Page 49 of Between Never and Forever
Or I just needed to not be in that penthouse with him, knowing he was on the other side of a door working and not talking to me.
She looked up from her laptop where she was answering my emails and said, “God yes. Absolutely. Let’s eat at the Italian restaurant tonight.”
Dex: Press release is in two weeks. You have a PA I should inform?
Wow. Not a “hi,” “how are you,” or a “was your rehearsal good?” That was fine. I didn’t need it from him. I never had before, and I wouldn’t expect it now.
Me: Send everything to Olive. Here’s her contact info.
Dex: Great. Are you eating out?
I looked at the time and realized it was about an hour after I’d normally have walked in the door. I rolled my eyes. He didn’t care to be around me but wanted to know where I was? We hadn’t talked all week, and I sort of hated living in his space where the ghost of him was all around me. What was the point?
Me: I’m eating at the restaurant downstairs.
Then, I took a deep breath and tried to extend an olive branch by inviting him. Why couldn’t we talk and at least try to be cordial during all this?
Me: Want to come eat?
Dex: Not particularly. There are four restaurants down there. Which one are you at?
He brushed off my invitation so easily that I put my phone away without responding to avoid feeling hurt. Yet, when I tried to pay for dinner later that night, the waitress handed back my card. “Sorry. Mr. Hardy has it covered.”
“Wait. What?” I eyeballed the blonde woman who stood there in an all-black dress with a tight smile on her face.
“I can’t take your card here. Mr. Dex Hardy said you shouldn’t be paying for anything within the resort.”
“Oh, really?” I narrowed my eyes at her.
Olive squinted at her glass for half a second before she said, “We probably want another glass of champagne, then.”
“I have an extra rehearsal tomorrow, Olive,” I snickered.
“Oh, right,” She agreed with me. Yet, I suddenly felt infuriated that he’d avoided me all week just to text me, brush me off again, but then take the time to make sure my meal was paid for.
Who did he really think he was anyway?
“We’d like a whole bottle of champagne. The most expensive bottle you have.” I added, feeling a bit liberated now. It would serve him right for declining me when I was just trying to be nice.
The waitress didn’t even hesitate to rush off for it.
Olive laughed before saying, “Well, a bottle will be nice considering we have to get through all rehearsals with Frankie. We’re going to need all that champagne.” She curled her lip because Olive hated my creative director about as much as I did.
“You’re a great personal assistant.” I nodded and assessed her jokingly. “Really helping me propel my career with Trinity by drinking down here with me.”
She smiled because even if I was joking, she had to know I meant it. “Honestly, if it wasn’t for my college classes and your residency, I’d say we drink through your whole damn contract.”
I couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled out of me. “‘A Drunken Keelani Nuclear Bombs Her Career.’”
“Wouldn’t be the first childhood star to spiral and want out.” She shrugged. “At least we’d get you out of your hell.”
I sighed. “But then we’d have launched your PR career off a cliff.”
She looked down at her nails. “I’d find other clients. Once I finish this master’s program, hopefully, I’ll get more.” Olive was younger than me and working on her master’s degree in journalism or media management. I couldn’t remember at this point because she’d jumped around one too many times from major to major. All I knew was I’d met her at a party a few years ago and she’d been kind enough to help fix my hair, saying she went to beauty school for a year too.
I asked her to do my hair again the next night, and the rest was history. “Did I tell you that Mitchell and Ezekiel are pushing for another contract?”
“And you’re saying no. Jesus.Ezekiel.” She shivered. “I don’t know how you deal with that weaselly creep.”
