Page 44 of Lucky Star

“Why, exactly, are you mad at me?”

“I’m pissed off at everyone.”

Well, that included two of us.

I stared at him, trying to discern my feelings. I was disappointed to see a side of Cameron I’d never noticed before. His only concern seemed to be that he wasn’t getting his way. I’d given up my fucking pride for his career. What didn’t he get about that?

I wanted to scream, to shout, and stomp my feet. But since he was behaving like a selfish, petulant child, someone needed to be the adult.

Looked like that was going to have to be me.

Calmly, as if speaking to a five-year-old, I said, “Do you mind telling me why you’re pissed at me? Specifically?”

He looked me up and down, and then stared deliberately at the armoire next to me. “You didn’t even fight for us.”

I didn’t fight for us? That’s all I’d been doing.

And when push had come to shove, he hadn’t fought too hard himself. He’d ranted and raved at me and then calmly marched his ass back inside the building to turn around and betray me. And he’d sat there, refusing to meet my eyes, when it had all gone down.He’d had just as much an opportunity to say no as I had, and he hadn’t. Now, he was choosing to lay the blame for everything that had gone down at my feet, even his own culpability.

“You didn’t either.”

“What was I supposed to do, Sarah? You’d already decided to go along with whatever Broderick proposed. You could have said no. You could have told him to go fuck himself.”

“So could you, Cameron.”

“Could I have though? You told me yourself that if I didn’t, he would fire me. Is that what you wanted?”

“What about afterward? That whole new and improved plan?” I sneered. “At least I had the decency to warn you what was coming, but you let me walk into that meeting blind! And when I confronted Broderick about it afterward, he told me everything was on a ‘need-to-know basis’ and I hadn’t needed to know. I’m your fiancé, and I didn’t need to know I was going to have to sit there and keep a straight face while Aerin announced you and Jillian had been together since your first screen test? And then continue to watch as you made cow eyes at each other and she laughed like a fucking school girl when you touched her? If I’m going to tell anyone to go fuck himself, right now that person is you.”

He jumped out of bed and wrapped the sheet around his waist. “Fine, you want to fight dirty. Let’s do this. What did Broderick promise you for persuading me to go along with the plan in the first place?”

I sucked in a breath. What had he heard? “He promised me he wouldn’t fire your ass?”

“Is that all?”

“Yes!”

“Then why’d you do it? I could get another job.”

“Right, because that’s been going so well for you.” I winced, not meaning for my words to come out as they had. Cameron’s lack of success was something I tried to stay away from at all costs because I knew how demoralizing it was for him. Especially since by so many people’s estimation, he should have been a star by now. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

He scoffed and ran his hand through his hair. “That’s real nice, Sarah. Tell me, when was the last time you sold a painting.”

Ouch, low blow. I hadn’t meant to be mean, but insult had aimed a little too true. The fact was, it’d been over a year since any gallery had asked to display my work, and my Etsy sales had dried up a couple of months after that. Then again, I hadn’t painted anything worthwhile in months. I hadn’t seen the point. All my friends already had Sarah Travers originals hanging somewhere in their homes, and my house only had so much wall space.

I prepared to launch into a volley of his many failed auditions, but at the last second stopped myself. That wasn’t the point of this conversation. Bringing up the past would only derail us further.

“I just want what’s best for you, Cameron.”

“You’re what’s best for me, goddamnit.”

There it was again. The question of whether we were good for one another.

During the short time we’d been together, I’d been happier than I’d ever been, but I’d also been sadder and angrier than I’d ever been as well. There were moments when I’d felt marginalized, and ever since I’d read those texts from his friends, I frequently worried how others judged me. Maybe it was all in my head, but until I’d fallen in love with Cameron, I’d never lacked for confidence. But since accepting his proposal, I’d constantly questioned whether I was good enough for him. The reactions from his friends and the studio had been resoundingly clear: I wasn’t.

“Your friends don’t think so. The studio doesn’t.”

“I don’t care what they think. You should know that by now,” he responded gruffly.