Page 18 of Siren's Game

My head shoots up, taken aback. "Okay?"

"Well, that wasn't an apology now, was it?" She glances up from her phone and raises her eyebrow at me. I gulp. "You said that you needed to apologize, but you didn't. So what, other than ‘okay,’ am I supposed to say to that?"

"I'm sorry," I say, biting the inside of my cheeks to keep my smile to myself. "I shouldn't have given that interview."

"Okay." She puts the phone in her bag before she straightens her back, gathering her hair in her neck, like I’ve just told her how the weather is.

What the hell?

"Well, what else do you want me to do?" I frown, shaking my head confused.

"Listen, Asher, as nice as it is to hear an apology," she turns to me, crossing her arms in front of her chest and fire in her eyes, "it doesn't really mean much."

"Why?" My eyebrows scrunch together. Why is this woman so goddamn confusing?

"Because you gave your interview for the whole world to see. You opened the door for the media to make a big thing out of it, and in the end, it cost me a film role and a bunch of nerves.” She leans her back against the wall once more. “Don't get me wrong, I couldn't give less of a fuck about your opinion and it's not about losing an acting role, either. You're entitled to your opinion and you're also entitled to state it in your interviews. I accept it, but after all that very public drama, a private apology doesn't quite measure up to the deed you're apologizing for." She tilts her head and raises her eyebrow at me. “Don’t you think?”

Goddamnit. She's right. And I have no idea how to answer to that.

"Close your mouth or you're going to catch flies." She rolls her eyes and perks up when she sees a car approaching us. "That yours?” I nod. “Good. I think enough time has passed. Let’s go."

Without waiting for me, she opens the passenger door and climbs inside. I thank the valet who brought it over and accept my keys back, chuckling to myself. How does she look so graceful getting into my car? Luca should be around the same height as her and even he struggles with my high car.

"Wow," I breathe out and a low chuckle escapes me before I rub my hand over my face and circle the vehicle to climb into the driver's seat. She really is a firecracker.

"Sorry," she mumbles as I peel out of the parking lot. "I didn't want to make you feel bad about apologizing or anything. In fact, thank you for apologizing, but it's water under the bridge, really."

"It doesn't quite seem like it."

"It can be water under the bridge, even without me being overly fond of you," she points out with a shrug. "I have no intention of becoming besties with you. We'll go to this sham of a double date and we'll probably see each other on special occasions if our friends become a couple. I can deal with that if you can."

"Of course," I assure her, but an uncomfortable feeling is starting to settle in my gut.

There's something about her. She's . . . different from most other women I know in the entertainment industry. Which sounds corny as fuck but that doesn’t make it any less true.

I can't say I know anyone who would push back against an apology—but she has every right to. Now that she's pointed it out, I can't help but feel worse about the whole thing. At the same time, my respect for her manifested out of thin air.

Who knows? Maybe in another life and with another context where I don’t fuck it up, we could have been friends.

"Now, let's get our best friends together," I say in an attempt to change topics and she nods, her face setting with conviction.

"Something doesn't seem right," Kayla points out in a low voice when I let the car roll to a stop into a parking space in front of Fantasia, her eyes darting all over the people passing by the car.

I lean over and try to look around.

"Everything looks normal," I mumble and let my eyes wander over the people walking by. There’s an uneasy feeling in my stomach and I know exactly where she’s coming from. "Do you think we should have gotten security?"

"No, it's probably fine," she says, but her eyes dart around uneasily. "Maybe I'm just paranoid. You see no paparazzi?"

"I don't think so," I admit. All I see are regular-looking people walking by the entrance to the skyscraper. "It's like fifteen meters to the entrance. I’m sure we'll be fine."

"Famous last words. But if you say so." She unbuckles herself and grabs her handbag, ready to jump out.

Something makes me hesitate.

“Hold on,” I stop her, and she glances up at me curiously. “I’ll get out first and take a look. Just to be sure.”

"By all means,” she says dismissively but I catch the hint of relief in her voice. “After you."

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