Page 110 of Sing For Me

“Reese, it was time. It wasn’t about pushing you into any decisions.”

But Reese pinches her lips. “Eli, I can’t.”

My stomach plunges.

“Listen to her, for once,” Cass says, and I’m about ready to gently shove my sister out the door and slam it behind her, just so I can have a moment to explain to Reese what I feel. How sorry I am for reacting the way I did.

But I know anything I say right now will just sound like an excuse.

Instead, I turn my back on my sister and say to Reese, “If he tries to contact you, if he so much as looks in your direction, I want you to call me. Please. I’ll stand outside your door all night if it means you’re safe.”

To my great relief, Reese nods. “Okay. And Eli? Let’s talk when we said we would, okay?”

The day filming ends. The day we initially agreed we’d fess up with everyone else about our fake relationship. The day we later decided was when we’d make the decision ourselves.

I can’t help think I’ve already sealed the deal, and not the way I wanted.

“Eli—” Cass begins, but her tone is softer now.

“Yeah,” I say. “I got it.” Cass is tough. Reese is too, if I’d given her the chance to show it.

With that, I leave the office.

It shuts behind me, the click like a final shot.

I tell myself they’ll be okay. They’ll be safe, without me there.

Still, I can give them some insurance.

When I reach the set, I have to grit my teeth to follow through on what I intend to do.

Simon’s sitting on the ground, right where I left him. Only now he’s holding a wad of napkins under his nose, and has his phone tucked under his chin.

“Hey!” he exclaims when he sees me. When he sees I’m coming toward him, his face crumples into panic. He crab-walks backward, his phone clattering to the ground. “No! No, please!”

My stomach turns at the sound of his pathetic words. Not because of what he says, but the way he says them, like I’m some kind of monster.

When I reach him, I thrust a hand down. For a moment, he only stares at it. Then he looks up at me, suspicious.

It takes all the effort I have in me to do this. I manage a feral kind of grunt. “Get up.”

He doesn’t get up. He points his chin at his phone. “That’s my lawyer. The call is still live, so he’ll hear everything you say. “

“Just give me your hand. Unless you want to sit here and wait for them to help?”

Simon glances warily at the cluster of TV crew standing nearby. They’re the beefy guys who set up and take down the set every day. They wear all black, and their arms are folded, their expressions hard. I saw those guys go googly over a drawing Sophie’s daughter made of them when she was in last week. But right now, they look like they eat whole animals for breakfast.

Finally the asshole’s hand clamps around mine. I pull him up in one quick move before I change my mind.

“Simon,” I begin, once he’s on his feet. His name feels like acid on my tongue. But he jumps in right away, his voice still muffled behind the napkins.

“You can say sorry all you want, but it doesn’t matter, I’m still suing your ass.”

I glance at his phone on the ground behind him. I know I’m going to need to choose my words carefully. But as he continues to go off, even going so far as to poke his finger at me, one of the crew members watching us separates from the cluster of them. He bends down to Simon’s phone and presses the red disconnect button, then gives me a curt nod.

It’s the impetus I need.

“Simon,” I say, hard enough that he flinches. “Shut the fuck up and listen to me. You do what you need to do; you take whatever action you need to take against me. But if I ever hear even a whisper about you going near Reese again, ever…”

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