's thinking of is on the way to their hotel, she's just going to call to make sure they have a table available.

She was on the phone, and although she was still standing right in front of me and right next to JC, there was this brief moment where he and I made eye contact and seemed to share the same thought that was something along the lines of 'hell to the nope.'

When she announced that they'd have a table ready and waiting for us, I glanced at him again only to see that the expression he wore was one of pitiable resignation. He raised one shoulder in an almost imperceptible shrug and arranged his lips in such a way that I think he was supposed to be smiling. It looked as authentic as a three dollar bill.

And here we are. In my car on our way to eat lunch like we're all friends and everything is copacetic.

I keep thinking about how, under other less complicated circumstances, I really think I might like Tia. Well, actually, going back to when she walked into my office yesterday, I know I would like her. I mean, I do like her. And I feel extra shitty about that.

You'd think she'd be a miserable person to be around, what with her picture perfect looks and family money. But she's really down to earth. And she's surprisingly easy to talk to.

It's so bizarre though. I mean, it isn't just the whole bringing JC home thing, and then him showing up in my office the next day. That's huge enough considering the size of this city and the number of realtors here. But on top of that, now Tia and I are chatting it up like new besties.

Turns out her cousin graduated from Northwestern the same year I did. I can't place him by name, but later she's going to show me a Facebook picture so I can see if I can remember him. Judging by some of what she's told me, it sounds like we may have some friends in common.

My high school and her high school were rivals. She graduated a couple of years ahead of me, but still it's a weird coincidence. And since she says she came back on occasion to see games and stuff, it's even weirder to think that there’s a pretty high likelihood that on more than one occasion we were sitting in the same gym or field, on opposite sides of the bleachers.

I know people say that the world is small, but I'm having a hard time wrapping my mind around it all. It's all just too coincidental for my liking and I feel off-kilter and just...weird.

JC's still not saying much of anything. And I still find my eyes going to him when I glance in the rearview mirror. And yeah, that part feels wrong because every time I look at him I feel this indescribable tightening in the pit of my stomach. And I'm not sure if it's because I'm attracted to him--which I am, and I hate it--or if it's because I think he's awful--which I do, and he is.

But today has also been weird because he's being so different than he was the other night. He's really quiet, reserved. And it's not just that he's not being talkative; he's almost aloof. He has this complete detachment and I can't tell if Tia doesn't notice, or if she notices and doesn't care.

I'lll admit it; I've spent some time today trying to figure out what the dynamic of their relationship is and so far I've got nothing. She's been asking him questions about the places we've viewed, but it's in a perfunctory--albeit cheerful--sort of way. His responses have been so non-committal that they're practically non-existent. And it's like she hasn't once registered his complete lack of enthusiasm. She just moves on to the next thing. I find myself wondering if things with them are like this all the time, and I feel guilty for even thinking it.

But still the thoughts creep in there. When we were in the club sitting with his friends, he was kind of quiet but he was still obviously engaged and tuned in to the conversation. Today he's been so clearly tuned out. And I would think it has something to do with my presence here, but since Tia doesn't seem concerned in the slightest it makes me wonder if this is pretty normal for him. And of course I'm comparing the way he's been today with the way he was with me the other night. And that's a rabbit hole I want to avoid falling down at all costs.

I'm still trying to come up with any viable reason to not go inside the restaurant. I suppose I could fake a call from another client, but like I said, I generally don't do the lying thing well and pretending that yesterday was the first time I laid eyes on JC is taking all of whatever available resources for dishonesty I have.

Tia takes a call and I choose this exact moment to look back at JC through my mirror. And of course at this exact moment he has his sunglasses off and he's very obviously looking back at me.

There's something about his expression that unnerves me. I don't know if it's because I can't figure out what he's thinking, or maybe because I'm all too aware. Because it's so much of what I'm thinking.

Tia's talking to someone named Helen about a meeting she has tomorrow. JC and I are staring at each other through the mirror, and suddenly the weight of this entire situation is crashing on top of me and I almost can't breathe.

Maybe I'm making this whole thing out to be a bigger deal than it is, but it's not OK. I'm not OK. I just want to get as far away from these two, and this ridiculous fucking situation, as soon as humanly possible.

I look away from JC, back to the road in front of me, and I grip the steering wheel with both hands to hide the fact that they're shaking. How the hell am I supposed to sit across from them and be normal? Nothing about this is normal.

This feels like punishment and it's not fair. I didn't mean to have sex with her boyfriend. I didn't mean to have sex with anyone's boyfriend. And if I had known there was an unsuspecting girlfriend involved I certainly wouldn't have done it. Cheating is not, and never has been, my thing. But now that I've done it--albeit completely unknowingly--the universe is obviously conspiring against me and I'm going to pay for it.

I pull up to the valet and there's nothing I can do but smile and get through this lunch as quickly as possible. I just have to keep reminding myself of the commission check.

I've never worked so hard for one before. And right now I'm not sure that it's worth the effort.


JC
The ride over here was unbearable. At one point I fantasized about jumping out of the vehicle while it was still moving.

This feels like torture.

I know Reese feels the same way because right as Tia made the call for lunch, we shared a look. The complete and utter panic on her face was a mirror image of everything I'm feeling.

Tia talked nonstop on the way here, asking Reese questions that ordinarily I'd want to hear the answers to. But in this context, I don't want to listen to it.

They're getting along so well, and I hate that too. Tia's making a real effort at getting to know Reese and it bothers me because I'd like to know her too and now I'll never have the chance.

Tia is likable, and Reese is likable, and it makes sense that these two really likable, intelligent, successful women would, well, like each other. But the more Reese likes Tia, the more she's going to hate me. And I hate that. It would be so much easier if my girlfriend were just a bitch.

But she's not. And the only one who looks bad here is me.

I felt like meeting Reese was kismet. The way that things played out that night seemed meant to be. And in a perverse and twisted and deeply wrong way, I still believe that. I mean, here I am, right? And even though the circumstances suck, it all has to mean something, right?

We exit the car and Reese gives her keys to the valet. Within seconds of Tia giving her name, a hostess leads us to the back of the restaurant and seats us in one of those semi-circular booths. I'm on one side, Reese is almost directly opposite me on the other, and Tia's in between us but a little farther away from me. Almost as soon as we're seated her phone rings and she's making apologies and promising to be back in a moment before scampering away. And then I'm left sitting with Reese in almost total seclusion. And since my sunglasses are obviously off, and I can't stare at her slyly, we're looking at each other and the tension is so thick you could slice it.

We had a moment in the car; she looked back at me and I was already looking at her. It was, for lack of a better word, heavy.

I was thinking of the other night, and how easy it was with her. And how it was the sex, but it wasn't only the sex. How, instead of it being a pleasant memory for both of us, it's this thing she's definitely going to want to forget about. I was thinking about how she smiled at me when I left, and how I could tell she didn't want me to go. I was thinking about how that's all over now.

I'm about to say something and then Reese is digging through her purse and pulling out her phone. I get the feeling she'd do anything right now to avoid talking to me.

I've been trying not to stare at her, but it's hard. Her hair's out the same way it was that first night. Curly and big, and I can't help but remember what it felt like in my fingers. That's probably not a train of thought I need to follow right now though, because everything else about that night comes back to me and I'm feeling it right in my dick--which is mildly uncomfortable in the jeans I'm wearing.

She's typing furiously, head down. Completely ignoring me.

Several minutes pass. Maybe ten, maybe more. I don't know for sure but our server comes back to take our orders and I ask him to give us a few more minutes to wait for Tia.

And then I clear my throat. "Reese." I know I've said her name loud enough for her to hear, but she makes no indication that she has. Right now though, I'm feeling determined. "Reese," I repeat.

She stops typing for a split second and scowls.

"Come on. Please talk to me. Or at least listen to me." 

"I'd rather not," she says quietly but firmly.

I clear my throat again. "I'm trying to apologize to you."

She sets her phone down on the tabletop and after five or so seconds she rolls her eyes up to mine as if it's the most challenging thing she's ever had to do. All I see when she looks at me is annoyance and something else I'm pretty sure is adjacent to revulsion.

"You already said you were sorry. In my office, remember? And I said I didn't care." She reaches for her phone again. "Still don't." 

I talk quickly, hoping if I talk fast enough she'll listen. "I know you probably hate me, and think I'm an asshole. And there's probably nothing I can say to change your mind, but I need you to know that…" I pause and take a deep breath. "What happened the other night...I don't...I don't do stuff like that normally, OK? I just...want you to know that."

For whatever reason, it's vitally important to me that she knows that cheating and lying aren't things I do habitually. And although it won't change the fact that I did, this time, with her, the idea of her thinking that I just run my way through women is anathema to me.

I want to tell her that everything that happened the other night was all about her, about the connection and spark I felt with her. It was about the fact that I haven't felt that way, about anyone, in so long I barely remembered what it was like. But I know it'll sound like so much bullshit and she's already rolling her eyes impatiently.

"Oh please, JC. I'm sure it's par for the course for someone like you."

There's something in the way she says that that has me confused. And I know she can see it on my face because she rolls her eyes again and shakes her head.

"Someone like me? What does that mean?"

"I'm sure you're used to women falling all over themselves to fuck you," she says in a harsh whisper.

And the way she's looking at me now is the polar opposite of the way she was looking at me on Saturday night. And I don't just mean for the obvious reasons. There's scorn in her eyes, but there's something else that I can't quite put my finger on. And then it dawns on me.

She knows who I am.

"I don't...I'm not…" I stumble over my words, not sure how to respond. "You know...who I am?" I hate how that sounds with every fiber of my being, but there's really no other way to ask it.

She sits ramrod straight and looks me dead in my eye. "JC Chasez of *NSYNC, right? The super famous boyband of the late nineties and early 2000s. I bet you thought it was pretty amusing that I had no idea."

I feel sick right now. Because it's one thing for her to think I'm a lying bastard--and that's bad enough--but I hate to think that she's associating what I did, my cheating, on what I do for my career. Even when I was famous--and these days I don't really see myself that way--I was never that guy. And right now I don't think there’s anything I can say to convince her.

"Reese, it's not like that. I'm not like that. I just...Saturday was--"

"Listen," she interrupts my rambling. "I already told you I wouldn't tell your girlfriend and I meant it, OK? I'll play nice because, for the record, I think Tia's awesome and it's really shitty that she has you for a boyfriend. But I won't be the one to break that to her."

I want to say something to her but I'm speechless.

She picks up her phone again. "Just sit over there and ignore me, and I'll ignore you, and pretty soon lunch will be over and we'll never have to see each other again."

I can't help but think that most of what I'm seeing and hearing is bravado. I know I sound like a narcissistic bastard, but I was with her. And I know she was into me and it was more than just sex. I can tell because I felt the same way.

Still do.

So of course I try again. "Reese, please just--"

Her eyes narrow and she leans across the table and slightly closer to me. "I don't want to talk to you. Ever again. What happened the other night shouldn't have happened for a whole bunch of reasons so just...let it go. And unless you absolutely have to for Tia's benefit, do not say another word to me."

She looks back down at her phone, and before I can respond Tia rushes back to the table, apologizing and swearing that she's turning off her notifications so we can continue uninterrupted.

Well, this should be fun.