Page 15 of Until Then

All at once, Eden holds up her phone. Fabulous, we’re filming it.

I turn to go, desperate to avoid salacious headlines or clipped videos.

A strange wildness burns in her smile. “You’re cruel, Noah Hayden. A total player. Cheating on me, then saying I’m not good enough?”

My jaw pulses. “I didn’t say that.”

Before I have a chance to react, Eden clasps her glass of iced tea. Like in every dramatic rom-com, she splashes the ice and sticky sweetness all over my face.

Gasps and mutters fill the restaurant.

I curse under my breath, wiping at my eyes. With a few less-than-appropriate names—things like deviant, washed-up, C-lister—tossed my way, Eden slides out of the table and storms away, talking to her phone screen as though her entire audience was in attendance.

The paparazzi guy from the far booth follows her, camera clicking.

Fine. At least he leaves me alone.

“Well, wish I could say that was a first.” Alan, one of the owners of the restaurant, makes his way to me, dabbing at the mess. His peppered hair is long and tied in a knot at the base of his head. He looks like he might’ve been in a metal band or something once, but he’s always been unbothered by fame and fortune.

Pay for the meal, become a regular, and he doesn’t care where you live.

I give him a nod of thanks when he hands me a linen napkin. “Sorry about that, man.”

Alan waves a hand. “Ack, let it go. It’s L.A. If something wild isn’t happening every half hour, something’s wrong. Folks have already forgotten.”

I steal a glance. He’s half-right. Some people have lost interest, but a good handful are whispering and casting dubious looks my way.

“Come on.” Alan claps a hand on my shoulder. “I’ll smuggle you out the back before the pappos crowd my dining room.”

I snort a laugh and follow him, soaked from the brow down.

“Here.” Alan’s wife, who works in the back, hands me a white paper bag once I’m in the kitchen. She reminds me a bit of the memories I have of my mom. Kind eyes, pale hair that’s curly around her narrow face. “Saw the whole thing.”

“Thanks, June.” I give her a half hug. “Didn’t mean to cause a stir.”

Alan waves a hand. “Good for business. We get rumors going, and chatter brings folks in, hoping to catch some other famous idiot getting dumped.”

I chuckle and peek at the smothered burger June stowed away for me. “Well, I’ll . . . go, I guess. Thanks again.”

I plop some cash on the counter to pay for what was left at the table, wave, and give a nod to one of the line cooks who lets me out into the alley behind the restaurant.

Outside, I slump against the wall, and stare at the inky sky.

That was a disaster. No mistake, by tomorrow gossip will be scattered on the internet. Two things will happen—Dad will call and ask if I did anything illegal, then ask if I’m all right. Next, Rees will call and laugh at me until he can’t breathe.

Not hard for that annoying asthmatic.

He’ll laugh, but Vienna will take pity on me and let me video chat with Jude. We’re making major progress in our own secret sign language. My nephew won’t be able to ever hear my voice, but I will still have secret jokes with the kid.

I demand it. The fact that we’ll sign them is merely a bonus.

My phone buzzes in my pocket.

Carter: How’d it go?

I roll my eyes.

Me: If you’re asking, I’m sure you’ve already seen the video.

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