Page 146 of Relationship Goals

Am I supposed to respond to that? I have no idea. Is it a rhetorical question?

“Do you know why I picked you for this role, Ms. Hunt?” he asks, and I let out a relieved breath before I realize he’s asking me another question I don’t know if I want to know the answer to.

“You liked my audition?” My brow furrows and I try not to cringe at myself. Try and fail.

He lets out a laugh. “Of course I did.” Richard Grace leans closer, and he smells, of all the things, like the kind of hard caramel candy my grandfather always had in his pockets. Well, caramel and expensive cologne, but it’s familiar all the same.

His voice drops to a whisper. “I picked you not only because of your audition but also because of who you were with the press. You lead your life with your heart. You say what you mean, what you think, and that is all too rare a quality these days. Your character also believes in what she says, and I saw that same spark in you.”

Richard steps back, his hands braced on my elbows as I gape at him.

He sighs. “You didn’t let it destroy you, either. The press, after the wholeBlood Sirensscandal, I mean. You kept trying. You kept beingyourself.” A shrug lifts his shoulders, and I can only blink at him in surprise. “So to answer your question, Ms. Hunt, I am a hopeless romantic, and I think you might be, too, deep down. Just remember that I was nice today when I inevitably drive you bonkers on set in the coming months.”

With that, he lets out a hearty laugh, turning away as one of the producers steps in, an iPad in hand and a pinched expression on his face.

I’m in a black sedan before I know it, my phone pressed to my ear as the blessedly cold air-conditioning blasts across my overheated skin. The ringer trills against my cheek.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” I chant, willing Michelle to drop everything and come to my rescue.

The beat of my heart is a snare drum in my chest, hope a hummingbird that dares to spread its wings.

“Hey, babe.” Michelle’s voice is crisp and clipped, like she’s busy but still pleased to hear from me. “It’s like you read my mind. I was just thinking about you. I need to tell you something—I know you might not want to hear it, but I found out from the guys what the damned owners were holding over Luke’s head.”

“What?” I breathe, completely forgetting to tell her I’m on my way back to LA. All I want to know iswhy.

“His mom is sick, you know?”

“Yeah,” I say, worrying the hem of the Ninja Turtles T-shirt I threw on in my trailer. “I know—” My eyes widen in horror.

“He wanted to be traded so he could be closer to home. To help with her care and, you know, spend time with her. They refused to take him off the protected-player lists—which means he wouldn’t be eligible to be traded—unless he dated you. That’s why he did it, Abigail. So he could be with his family.”

“Fuck,” I say on a sigh, my stomach knotting. “Fuck. Why didn’t he tell me?”

“Probably because he thought you hated him.”

“Fuck.” I am such an asshole. I just couldn’t be bothered to act like a normal adult. No, I had to get all worked up and then dress like Gollum to try to get even.

That is the opposite of normal.

“You okay? Hey, why are you even calling? Aren’t you supposed to be working, too?”

“Uh, see, that’s the thing.” My mouth is suddenly full of anxious spit, and I swallow it down, then clear my throat. Gross. “Richard sent me to the airport. To fly to LA.”

“Holy shit, Abigail. He fired you?”

All of this is too much.

“Why didn’t he tell me that?” I moan, covering my eyes. “I am an idiot.”

Michelle’s silent. “Richard Grace?”

“No, Luke.” I flap a hand in front of me, waving away her question even though she can’t see me. The driver cuts me a look in the rearview, and I tuck my hand under my jittery thigh. “Grace wants me to try and either fix things with Luke or get closure. He said he is a romantic. He also seemed to think that me being hung up on Luke was…not helping my performance. Which, by the way, we also need to discuss, Ms. IFF Whistleblower.”

“Oh. He told you about that, huh?”

It stings a bit thatshedidn’t.

Then again, I don’t think I’ve been a very good friend lately.

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