Page 41 of When I Had You

I could reply with a snarky comment, but I don’t. Instead, I let her words sink in. She’s right. I’m not where I’m supposed to be—in my career or in life—and it has nothing to do with where I’m currently seated. Glancing at my phone, I think about my earlier call with my agent. “Lauren said I blew the hard work she’d put into Corbin’s team. They were signed on for a reconciliation on the red carpet that would have apparently had the world swooning. Now they’re going in a different direction.”

“What direction is that?” Her high pitch reflects my annoyance as well.

“I have no idea. I have a feeling I’ll be blindsided again.”

She reaches over and covers the top of my hand. “I hate that and Corbin, but listen to me, Marina. I respect Lauren, but she’s not always right. You don’t need to have a red-carpet reunion with a cheating asshole. You need to find your happiness again and live life for you.”

“I could ruin my career if I do that.”

“You could ruin your life if you don’t.” Sitting back, she adds, “You don’t have to live by everyone else’s rules.” She smiles. “Don’t let anyone define you. Only you have that right.”

Poppy’s my best friend for a reason. Through thick and thin, ebbs and flows of life, she’s always been there for me and I for her. I laugh, then roll my eyes. “Fine, you can stay as long as you want.”

She laughs. “That was easy.”

“Seriously, though, it’s good to spend time with you. With you around, I feel more myself again. It’s like my backbone had caved to be a good girl, as I’m called too often by producers and Hollywood types.”

“It’s more fun being a bad girl anyway.”

I sit back again when the card is returned. “Maybe it’s time for an image change.”

“You don’t need to change. You don’t need to lie. You just need to live for yourself. Screw everybody else and their opinions.” She signs the bill and hops off her barstool. “Come on, let’s get out of here. I saw a cute shop down the street. Let’s go shopping.”

The eyes that spied us earlier follow us out the door. Out on the sidewalk, I loop my arm with hers, already feeling better in the sunshine. “I never made a good bad girl.”

“You’ve never tried before.”

“The role was already cast,” I say, eyeing her and then laughing.

“I’m not as bad as I could have been.” She stops and readjusts her bag from her arm to her hand. I slip on a pair of sunglasses when she says, “Maybe it’s time for us to switch parts?”

“That’s not an entirely bad idea. If we can’t beat ’em—”

“Make them regret ever meeting you.”

My jaw drops open. “That escalated quickly. I was going to say make them regret underestimating me.”

Her shoulders jump just as she loops her arm with mine again. “That works, too.”

I’m not arrogant enough to think I’m special. Women are cheated on all the time. I’ve even been cheated on before. But it’s different when it’s played out in front of the world. The thing is, I’m the bad guy in the media right now. So if they’re going to brand me with a scarlet letter, I might as well make it worth it.

While Poppy looks at shoes, which is the last thing I need to be buying when thinking about my collection at the apartment, I pull out my phone and text Cash:

Is Ryatt your real last name?

12

Cash

Who is this?

Staring down at my phone, I send the text with a grin, knowing full well who it is. I finish filling the two glasses with ice, then check for her reply:

Very funny.

My phone rings.

I’m both surprised and impressed by the bold move of her calling me, and answer, “Hello?”

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