Page 91 of Take 2
“Anna, um …” I glance away, not knowing where she went.
“She really doesn’t know how to mind her own business.” His gold award sits in front of him on the bar. What a strange sight.
“Yeah. I’m sorry. She claimed it was so she could spend some time with me. I shouldn’t have come. I’ll—”
He grabs my hand. “Don’t go.”
My heart does a full gymnastics routine, flipping before jumping into my throat.
“Champagne?”
All I can manage is to nod.
He orders a bottle and two glasses.
“Are you still refusing to learn how to tie a tie?” I click my tongue at his collar.
“I liked watching you do it.”
The pop of the cork feels like it signifies a shift bigger than I’m ready for. I take the glasses so he can carry the bottle and his trophy and lead me to a corner table with loveseats on either side. I could sit across from him but sit next to him instead.
I’m not sure if I breathe while he fills both glasses. When he hands me one, our fingers brush together. “Cheers,” he says as he taps his glass to mine.
“To your win.” I take far too big a sip.
He puts his glass down without drinking. “I’m not sure I’ve won anything.”
“Well, unless Keanu pulled aLa La Land …”
“No, I …” He drops his forehead onto his knuckles.
“You don’t need to apologize to me. It was a great story. And I love a great story.”
His eyes meet mine again, and it’s not good for my heart health. “It’s not just for a story, Mira.” He waves a hand at the Oscar. “This is for you.”
“Excuse me?”
“It’s all for you.”
My pulse pounds in my ears. “I do not need you to win an Oscar for me. I will win my own.”
“I know you will, that’s not what I—”
“This was always my dream!” Tears form in my eyes. “I was going to do it before I met you, and I can do it now that you’re gone.”
“You don’t think I’m extremely fucking aware of that?”
“Does that bother you? That I’d do it without you?”
“Of course it does!”
“Well, fuck you!” I jump to my feet. “I never claimed to be some damsel in distress who needed your help to accomplish anything, so I don’t know when you got it into your head that that’s how it would be.”
Storming away in an evening gown is a special kind of dramatic that’s fitting for Hollywood’s biggest night.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Mom’svoicecomesthroughthe phone as I pace Cece’s living room. “Oh, hi Cece. What’s going on?”
