Page 50 of The Wedding Hoax

Nope. “Yeah, don’t worry about it.”

I was too busy tossing and turning last night to even take a glance at the schedule for today. Thankfully, I knew that even if I wasn’t exactly on top of it, Paul would still have my back.

Thank God for Paul.

“Great! I’ll see you later?” Simone hastily poured herself a cup of coffee. “Maybe tonight?”

“Yep, see you tonight.” I barely had a chance to get the words out before Simone was out of the room.

Wait.

Was she running away from me? From how happy she seemed, it felt like she was barely thinking about what happened between us last night. But with how short our conversation was just now, I was starting to get the feeling that she didn’t appreciate how things had ended in her bedroom.

Shit.

I needed to do something to make things right, didn’t I?

* * *

“Are you okay, sir?” Paul placed a stack of documents on my desk. “You’ve been pretty quiet all morning.”

I’d been closed off in my office ever since I stepped through the doors of LA Now. It was never hard for me to make myself busy, with all the interview requests, headline reviews, and article submissions I had to sort through on a daily basis.

Still, it felt like I was on autopilot. Like I was just going through the motions necessary to get me through the day.

Like I was just killing time until I had a chance to redeem myself with Simone.

“Just marriage stuff.” I shrugged as I pulled the documents closer to me. “You know how it is.”

“Uh, no. I don’t.” Paul chuckled. “You know I’ve never been married. Hell, I haven’t even been engaged.”

“Right. Well.” I looked up at Paul. “It’s complicated.”

“Complicated how?”

“I think I fucked up, that’s how. And I don’t know how to unfuck the situation.”

“How’d you fuck up?”

“That’s irrelevant.”

“Got it. So, you want me to help you without actually giving me any information.” Paul nodded. “Can you at least give me a hint about how you fucked up? Lack of empathy? Putting pressure on her about something she wasn’t ready for?”

“I… failed to communicate how I felt about something in the moment.”

“About something? Or about her?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I don’t know what I was thinking. Or what I was trying to say.”

“And you think she might be upset with you about it?”

“I don’t think she’s upset, Paul. I know she is.”

“Huh.” Paul rested a fist beneath his chin. “Is she close with her mom? She lives with you two now, right?”

“Yeah, but I don’t see how that matters—”

“You should do something nice for her mom.”

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