The Inevitable Fanfiction

Chapter 4- In Honour of What Almost Was

I walk into the office a little after noon. I try not to work too much in the U.S. Lisa is already there in the reception area, typing away at her laptop. She looks up with her glasses-rimmed eyes and smiles.
“Morning, Simon,” She greets. I’m glad she didn’t call me ‘sir’ this time.
“Morning Lisa,” I lean in and kiss her cheek. “How are you?”
“Fine. And you? The last couple of days, you have seemed awfully down,” She is a nice lady but this is a slightly touchy topic; the only topic that I ever seem to think about any more. Plus, she seems like she’s looking for something – a sign. Has she joined everyone else in the world? The ‘Simon is jealous of Jeremy’ club? I hope not but I have my suspicions.
“I’m alright, darling.” I wink. I’m always alright. “Have the arrangements for Jackie been done?”
“Yes, the driver will pick her up and bring her straight to your house,”
“Wonderful. Thanks,”
“Of course… Now there are some wedding planners coming by in half an hour? They said they were sent by a Mr. Hunter. Can I let them in?” Her tone is questioning and curious. I groan inwardly. I would have rather they called me directly.
“Yes, yes. Send the bloody wedding people in,” I mutter.
“Alright…” She smiles to ease the conversation. “Can I get you anything? Some tea, maybe?”
“Darjeeling would be lovely,” I tell her and head into my office.
I get a phone call almost immediately, and I’m surprised to see a number I don’t recognise on my mobile.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Cowell, this is Pamela, Paula’s assistant,” She says, short, sweet and to the point.
“Hi, Pam. Paula’s alright isn’t she?” I ask. Though she is probably calling for the wedding arrangements, I can’t help but be apprehensive.
“Yeah, she’s fine. I just wanted to ask you if you would come to the house on Monday. She will be out at the studio the whole afternoon, and we really need to discuss the Bridal Shower.”
“Bridal shower? Isn’t she a little old for that?”
“Well…” I can tell Pam agrees, being around Paula’s age herself, she would probably not want one should she be getting remarried. “Jeremy wants this to be the ultimate wedding ever, every reception included.”
“You do realise I haven’t the first clue on how to plan a shower don’t you? I don’t even want to handle this stuff!” I protest.
“You won’t be handling it, you will look at all the things we have arranged, and then you can judge. Easy enough, right?”
Grumbling, I say “I suppose since that is my job; why not my hobby too, eh?”
“See you on Monday, Mr. Cowell,” She laughs.
“Right, right.”

***
The tea arrives much too late, and the wedding planners much too early. The two don’t seem like a very good combination but they both sit in front of me, waiting.
“Right, so… I know absolutely nothing of this business. Just ask what you need to ask, and I’ll give you your answers,” I tell the lady, Sonia, politely as I can.
“Of course, Mr. Cowell….” She stutters, nervous as hell. She fiddles with her long blond hair. “Let’s start with the basics; what are Paula’s favourite colours?”
“She likes all girly pastel colours. Her favourite combination is probably lavender and black, though.”
“Okay; pastel colours. Lavender-” She scribbles it down on her notepad. “We can work with that. And what about cuisine? What kind of food does she like?”
“Shouldn’t Jeremy have told you that? Surely he knows that much about her,” I scoff.
“He gave us all the information he had and then said to come to your office and speak with you, sir,” She says quietly.
“Well, fine then. She loves Chinese takeout, but I’m sure that’s not appropriate for any wedding reception,” I chuckle. “She likes pastas – Italian food, really.”
“Okay. Any specific dish she likes?” She asks.
“She likes cheesecake for dessert, but doesn’t often indulge herself in it.”

I remember how many times she would look at the menu, when we went out for dinner – alone or with Randy and Ryan, she would look at the cheesecakes and start to order one, then change her mind quickly, deciding she didn’t need the calories. I usually would order it and then make her share with me anyway.
“Cheesecake. Got it. Her favourite songs? ‘First Time Ever I Saw Your Face’ is one of them, correct?”
“Yes. She loves that song. Also – she likes ‘Unforgettable’ by Sinatra. And Elton John songs.”
“What song do you think suits her best? Mr. Hunter suggested –” I cut her off without even meaning to. The song title slips through my lips, because it is her song.
“Tiny Dancer,” I say. “Without a doubt.”
“Oh- um, that is fitting, yeah. Better than what Mr. Hunter said.” I feel my chest puff out a bit at that comment.
“What about flowers?”
“White roses.” She always touches the petals of roses, and she has told me ‘the white ones represent purity’. I laugh of course, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t love them still.
A few questions later, we were done.
“Thank-you for your time, Mr. Cowell.”
“Not a problem.”
“It’s nice to speak to someone who knows Paula so well. Mr. Hunter wants this to go perfectly for her – he just adores her.”
It seems from the time she entered my office and till the time she is leaving, she has gained a bout of confidence and feels the need to plunge a knife in my heart... Right, that was a bit over dramatic. Paula would say that is my Jewish side arising... I’ll never know what she means.
“Right. Well, see you later,” I say, calmly as possible.
When she leaves, I take some business calls and look through the paperwork that lies in front of me every day, sipping my tea. It is now lukewarm but still, it calms me. Reminds me of home. My phone rings again and I pick it up with absentmindedly, not checking the caller ID.
“Hello?” I greet.
“Hi, Simon,” My breath catches, and I feel my stomach bottom out. I look at the screen to make sure I am not hallucinating, but no, her picture is there, smiling back at me.
“Hi, Paw-la,” I say slowly. I haven’t spoken on the phone with her in a while. A long while. I smile almost sadly. I missed it.
“Not busy are you?” She asks.
“Not particularly, no,” I reply.
“Okay… How are you?”
“I’m very well, lo-” I almost call her ‘love’ but now it rips at a place deep in my heart. Hunter calls her that. “Paula,” I finish. “And you?”
“I’m fine…” We are quiet for a moment. This has to be the most awkward conversation we have ever had. Usually we have a million things to say, and a million and one things to laugh about. “Would you come over today?” She asks, hesitant. I can almost see my own eyes twinkle, getting lost in thought for a moment. It has been a while since I have been over to her house. It seems I took too long because she rushes to elabourate. “It would just be you, me and the babies.” I laugh at how it sounds; the mum, the dad and the babies. But she is talking about her dogs of course.
“That sounds nice… I’ll come round in the evening, alright? I have a meeting in the afternoon.”
“Okay. You want dinner?” She loves cooking for people. I smile. It’s as if everything in the world is right just for this while. It is just me, her, and the babies. I grin wider at the humour in it all.
“Sure, darling. That would be lovely.”
“Alrighty then, I’ll let you get back to your work. Bye-bye.”
“See you later.”
We hang up and I am now beaming like an idiot. A few years ago, I would like being around Paula because it provided comfort. There was something about her presence that always had me coming back, like a moth to a fire, even before we became friends. Now, however, she doesn’t provide the comfort; she is the comfort. The only console.
Even an extended, not to mention horrendous, meeting could only affect me slightly. Despite the fact I am capable of putting aside my personal life in business situations, it was hard to do today, and it took a somewhat conscious effort to pay attention and think like a businessman, instead of – in my childlike bliss - agreeing with just about everything anyone said. Now, even two hours later, as I am driving the familiar route to Paula’s, the smile on my face hasn’t diminished.
Paula had given me a remote control to access her automatic gate- and a copy of her house key- when I gave her a copy of my key. I had done this after Terri moved out, knowing it was safer than giving it to some 20 year old oversized Barbie doll. I suspect that she was more than pleased.
Now, I slide the car into the driveway, away from paparazzi and walk around to the door. It is already open and I let myself in. I smile as I enter the house – every wall, every angled decoration piece and every flower petal screams ‘Paula!’
The smell of pasta sauce is mouth-watering and I follow it to the kitchen where I see Paula dicing mushrooms and then throwing it into the pot on the stove. She looks cute, wearing jean shorts and an off shoulder pink blouse. Casual and yet classy. She is humming to herself and if it weren’t for the dogs barking insanely once they see me, I would have loved to have watched for a few more moments. She turns, smiling and the dogs pounce on me, on their hind legs waiting for attention. I pet them all and bend down so they lather my face the way dogs do.
“Missed Uncle Simon, didn’t you?” I coo, and ruffle Thumbelina’s fur. She and I have always had the most affection for each other – other than their mum of course.
I grin again at the reference but can’t help but feel we’re playing a short game of ‘Happy Family’. I open my arms out to Paula, and she falls into them more than willingly. She is barefoot, as she always is at home, and I have to lean lower than I usually do to kiss the top of her head. When I do, she nuzzles closer into my chest and sighs heavily.
“I’ve missed you as well,” She says finally, pulling away only slightly.
“You saw me two days ago, darling,” I tease her, and I am glad the feeling of unease between us has lessened. She looks up at me, slightly embarrassed.
“You know what I mean.” She shakes her head and goes back to the stove, stirring the sauce in the pan.
I lean against the wall and watch her, amused. She is avoiding my stare, biting the inside of her cheek and looking in any direction but mine. I chuckle and she looks back at me, pink in the face.
“What?” She asks.
“I’m just-” I’m just what? I have no idea. “You’d make a great wife, you know,” The words spill from my lips, rolling off my tongue before I have a chance to process what I’m saying. My eyes widen and this time it’s my turn to colour.
“I- um, thanks, Simon,” She stutters and looks back at the pot. She puts the lid on the pan and switches the flame off. I can’t decide whether to regret my words or not.
Paula pours the sauce into a bowl and carries it wordlessly out of the kitchen. I see a salad which she has made and I pick it up and follow her to the dining room. The dogs trail behind me quietly. The table has already been set and though I hadn’t meant to say anything about her ‘wife’ skills, I can’t deny what is the truth. She sits at the side, leaving me to sit at the head of the table. I sit and take her plate, filling it up before handing it back to her and filling up my own.
“Thanks,” She says.
She opens a bottle of red wine and pours some for me, but regulates to Diet Coke for herself.
The silence is killing me. I hate this. And I know she does too. So I tell her the food is magnificent. This gets a smile out of her.
“I’m glad you like it,” is her response.
She stays quiet for almost the whole meal, somewhat introspective. “Simon?” She says after a long while. I meet her eyes. “Why did you call Jeremy the other night?” She sounds hurt, as if I have been hiding things from her. And I have, which makes it all the worse.
“I had some things to discuss with him,” I say vaguely.
“I heard Pam on the phone with you, as well. She told me it was her brother but I really don’t see the resemblance.” She cracks a small smile.
“Me neither,” I wink, trying to ease the situation.
“I know you’re up to something, Simon. I just have no idea what.”
“Good. Let’s keep it that way.” I hope she’s going to let it go.
“I don’t understand why you’d hide this from me… But, I’m not going to ruin today. It’s been too long since it was just you and me.”
“It has, hasn’t it?”
We clear up the dishes and leave it in the sink. Paula’s housekeeper, Marina will be over tomorrow and she will do it.
“Want to watch a movie?” She asks.
“I love movie nights,” I say.
“I know.”
She takes my hand and then looks like she is contemplating removing it. I squeeze her fingers so that she will ease up a bit.
Paula picks the movie ‘Something New’ and we sit on her sofa. The lights are dim and the pillows are soft against my back. I rest my arm on the back of the seat, behind Paula. When she leans back she tenses as she feels my arm; I probably have a hurt expression on my face because she settles against me.
A little into the movie I see Paula has curled up and there are goose bumps on her arms. I then realise the reason I can feel her is because my fingertips have been absentmindedly making patterns on her skin. She shivers.
“Are you cold?” I ask, rubbing my palm against her, trying to soothe the goose bumps.
“A little,” She replies, watching my hand. I pull her to me, half in my lap, and wrap my arms around her shoulders regardless of how she will protest. Again, she hesitates – something she usually doesn’t do, but then relaxes after a second. Several minutes later she leans her head against my chest and I smile to myself, pressing my cheek to her head in an affectionate gesture.
The movie is rather captivating and we are both quiet as we watch the main characters. The main girl feels the main guy is not at all what she is looking for, but like most movies, she falls slowly in love with him and they live happily ever after. If only real life guaranteed happy endings too.
The credits roll and I check my watch. It’s just after 10pm and I should be getting home.
“Paula?” I call softly. When I do not get a response, I look down to see her face pressed into my chest, fast asleep. I don’t resist the urge to brush my lips against the crown of her head, because it will probably be the only chance I’ll get. She stirs and her eyes open.
“Simon?” She asks, sleepily.
“Hmm?” I watch her cuddle further into my chest, sighing. My arms tighten around her and I tell her, “You fell asleep.”
“Oh… Sorry. I have been really -” I interrupt.
“I know... I know, darling” My tone is so understanding and sweet, it surprises even me. “You don’t need to tell me.” She nods, as if remembering that I know her. As if she forgot it in the first place. It stings, I must admit.
“Where is Jeremy, by the way?” I ask, curiousity getting the better of me.
“Business in Arizona,” She says, her voice soft and tired. She yawns.
“Right. Okay, let’s get you into bed,” I say and begin to pull us both up.
“You don’t have to go. I’ll try not to fall asleep again,” She says and yawns once more. I chuckle.
“As tempting as that sounds, you had better sleep.”
We stand up, and she rests heavily against me. I navigate the two of us to her bedroom, glad that it is right beside the TV room. When she sees her oversized bed, full of pillows of every size, she collapses stomach first, on the right side, the dogs jumping up and burrowing into the covers. I tuck her in properly but she sits up, taking my wrist.
“I’m sorry, Simon. I haven’t been fair to you, lately. It’s just- Things have been different and –” she sighs. I know what she means of course. “Maybe we can redo this day – make it better.” She sounds really rueful.
“Maybe you come over tomorrow, okay? And we’ll have fun,” I suggest, hoping I don’t sound as eager as I feel.
“Okay. What time?”
“Anytime. Spend the day, if you’d like.” I sit at the edge of the bed and pull the bangs out of her face softly. She shies away a little and I hate to think why.
“I’ll come over,” She says, not specifying any time. But it’s good enough.
“Good,” I pause. She is tired. I should let her sleep. “Night, darling.”
This is usually where either or both of us lean in and kiss. I wait and she stares up at me, unsure. Maybe she sees the want for her in my eyes, or maybe it is she who wants it. Maybe both, but what does it matter?
“Kiss?” I whisper, staring at her lips.
“I-” She starts but stops short when my hand brushes her chin delicately. She shivers. Her lips part and her eyes close. We both lean in and like slow motion, as we get closer our eyes gradually shut. I can smell that scent that is solely Paula. I can almost taste her. All I can think of is making love to her lips with mine. It has been so long since the last time I really tasted her and my whole body aches to indulge in the sweet flavour that is Paula once more. My nose brushes her cheek and I can hear her gasp for breath almost inaudibly as if my tender gesture had stolen it from her lungs. She tilts her head slightly making our noses touch.
Her warm breath caresses my lips but just centimeters away, an alarm goes off in my head telling me to pull away. If we give in now, I know it won’t stop at a single kiss. She knows it too, because when she pulls away her eyes look like she had just betrayed someone she loves deeply. And she hadn’t even done so yet.
We stare, breathing heavily as if we had kissed for hours. But in fact, we hadn’t at all. I am in equal parts proud and remorseful. Proud because I know that if we had kissed, it would have turned into more. I would have lost all self-control and made sure of it. I regret for the exact reasons.
“Goodnight.”
I get up and leave her house. I smoke three cigarettes in a row on the ride home and when I am in bed, it is not hard to guess the only thing running through my mind.