Page 87 of Take 2
She puts her hand out, and I shake it. I want to pull her hand to my chest. I want to wrap my arms around her and feel her heartbeat against me again. I want to tell her Nicole means nothing, that I’m just killing time so time can’t kill me, because when it isn’t spent with her, I feel like the biggest fucking failure on earth and no goddamn movie is going to change that.
I don’t do any of that. Instead, I say, “Nice to meet you, Mirabelle,” and listen as her heels click out of the room.
Alone, I ball my hands into fists and take a deep breath. I knock back my entire drink and rejoin the party. There’s not a single thing I catch about the awards, but I notice Bella eat a raw oyster. and I bite the inside of my cheek. She’s not drinking champagne anymore. The clear rocks glass in her hand makes me wish I hadn’t ruined her bubbly mood. When I get my next drink, I ask the bartender what she’s drinking and feel like I don’t know her anymore when he says it’s a double Grey Goose on the rocks.
I probably make mindless small talk, but I pay more attention to James flirting with a guy. Did she try to play him off as her date to make me jealous? Would that be a good thing or a bad thing? Was it just because she was pissed to run into me for the first time and see me with a woman? An earthquake would be really great right about now.
The wrong film is announced for best picture, and the awkward correction during the victory speech is going to be talked about forever. But it’s never what I’ll remember about tonight.
When I drop Nicole off, she whines that she thought I’d change my mind about spending the night. I wouldn’t have seen her at all today, but I didn’t think I could show up to Lisa’s party alone. As it turns out, that would have been extremely fucking helpful. Either way, Oscars night is off-limits. She says we’ll talk soon, and I know we’re never going to talk again.
When I get home, I text my sister.
Me: You seriously need to be with me for every Oscars.
She’s going to kill me. I told her I’d tell Bella about the script, and I was going to … eventually.
Anna calls instead of texting back. “What happened?”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Cecehugsmeinher doorway, and my nervous system dials down for the first time in too long. Then she yells at me, of course. “I wanted to pick you up from the airport, you idiot.”
“I needed to keep my phone off as much as possible.”
Stephen takes my bags and sets them by the wall. “We tried to google what flight you were on. Did you leave at 6:30 and go through Minneapolis/St. Paul?”
“Yes, but probably not the one you looked at.” I drop onto the leather couch.
“What are we drinking?” Cece asks from the kitchen.
“Irish coffee first?”
Stephen sits next to me, tapping an iPad. “Don’t you have to leave like three hours before a flight for LAX? Have you been awake for a million hours?”
“Yes, but I stayed right next to the airport last night … in Nice.”
He cocks his head at me as the call goes through to Morgan. Looks like James isn’t answering. “What were you doing in France?”
“You were in France?”Morgan’s face appears on the screen, and Stephen props it up on the coffee table.
Cece hands me a mug. “You’re as lost as we are. Hi, love!” She sits on my other side.
“You’re drinking coffee? I thought you meantdrinkingdrinking.”Morgan holds up a glass of wine.
“It’s boozy.” I take a sip and sigh. “I need the caffeine too.”
“Okay, so back to you being in France,” Cece says.
“Yeah. About that.” I rub my temple and press my eyes closed. “I was there with Ryan. We were sleeping together.” I’m glad I can’t see their reactions, but it also makes me think this could have been a phone call.
“Um …” Cece’s knees bounce next to me. “Please tell me you mean Ryan Reynolds.”
I laugh and open my eyes. “No. Not Reynolds.”
“Good,” Morgan says. “Because if that was the case, after asking you a lot of detailed questions, I would have to disown you for doing that to Blake Lively.”
Stephen reaches across me to shove Cece. “Yeah, how dare you!”
