Page 53 of Off Camera
Hating you and being a nice guy when you clearly look uncomfortable are not mutually exclusive.
Avery
Can we pause our feud again? I want to leave, but he won’t stop talking.
I’m off the stool before I read the end of her message. I throw down a couple twenties and round the corner of the bar, stopping in my tracks when I see his hand on her leg.
I clear my throat. Relief floods Avery’s face when our eyes lock, and she mouthsthank you.
“Sorry to interrupt.” I lean my elbow on the bar. “Can I borrow Avery for a second?”
“She’s a little busy, man,” the guy says. “You can talk to her tomorrow like all her other fans.”
“That wasn’t meant to be a question,man.” I grab his shoulder and pivot his upper body so he’s looking at me. “I’m going to borrow her for a second. A lot of seconds. If she feels like coming back, she will. If not, I’ll make sure she gets to her room safe and sound.”
“You her boyfriend or something?”
“Or something.” My eyes land back on Avery. “Ready?”
“Yeah.” Avery shrugs her purse up her shoulder and jumps off her stool. “Nice to see you, Peter. Have fun tomorrow.”
The guy looks her up and down, a wolfish glint to his eyes. “You too, Ave. You look good.”
Ave.
These two have a history, and I’m not sure I want to know what it is.
She flips her hair over her shoulder as she passes me, and I get a whiff of her perfume. I ignore the glare the douchebag of the century is tossing my way and follow her to a quiet alcove that leads to a patio.
Avery pushes the door open and walks outside. I join her and lean against the railing, unsure of what the hell to say.
Silence hangs between us.
I scuff my shoe on the ground and stare at the patch of weeds trying to grow in the cracks of the concrete.
“Thank you,” she finally says.
“No problem.”
She rests her elbows on the railing, mimicking my pose. “That’s my ex.”
“He’s downright delightful,” I say.
“He normally sends his assistant to these things, and when he found me this morning at breakfast, I dropped my plate of cantaloupe.” Avery rolls her lips together and shakes her head. “Anyway. You didn’t have to do that, and I appreciate you stepping in.”
“Is this the one who was mean to you?” I ask.
“Yeah.” She lifts her chin to the sky. “I was so excited about how well my job was going. I was proud of all the things I created, and he hated my success. It was a hard break up.”
I glance at her, and I hate how pretty she looks in the burnt orange of sunset. “Did you report him?”
“Position of power, remember?” Her smile is weak, and I’ve never wanted to fight someone like I want to fight him. “It’s why I jumped at the chance to head to Baltimore. It meant a clean slate and not getting involved with anyone in the organization. I could make a name for myself without being known as the woman Peter dumped—even if most people knew it was because I was becoming too successful.”
“Peter.” I scoff. “He looks like a Peter.”
“Do you have something against Peters?”
“My high school bully was named Peter. They like to make people feel small so they can seem big. That asshole in there was doing the same thing.”
