Page 100 of Deliverance

“Starve to death. Never know the genius ofStep Up. Make a whole lot of crappy decisions. That’s just to name a few!” Santiago’s voice echoes through the studio.

When I get back a few minutes later, he’s already pulled the table away from the wall and organized all the cartons with food into a neat line.

We settle across from each other and I grab a generous portion of noodles. My mouth waters.

“Did you already talk to Miranda?” Santiago stacks dumplings on his plate.

“I’m seeing her tomorrow.” A shudder snakes down my back at the idea that the incident at the gallery may somehow derail my divorce.

It’s unsettling that a piece of paper could have so much control over a person’s life.

His face suddenly tight and pinched with concern, Santiago shoves his chopsticks into the pile of food in front of him and says, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

I shake my head once. “Don’t worry about it. I already asked building management to change my locks.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to get the police involved?”

“Not yet. I need to see Miranda first.”

Truth is, reliving my time with Rhys is too hard. I can’t bring myself to talk about my marriage out loud right now. I’m not sure how I ended up telling Zander about it. I blame stress and champagne.

We resume working on our plates and eat quietly for a few minutes.

“Sooo,” Santiago drawls. “The drummer.”

At the mention of Zander, a warm sensation starts a small riot inside my chest. “What about him?” I try to stay calm but it’s not as easy as I’d hoped it would be when the man in question becomes the main topic of the conversation.

“Last I heard, you kicked him out and then he shows up at your show, all prettied up, looking hot as hell, wanting redemption.”

“He didn’t do anything wrong.”

“No, but it was very chivalrous of him.”

“I don’t like surprises.”

“Did you tell him that?”

“Point taken.” I nibble on a piece of kung pao chicken, thinking about everything that was said the night of the show when we were on the rooftop. Zander was sweet. Maybe even too sweet for a guy who’s in one of the most controversial rock bands of the decade.

And I kinda liked that.

It’s a rarity these days and in this city.

“We’ve been texting.”Which reminds me…My gaze darts around the room in search of my phone that I haven’t checked since I started working on the canvas hours ago.

Tina’s probably cursing me like a sailor. Yet another reason why I’ve been offline all this time.

Perceptive as always, Santiago shoots up from his chair and crosses the room to grab my phone from the corner shelf. “Did you get to the sexy selfies exchange phase already?” His green eyes glimmer with mischief.

“Really?” I whip out my hand. “Who does that? Teenagers?”

He wings up his brow. “I do.” Then he drops the phone into my palm.

“We already determined you’re an attention whore.”

“This attention whore is the only thing that stands between you and malnourishment, girlfriend.” His index finger points in the direction of my plate. “Eat up, skinny Andy Warhol.”

I do as he says and send another chunk of chicken into my mouth while scanning my messages.

---