Page 91 of Fly with Me

“She just wants what she can’t have.” Derek gritted his teeth.

“Probably.” Shrugging, Olive walked over, trying to seem more confident than she felt.

A smirk pulled at the corners of Lindsay’s mouth. She swirled her tiny straw with her tongue, giving it a seductive lick. Real subtle. She wore a low-cut shirt and a fringed miniskirt with tights and high-heeled boots. Olive found herself immune to everything that used to draw her in. The sex with Lindsay had been good, but the dose of self-loathing afterward made it a million kinds of not worth it.

When Olive reached the bar, she tried to keep her expression bored. “Why are you here?”

Lindsay’s voice held rehearsed innocence. “I was invited. It’s a happy hour. You know I like being happy.” She swirled her drink.

Olive was about thirty seconds away from changing her mind and walking away and telling closure it could go fuck itself.

“For what it’s worth, blocking my phone number is immature and petty. Even for you.” Lindsay slid off her stool.

“What do you really want, Lindsay?”

“I told you, since you’re kicking me out of your life forever in favor of some woman who is trying to latch herself on to your fifteen minutes of fame… Sorry, I know you must be so busy with all the interview requests.” Lindsay’s right eyebrow arched up into a spike, her tone full of derision. “So super cool to be so famous now, but yeah, so, when can I come by to get my shit from your apartment?”

“If I find any of your stuff in my apartment, I’ll mail it to you. Like this is really about some mason jars and a blender bottle.”

Lindsay leveled an appraising look at Olive. “I can tell that you aren’t thinking critically about this situation.” Lindsay sighed. “Is this Stella ridiculousness about the last time we broke up? Are you trying to make me jealous with her?”

Olive stiffened. This was what Lindsay did—stir up drama. When they first met, it seemed like Lindsay genuinely cared about everyone. Olive had thought that was why she was in other people’s business. But her “concern” had always been mostly schadenfreude, and when Lindsay had a vendetta, all hell broke loose.

Lindsay settled a hand on Olive’s forearm, her fingers cold and damp from holding the drink. “Olive, I really am worried about you.”

Olive laughed bitterly, shuffling backward a few inches. “Oh, that would be new. Wouldn’t it?”

Lindsay snorted. “The fact that you won’t have an honest conversation about this is revealing enough.” Lindsay’s eyes narrowed, something almost like concern showing on her face. “You actually really like this woman. Wow. It’s not just about the interviews, is it? There’s something not right here with this thing between you two.”

Olive mustered enough self-control to feign skeptical pity. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“She made it pretty clear at Disney what she thought of the idea of being with you. And when I texted you later you called her a friend. That’s not what you said on TV. It’s all lies. And more than that…” It was Lindsay’s turn for pity. “She’s out of your league, babe. Like I said, I’m legit worried about you. I really can’t believe that you’re prioritizing some woman you barely know over attending your only nephew’s birthday party.”

Olive narrowed her eyes. “How—”

“For some reason I still have permissions to your Google calendar.” She smiled. “Sort of seems like if you were actually in a relationship with someone else you would have removed my permissions to that, but I’m not judging… I get keeping options open…”

“That’s not what’s happening.”

“What I am judging is that with everything going on in your life right now, I can’t believe that woman is making you prioritize her over your family.”

Did that particular dig feel like a tablespoon of salt poured in the gaping wound from not even being invited to her nephew’s party? Yes. Also, what the actual fuck? “Why were you even—”

“I was just checking my own calendar tonight, and your stuff was still there, and I saw all of the events you’re doing for this woman. Yikes.”

Olive tried to seem cavalier. “Jealous isn’t a good look, Lindsay. Just because I’m spending time with someone else…”

“Babe.” Lindsay’s bottom lip pouted. “I know this year’s been really hard for you.” Now she sounded patronizing. “And being carted around to some of this woman’s corporate events is hardly ‘spending time’ with her.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Are you even fucking her or is that not included in whatever messed-up ‘arrangement’”—Lindsay’s fingers curved into accusatory air quotes—“you have with her?”

“Fuck you, Lindsay. That’s not—”

Lindsay’s face went feline. “Hit a nerve? Hmm.”

Olive scowled.

“Out of curiosity, did she ask you out right before bringing up these events? Because seems a little sus to me. That interview, which everyone is saying was so adorable… something was off. I mean, it’s clear you have a crush but—”

“Just stop. This is pathetic.”

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