Page 110 of The Sun and Her Star

“Wow, that’s great. Thanks,” he says and with a wave, opens his door and disappears inside.

I ring Apollo’s doorbell again and am about to pull out my phone to call her when it flies open. She’s soaking wet and wrapped in a thin, light yellow robe that leaves too much to the imagination.

“Graham, what are you doing here?” She sticks her head out into the hallway and looks around before she shoves me inside and shuts the door behind her.

“Looking for Lucas? He went inside.” I prop one shoulder against her wall and cross my arms in front of my chest and watch as she processes what I said.

She groans and hangs her head. “I was going to tell you,” she moans and walks over to her couch, covers her face with her hands and sits down.

“It doesn’t really matter. He’s irrelevant. Why are you so upset?” I sit next to her and pull her hands away from her face.

She turns miserable, contrite eyes to me. Her face is glowing, and her lips are pink and puffy like she scrubbed them.

“I’m sorry. Really. It just didn’t occur to me to mention it. I never see him. He’s seeing someone ...” She trails off and stares at her lap.

“How’s your headache?” I ask and watch her drop her head into her hands. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

“What’s wrong, baby?” I ask, even though I’m pretty sure I’ll wish I didn’t know as soon as she’s finished telling.

“I don’t have a headache,” she says without looking at me. She hands her phone over to me. “I saw Nanette today, and it reminded me of something.” I take her phone automatically, but I don’t look at it.

“In real life? Here in New York?” I ask, completely blindsided. That’s the very last thing I expected to hear.

“You didn’t know?” She looks at me sheepishly.

“I haven’t spoken to her in two years. Why do you think I’d know she was here?”

“She invited me to join the two of you for dinner. She said you bought her the fucking purse she was holding,” she says with such asperity, I lean back.

“And you believed her?” I ask, not shocked that she would. But, just sick as I realize how much I still have to prove to her.

“Why wouldn’t I? Isn’t that what you guys used to do? Was she like your … sugar mama? Are you returning the favor?”

I feel like I’ve just been pushed out of a plane with no parachute. My head spins, and I gaze at her. “Why are you asking me that?”

She doesn’t respond, only nods at her phone. I look at what she has open and groan.

“Really? Hollywood Buzz?” I ask, but I should have known she would have a clue.

“Well, is what they’re saying true? Did you sleep with her for money?” she asks, and it’s my turn to stare blindly at the phone.

I don’t know how to answer that question. The “strictly speaking” answer is no. But, it’s also the less-than-honest answer. But I can’t tell her that without telling her everything. I can’t ever do that.

“No. She wasn’t my sugar mama. She lined up my work and took her cut. When I met Dean, I fired her.” I almost say, “that’s all.” But I can’t.

“Graham, I … when I saw her, smiling so smugly, it just took me back to a place I thought I’d never be.”

“You don’t trust me?” I ask, my stomach sinking as I realize that I can’t bury my head in the sand when it comes to Nanette anymore.

“No, no. I do. If you—”

“Apollo, I don’t want to force you to feel or want something …”

Her eyes widen, and she sits up straight. “What do you mean?” She looks worried. I hate this. I take her hands in mine and rub her soft palms with my thumb. I stare at her as I say words that taste like ash in my mouth.

“I mean, if you can’t get beyond our past and trust me to never ever go down that road again, then maybe we should …”

“Please look at me, Graham,” she pleads. I have to force myself to look at her and see the consequences of my choices. Her pain. Her mistrust. I did all of that. Am I asking for too much when I ask her to forget that, for whatever reason, I cast her aside?

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