Page 58 of Sweatpants & Sweet Tea

Was my response to him respecting my boundaries exhibit A, B, C, and D as to why I should not be in a relationship? Sure.

Was any of that making me miss him less or want to be with him less? Absolutely not. If anything, the time apart had proven that absence had not only made my heart grow fonder; it hadalso made my head grow more delusional, and my hormones grow hornier.

Over the past two weeks, I’d caught myself daydreaming about what it would be like to stay in Firefly Island and marry, yes,marry, Harlan Mitchell. I spent hours every day and night fantasizing about vowing my life to a man I hadn’t even spent a full twenty-four hours with. Besides being a people-pleaser, it turned out I was also a hopeless romantic. That was a very dangerous combination.

I’d had two more dates since our night under the pier. I’d gone horseback riding on the beach, then gone out on a chartered boat for a sunset cruise with Jack Dawson and had a private concert at the Opera House followed by a candlelit dinner on a rooftop with Jerry Clemons.

All four men I’d dated the past few weeks had been attractive, successful, and kind, and two out of the four had even been funny. Jack and Mark were hilarious. If I’d gone out with either one of them in L.A., I would have been interested in a second date. Actually, no. I would have only wanted a second date if I’d gone out with either one of them in L.A. andhadn’talready met Harlan. As it stood now, I felt like I’d been cheating on him, even though that was absolutely not the case.

My phone rang, and I saw that it was Alexandra Facetiming me.

“It’s her.”

That was all I needed to say for Davina to know exactly who was calling. We all referred to Alexandra asher.

“I’m out.” Davina walked to the door and opened it. “I’ll be back in a few for finishing touches.”

“What happened to ride or die?” I asked.

“There is one caveat.” Davina pointed at the phone. “Her.”

The door shut with a slam, and I grinned as I answered the call. “Hi.”

“Is there something you need to tell me?” my boss asked expectantly.

My eyes scanned her face for some hint as to what she might be referring to. Her expression was neutral and totally unreadable. Alexandra had an odd sense of humor. She liked to describe it as nuanced. But to my way of thinking, if your attempt at humor is so subtle that no one gets it, is it really funny?

“Ummm…” I wasn’t sure how to respond to that question.

“I can turn my head.” She did just that so her profile was on the screen. “We can pretend we’re in a confessional if that will help.”

“I’m not Catholic.”

“Neither am I.” Alexandra shook her head then looked directly at me as if my comment had nothing to do with the conversation we were having.

“We’re shooting in a few minutes, and I honestly have no idea what you’re talking?—”

“So you haven’t seen the photos.”

“What photos?”

She turned her phone so it was facing her computer screen, where I saw photos of Kale and me at a bistro restaurant in Malibu from a dinner we had the last time he’d been in town. Above the photos, the headline read:

Kale Butler Caught Dining with Mystery Blonde After Jessica Knight Seen with Massive Rock on Her Left-Hand Ring Finger

“What is this?” she asked as she turned the screen on her phone so it was facing her.

“Nothing. That was almost a year ago.” Technically, it was nine months ago, but I was rounding up.

“My top producer is dating an A-list star, and we get scooped by TMZ?”

Top producer?Now I’m her top producer?

“We’re not dating. We’re friends.”

“We need to respond to this. I can’t have them getting the jump on us.”

“There’s nothing to respond to.” I was trying to stay calm and not freak out, but the fact that this was now a story was not good. It meant people would start digging and trying to make it more than it was.

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