Duke glowers. “Damn journalists. They’ve been calling and hanging up all day.”
“Hey, at least you’re getting a good write-up.” Jackson kicks back, looking amused with one arm slung around Tessa’s shoulders. “Some photographer got pics of me carrying groceries, and I guess the perspective was all weird, because they launched a whole thing about the size of my hands, and if it meant I also had big?—”
“Feet,” Tessa interrupts, giving a glance at her grandfather.
Jackson chuckles. “Yeah, my feet. So, count yourself lucky, man.”
Duke just spears another burger onto his plate. “This kind of luck, I can do without.”
“There must be some upside,” Tessa urges, looking concerned. “I bet it’ll be great for business. Come Monday morning, your phone will be ringing off the hook.”
“I’m already booked solid,” Duke replies. “I don’t need any cheap publicity stunts to keep my skills in demand.”
He shoots me an arrogant smirk, but I just smile right back at him. If he thinks he’s going to get a rise out of me…
A bread roll hits Duke in the forehead– and I’m not the one who threw it. Suze laughs at him. “Thought you needed help, mopping up all that ego,” she grins, and tosses another– which Duke catches this time. “Ignore him,” Suze tells me. “Clearly, the historical society folks have been blowing smoke up his ass for too long.”
“Some people know the value of good craftsmanship,” Duke shoots back, but he’s got an amused look on his face.
In fact, that handsome face of his is looking way too self-satisfied.
“Oh, don’t worry. I’m used to big egos in Hollywood,” I say breezily, taking a sip of my drink. “In my experience, they’re usually just trying to compensate for their other… shortcomings.”
Quinn hoots with laughter. “Amen to that,” she says, raising her glass.
Duke glowers some more.
“It’ll all blow over soon though,” Jackson reassures him. “I’ve been through it, too. Remember all that drama last summer, when Tessa and I got together? It’ll be forgotten soon enough.”
Maybe for him.
I bite my lip, and don’t say anything. I know male actors have pressure too, but it’s always been different for guys. They don’t have headlines running about how they’re past their sell-by-date: childless and alone. They don’t get TikTok videos of plastic surgeons talking about all the work they’d do to “fix” their face, or have to sit through meetings with bigwig producers musing over what costumes will make them fuckable enough.
And trust me, nobody’s out there judging Duke for our supposed-hookup. Hell, they’ll be congratulating him. Throwing a damn parade. Way to go, man. Banging the movie star.
I’m the only one getting called a desperate, fame-hungry whore.
I suddenly realize there are tears suddenly stinging the back of my throat.
Dammit.
“I think we’re out of ice,” I declare brightly, bouncing to my feet. “Anyone need anything from the kitchen? No? Be right back!”
I head inside, to where it’s quiet and cool – and I can pull myself the hell together. I run the cold faucet, and stick my wrists under the icy water: a little behind-the-scenes trick I learned to calm down fast.
Outside the window, I can see Jackson and Tessa snuggled together, enjoying the sunshine and the lazy afternoon.
I feel a lonely pang echo, deep in my chest.
It really is different for him.
When Jackson had that gossip explode last summer, he had a whole team in his corner: agents, publicists, close family and friends. And, oh yeah, the love of his life right there at his side. They all helped steer the story, protect Tessa, and keep his career on-track. Everyone was invested in his bright, A-list future.
But me? I’m out here on my own. My agent, Max, was already ducking my calls, and the whole reason I’ve been avoiding my messages is that I’m afraid he’s going to cut me loose completely.
“How are you holding up?”
I turn. Quinn’s followed me in, making a beeline for the makeshift bar area with bottles of seltzer and iced tea. “Oh, I’m fine,” I tell her immediately, pasting on another big smile. “Like Jackson said, it’ll all blow over soon!”