Page 73 of Crocodile Tears
“It’s absolutely fine,” Ivy said. “Did you want us to sign that?” She nodded to the woman’s hands tightly clutching a pen and a napkin.
“Uh, just Deacon, please.” The woman rushed forward and placed the napkin and pen in front of me. “I loved you inOne Man’s Call,” she gushed, and Ivy smiled, ignoring the slight.
“Thank you,” I replied with a broad, fake—but believable—smile. “What’s your name? I’ll sign it to you.”
“Oh, it’s not for me,” she said, and I wondered if she was going to try to sell this napkin. “It’s for my daughter,” she added. “She’s had your posters up in her bedroom since she was ten.” I wanted to say that none of my movies were appropriate for a ten-year-old but refrained. “You can make it out to Sophie. S-O-P-H-I-E.”
The woman leaned over my shoulder, casually putting a hand on me and running it down my back as if I were an object just for her to touch. I was starting to feel like one of those statues where my biceps had been rubbed and fondled so many times they’d turned to shiny gold. I let out a little laugh as I twisted, moving out of her touch and passing the napkin back to her.
“There you go.”.
“Thank you,” she hedged, and I could tell she was waiting to say more. “Could I have a hug?”
My smile tightened as I said, “Of course.”
I’d learned the hard way, celebrities weren’t allowed to say no to hugs without being labelled as arrogant or rude. Apparently, my body no longer belonged to me, and I knew that Ivy had it a million times worse. Men were allowed to be “dark and brooding,” whereas women were just called divas. Ivy and I were made for public consumption now. It felt like I was taking more and more pieces of myself to give to everyone else until I hadnothing left—a stump like the Giving Tree. In a world where everyone wanted to take, Dove had filled me up. She’d been the one that had made me bloom instead of hacking away at me. I was more acutely aware of it now in her absence.
I ached thinking about her again as I leaned over to hug the woman. She lingered, and Sergei took a step in, placing a hand on the woman’s back to gently extract her. “Thank you,” the woman said, voice shaking with nerves. “You are just so handsome and firm.”
I laughed lightly. “You have a good night.”
Sergei started ushering the woman away and pulled the curtain between us and the rest of the guests, keeping us still visible to the bay window and the row of flashing camera lights.
“Remember when this used to be fun?” Ivy asked, swirling her straw around her drink, still keeping a mildly amused look on her face.
“It still is sometimes, isn’t it?”
“The fact you have to ask says plenty.”
“I mean, I’m grateful?—”
“Yes, yes,” Ivy said, wheeling her hands. “We’re all grateful.” She picked up her cutlery again and began cutting her steak before neatly setting the utensils down.
“You’re not going to eat?” I asked.
“I’m a vegetarian.”
“Then why are we at a steakhouse?”
“We’re here to be photographed,” she explained. “They can just throw this out when we leave.”
My mind immediately flashed to Dove and her hatred of food waste. She would’ve demanded a to-go box at least. The thought of food waste shouldn’t choke me up, yet here I was, wanting to cry over the smallest thing. I wished I could go back to a time when I’d thought Dove and I could never be together, whenI’d thought she’d never want me. Longing was far better than heartbreak.
“I’m sorry I’m being terrible company,” Ivy finally said, looking delicately down at her plate. “I should be over Eliza already. It’s been over a month. It’s your turn to be the grumpy, sad one.”
“At least we can be messes together.” I huffed out a laugh. “So, dating life is not going better for you, I take it?”
“Nope,” she said, popping her P. “The number of lesbians in the industry is already slim, and the ones who are out even slimmer.” She moved her mashed potatoes around with her fork, raking the tines across it like a mediation garden. “Sometimes it feels impossible to find someone who can keep up with this lifestyle.”
“NowthatI understand,” I said wistfully.
“Oh please.” Ivy rolled her eyes. “This isn’t the same. You had a good thing and you let it get away.”
I lifted my head, uncaring about my facial expressions. “What?”
“You and Dove were great together. Obviously.” She waved me up and down. “Not many people could handle being in this fishbowl,” she added. “But I think someone who wrangles snakes for a living just might be one of them. I saw her on the red carpet. She was in full control. You should’ve hung on to her. She was cool.”
“She wascool?” I echoed incredulously.
