Page 78 of The Final Draft

Sorry, just woke up. What’d I miss?

“So, like I said, own it with pride,” Casey continues. “Don’t hide from it. Own it.”

“You’re right. I will. It’s, well, it’s not about the secret, really. It’s how I was betrayed, that, well, you’re right. Casey, I appreciate you. Thanks for reaching out.” I don’t really want toget into my feelings with Casey, even though I’m sure she’d be up to listening.

“Anytime. I’m so excited I can tell Joey now. He’s going to flip, in a good way, of course.” I can practically see her bouncing with joy. Yeah. This. Casey hasn’t told her husband, the Carolina Reaper’s catcher, because she has professional boundaries. I know with absolute confidence she wasn’t the leak.

“Hey, I’m getting another call. Thanks again and talk soon.” I disconnect and click over.

Maddie dumped Fredrick and moved into her lavish Malibu beach house yesterday. I packed up my hotel room and moved into her guest room. My pity party relocated to Malibu, and now it’s a party of two. They say misery loves company, so we’re putting that to the test.

I’ve decided to stay in LA for a little longer. Honestly, I’ve been operating on autopilot since being destroyed two days ago. Madelyn’s been there for me, despite her own relationship issues. Besides, the California sunshine is nice, and I’m not ready to go back to the cold of New York. Granted, LA’s cold in its own way. Hell, it’s probably the most heartless place I know. Heartless. I feel it.

Am I licking my wounds? Absolutely. Because New York is a reminder of Harper. It’s a city of feeling. Passion. And my current state prefers no feeling at all. Maybe I’ll open a west coast office of the agency since no signs of recovery are in sight.

“Hey, Mads. Are you going to be home tonight?” I push down my sadness and try to make myself sound normal, practically chipper. I’m afraid it falls flat.

“No, and neither are you. We’re hitting Nobu, and I have to go to some club premiere, and you’ll be on my arm. Let’s give them something to talk about.” She knows I’m heartbroken and is trying to cheer me up the only way she knows how. She’s a good friend. Would pictures of us together be a hugemiddle finger to Fredrick and Harper? Sure. But I don’t want to hurt Harper. I want to try to forget her. Move on. I tried the happily ever after approach, and it didn’t work. Shallow and meaningless are the only relationships I can handle. Romance novels are pure fantasy.

“Not sure I’m up for it,” I tell her while searching the empty refrigerator. Another strike against the LA scene. They don’t really eat at home, if they eat at all.

“Too bad. I need some cheering up, you need some cheering up, so let’s cheer each other up. Come on, be a friend,” she whines.

“Fine,” I mumble. “But I’m not going to enjoy it.”

And I don’t.

CHAPTER

FIFTY-THREE

HARPER

I shouldn’t have put a Google alert on my phone because it’s constantly popping off, but I need to keep track of Julian while fixing this mess. I’m still blocked, so I’ve resorted to cyber stalking. It seems he was out with Madelyn Reynolds last night, and they were all over LA. He’s smiling, but not having fun. I’ve seen his genuine smiles, memorized them, cherished them, and these don’t qualify. Not even close.

He told me Madelyn Reynolds is a friend, and I will myself to believe that’s all they will be, even if she’s recently single. Some internet stories imply she broke off her engagement for Julian. Understandable because he’s so lovable, but they can’t be romantically involved. Because he loves me. Present tense.

It’s hard to watch him sliding back into his public life so effortlessly, after he shared how lonely it was before me. Unfortunately, he’s relapsed back to his old ways because it’s comfortable. But it’s empty and he’ll do anything to avoid pain.Clearly, because I’m watching the proof of his avoidance on TMZ.

“What the hell is all this?” Zac asks as he enters the living room from his morning skate. Arranged on the coffee table are two laptops, a whiteboard leaning against the window, and several notebooks scattered around. I’m in full-detective mode. I’m considering buying a corkboard and red yarn to tie it all together, to be honest.

“Just trying to solve a crime.” I pull the pencil out of my messy bun, and my hair falls in my face.

“Should I be looking for a chalk outline?” He looks over his shoulder, and I give him a maniacal laugh when Noodle barks at him.

“Not yet.”

He sits on the couch and leans down to rub my shoulders. I’m sitting on the floor in day-old yoga clothes, my glasses crooked on my nose, and my hair unbrushed. I must be a sight.

“Is Decker out with Madelyn Reynolds? Fuck, she’s hot.” He leans closer to get a better look at the gorgeous actress, her arm draped over his shoulder, dancing at some club. There’s space between them, so at least she’s not grinding up against him. I wouldn’t blame her if she was because he can use those hips. Those hips. I sigh. And thoughts like that get me off task. Need. To. Focus.

“Yep.” I shudder and lock my emotions away. They aren’t helping right now.

“I don’t know how you aren’t losing it right now. Tell me you aren’t going to snap or breakdown.” His concern is touching, endearing even. But I don’t have time to break down. Time is of the essence.

“Nope. I’m going to fix this.” I’m determined. I’m going to solve this, make him talk to me, and if he doesn’t want me after that, well, then I’ll fall apart. But not now.

Zac slides down from the couch and joins me on the floor. He puts his arm around me and squeezes. “And I thought Decker was the crazy one. You guys belong together.” I nod my head in agreement. We do. We absolutely do.

---