Page 22 of Beautiful Broken Love

“I’m sure that’ll be the last deal I take for a while,” I said. “These busy summers are wearing me out.”

Arnold wiped sweat from his forehead. “Yeah, I feel you, big guy.” I hated when he called me that. “But hey. Let’s not make any promises to ourselves right now. Someone might approach with an even bigger check—you know what I mean?” He let out an obnoxious laugh, and I tried not to roll my eyes as he whipped his phone out.

Don’t get me wrong, Arnold was a dope manager—I wouldn’t have gotten half the endorsements I had without him—but the dude could be annoying as fuck.

“I’ll let the driver know we’re ready. Oh—by the way, if you’re stressed about your schedule or anything, you’ve got a lucky break next weekend. Golden Oil reached out, said they’re rescheduling their rebranding party. Oh—car is right over here.”

“Wait, why are they rescheduling?” I asked, automatically thinking of Davina.

“The CEO—that Davina chick—decided to take a week off for mental health reasons. Apparently, her dead husband’s birthday is around the same date as the party was, and she changed her mind. Talk about a mood killer.” He chuckled. “I told them it was no big deal and that we could discuss a date that worked for you later.”

Arnold continued his trek to the car, but I stopped in my tracks, digesting all the words that came out of his mouth for once.

Davina’s husband wasdead? How the hell didn’t I know this? I mean, with that ring of hers, I figured ...

Wait. At the dinner, when I tapped her ring and she tensed up, she wanted nothing to do with me after that. It was like she couldn’t get out of the restaurant fast enough. And that look in her eyes ... damn.

I was right. Shewasn’thappy, not because her husband was a piece of shit or they had a long-distance thing going but because he wasdead.

Suddenly it all made sense—the spinal-cancer charity she was donating to, the way she kept her distance at the photo shoot. The slight standoffishness.

“Hey, Deke!” Arnold called. I peered up, and he was frowning at me from the open door of the SUV. “You comin’ or what?”

I shuffled forward, but something about that news wasn’t sitting right with me. I don’t know why I cared, but it was bugging me now, knowing she was grieving a loss.

Grief is a whole other pain, one I’mveryfamiliar with, yet there she was, smiling and going to dinner with me like her life hadn’t been forever altered.

I climbed into the SUV, and when the chauffeur closed the back door behind me, I asked my manager, “Do you have her email address?”

“Who?” Arnold asked absentmindedly as he scrolled through his phone.

“Davina, man. I want to send my condolences.”

Arnold finally looked up and tilted his sweaty bald head. “Oh, you don’t have to worry about that, Deke. I did it for you. Sent an email on your behalf. Plus, he died sometime last year. Wouldn’t make sense to bring it up again.”

Normally I would’ve been fine with Arnold taking that initiative, but this time was different. Davinaneededto hear from me personally.

“Nah. I need to reach out to her myself.”

Arnold hesitated as the chauffeur slid into his designated seat behind the steering wheel. “Uh, yeah. All right. I’ll text her email address to you right now.”

“Appreciate it,big guy.”

TWELVE

DAVINA

My husband is dead.

Some mornings I forgot ... until the reality sank in.

I squeezed my eyes shut to cool the burn and soothe the hangover. My head was throbbing, and I could do with some water and aspirin, but judging by the dishes clinking from afar and the missing wineglass that had been on my nightstand the night before, my sister was still around.

If I left this room, she’d make me leave my house toshake things up. Though we’d had a few drinks last night to celebrate Lew’s birthday early, I wasn’t up for much that morning.

There was a knock on the door, and I buried myself deeper beneath the comforter. “Go away,” I groaned.

I heard Octavia’s footsteps as she rounded the bed, then felt the mattress dip as she sat at the bottom of it. The weight of her hand pressed down on my leg, and silence lingered for a few seconds before she said, “You know it’s almost one o’clock.”

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