Page 57 of Arranging Ayra
FIFTEEN
“I’m stranded,” I said as I stood there on the street corner looking around and feeling like a lost puppy.
“Are you all right, dear,” an older woman asked.
I looked at her and realized I’d spoken aloud.
I don’t know. I want to go home. My boyfriend just dumped me. My boyfriend just left with another girl. I want to go home. I had a quick burger for lunch and I haven’t had dinner, because my boyfriend ran off with his co-star from the movie he’s making. He’s a big star and...
“Yes,” I finally said to the kind woman. “I’m... Well, I guess I’m a little lost. How do I get to Harrods?”
“Turn back and go that way, turn left and you’ll see it right there.”
“Thank you so much.”
I turned and walked away, numb and unseeing.
Tears burned my eyes, but I refused to cry. This was silly. This was insane. Damn it! Barnaby and Rhonda deserved each other... so conceited and full of themselves.
My throat hurt as a lump of pain and rejection formed and lodged itself there.
I have to get home. I have to get out of the city and get back to Moon Manor.
But why? I thought, still shocked by Barn’s behavior. Was he really that angry that I had sided with Keely instead of him? Was this his way of retaliating?
Damn it. This wasn’t his first movie. He should know better. Keely was the director and he the actor. Keely was executive producer, she wrote the script, she set up the production. Damn. The film was hers.
But I had a say in the movie as well. I was more than just the music arranger; I was a producer on the film. I agreed with everything Keely did on the project. We shared the same vision and hoped for the same outcome.
But then again... was it worth risking my romance with him? Romance? What romance? Was this how romance worked? Hot one minute, cold the next? One minute he’s buying me a pewter cat, the next... No! He didn’t even buy me the pewter cat. The second he saw Rhonda, he set my gift down and forgot all about it.
Damn! I then realized that I’d lost my Harrods bag with my Harrods bear. Had I set it down somewhere? I was certain I hadn’t.
No. No, I hadn’t because Barn had offered to carry the bag for me. He left with Rhondaandmy bear.
Double damn.
Barnaby Darcy. Who did he think he was?
Who was he to demand that we take his every suggestion seriously? And who was he to treat me so badly?
