At least I’ve got my job. Luck landed on my side and I managed to slide under the radar, unscathed from scandal.
As I finish a contract for a junior TV scribe who nabbed a gig writing for a hospital drama, I check the time on my computer. Tremaine will be here soon, so I tuck the papers away.
There’s a rap on my door. It’s barely open so I say, “Come in,” but Jonathan is already inside. “Hayes, we’ve got a problem,” he says, smacking his palms together as he huffs out a sigh.
“What’s that?” I ask, leaning back in my chair.
“I’m going need to let you go.”
I sit ramrod straight. Shock courses through my bloodstream. “What?”
“Yeah,” he says, holding out his hands as if he’s sorry. “Here’s the thing. I thought it was a little odd that Jewel left us. Jewel never said why when she parted ways, and that’s what was so strange to me. We made her shitloads of money. She had you over her house all the time,” he begins, scratching his head as he paces across the carpet of my office. My face turns flush, and I swallow, knowing where this is going. “So when she took off for my competitors last week, I did a little digging. Talked to Bailey on Lords and Ladies. Talked to some others. And let me tell you something: I don’t give two shits what our clients do in their personal lives. Jewel Stanza can do whatever she wants. And I don’t give a shit about my agents’ private lives,” he says, and he stops pacing to stare hard at me.
Shame washes over me, but I stay strong. I don’t look away. I will take what’s coming like a man.
“You might think because this is showbiz that anything goes. And while I’m fine with you pursuing deals and grabbing them by the throats, the one thing you don’t do is fuck a client’s kid.”
The shame disappears. It turns into anger and righteousness as it burns through me. But I tamp it down as I say through clenched teeth. “I didn’t have sex with her.”
He waves a hand dismissively. “Whatever. I’m not interested in the semantics. You have fifteen minutes to pack your stuff. Get out.”
Fourteen minutes later, I carry a box of scripts, picture frames, a few books, my favorite mug, and my laptop to the elevator. The momentary rage that resides in me has disappeared. Because I knew this was coming. It was a distinct possibility from the day I started letting Kennedy come to my office. It’s been more than a year in the making, and today is only the sealing of what was always my eventual fate.
It’s hard for me to have expected anything else.
As I reach the lobby, I spot Tremaine in the elevator across from me, looking down at his phone. The doors are already closing on him.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Kennedy
I blow out the candle on the cake my dad made for me, still amazed that he actually baked.
He slices me a piece, and I take a fork and dig in. It’s chocolate and it’s not bad, but I can hardly get it past the lump in my throat. Still, I try. For him.
He gives me a new phone as a gift. “I’d have gotten you a car, but you never drive in Manhattan,” he says jokingly.
My eyes widen. “I don’t want a car, but can I get the equivalent in cash value?”
He laughs, and I try to join him, but it’s too hard. He’s not the one I want to spend my birthday with. Nor are Catey and Amanda either, but even so I meet up with them to do karaoke and try to laugh, as if Bruno Mars and Imagine Dragons will somehow make me forget my real plans for today.
It works. For a while. Until darkness falls, wrapping its arms around the city. Tonight I was supposed to be with Noah, and the empty ache inside of me is so strong that I make excuses with everyone so I can be alone in Madison Square Park.
I find our bench and turn on a playlist on my new phone, wishing I could feel his arms around me, instead of feeling so alone.
Noah
The inn calls to ask if I’ll still be there tonight.
“I canceled it a few days ago,” I say as I run along the reservoir in Central Park, not bothering to hide the irritation from my voice.
“Oh that’s right. I’m so sorry for the mix-up, Mr. Hayes. I apologize and hope you have a good evening.”
I hang up, my hand still clutching the phone as I sprint past a group of heavyset, middle-aged men ahead of me. I’ve logged five miles so far tonight, probably one hundred since Jonathan canned me; maybe I’ll run the whole night. Anything to distract me from the date on the calendar, and the downward spiral my life has taken in one short week.
Later, after another lap around the water, and a hot shower, I sink down on my couch, checking the time once more. It’s nearly ten, and I only have two more stinking hours to go before this miserable day is in the books. Reaching across to my coffee table, I grab the one gift I couldn’t cancel—the charm I had made for her necklace. It’s a silver locket with a picture of the deer with the white heart on its butt. She would have treasured it, and I would have been so damn happy to give it to her.
I run my thumb across the smooth silver surface, and am so tempted to throw it at the wall. Anything to get her away from me. But I can’t because my entire body is hollow, and I’d do anything to get rid of this gaping hole in my chest. Instead, I spot a wooden box that’s used to hold coasters, so I drop it into that.
Even out of sight, it taunts me, reminding me of the night I gave her the necklace this was supposed to become a part of. We went to Madison Square Park that night.
Maybe that’s why I can’t shake the feeling that I know where she is right now. I grab my keys and phone and head for the park.