Page 28 of Don't Regret Me
No one ever would be.
She strapped the kids into their booster seats and had just buckled her own seat belt when her phone rang.
Jasmine started talking before Liz even said hello.
“He slept with Sherrie.” She sounded breathless.
“Who?”
“Franklin. That’s why Nick punched him. After you left last night, I stayed for a while before calling for a ride. Franklin had a bit to drink and couldn’t seem to help telling anyone who would listen just what his history was with Nick. Once he’d sufficiently complained about the new shiner.”
“Was it bad?”
“No more than he deserved. Plus, I think he’s proud of it. It’s a conversation starter that lets him name drop. That guy is kind of a tool.”
“Jas, get to the story.”
“Right. Franklin worked for Nick during the filming of that dumb beach movie they were working on. That role was so beneath him, by the way. Most people in my circles think he only did it to save Sherrie’s career.”
“And it succeeded.” Well, the movie didn’t save it, but the accident did. She’d never gotten so much press.
“So, Franklin claims the relationship went on for quite some time. There are some things he said that I need to scrub out of my brain, but there were others…”
“What?”
“Even after he had too much to drink, if the questions got too close to certain topics, he shut up so fast that it left me stunned. I didn’t even know the guy knew how to be quiet.”
“Don’t leave me in suspense. What topics?”
“Well, the accident, for one.”
13
NICK
“What are your plans tonight?” Bentley asked as he stacked chairs, cleaning up after another busy day at the center. He’d asked the same question every evening, and every evening, Nick didn’t have much of an answer. Most of the time, he ate at the Beach Club. Except for that single night, he didn’t visit the beach again. Netflix was his best friend in town, especially after two videos now circulated on social media. In one, he was seen treating Liz terribly at the restaurant, and in the other, he punched Franklin.
The media ran with both instances, saying it was proof he hadn’t changed his ways and speculating whether he was using again or not.
“Don’t have any.” It was his stock answer.
Normally, Bentley nodded and said his goodbyes to get home to his kids. But today, he pursed his lips, his expression contemplative.
“What?” Nick didn’t have the patience to try to guess what anyone else was thinking. He barely knew his own mind.
“Come to dinner with me.”
“Are you asking me on a date, Pastor? If so, I have to respectfully decline. My life is a bit complicated right now.”
Bentley rolled his eyes, shoving Nick’s shoulder. “Don’t make this weird. I just got the sense you could use a friend. That’s what those in my profession are good at. Being there for people who need us. My mom took the kids for the night, but if you’d rather spend another dinner alone…”
“No, let’s do it.” Eating alone wasn’t anything new for Nick. He wasn’t exactly the most popular guy in Hollywood. Even Sherrie kept her distance a lot of the time—at least, when the cameras were off. If there was any hope of paparazzi run-ins, she was there. “How do you feel about Italian?”
He wasn’t sure why he wanted to go back there, to where the woman he couldn’t stop thinking about would no doubt spit in his food.
But before he could call the words back, Bentley smiled. “Love it. Though the best place in town is said to be booked up for a while now.”
Nick sighed. “I’ll get us a table.” He didn’t often use his fame to get anything, but there were benefits to this mess.
