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Then, he rushes to get the next words out of his mouth as quickly as possible. “Contests to win a date with the leading man and the director of the movie, but for that to feel believable, they suggested it would be better if you were single or appear to be unattached and looking for a new leading lady. It would give the viewers the idea that they could become that leading lady themselves.” He finally peeks at Lucy from under his bowed head.
I turn to her and see that the color has already left her face.
Thirty-Seven
LUCY
As the wordsleave Mark’s mouth, he keeps his eyes on his desk. This production company needs to make up their minds. First they didn’t want him to be known as a single man, that he wasn’t viewed as romantic enough. Now that he has established himself as a smitten and fully committed man, they want him to be single and ready to mingle again.
My body begins to shrink into itself and my ears begin to ring. I always knew in the back of my mind this was temporary, so foolish of me to think it could end any differently. How silly I was to spend the last hour basking in the closeness with Henry. I was worried that it would stop once John had left, but it didn’t. Until now.
Henry begins to address Mark, but I stop him. “I think I should leave you two to discuss this in private.”
Mark agrees, “Yes, I think that’s for the best.”
Henry shoots him a look and then takes my hand. “Lucy, stay.”
Looking into his eyes, “Just as I needed to…handle things myself the last two days, I want to show you the same respect. This is your career and your job. I don’t want you to have that discussion with me in the room.” I look back to Mark. “Hear what he has to say. I’m going to head back to my place and give you some space to make the best decision for yourself.”
I don’t want him to think he owes me anything because that one night we shared in his bedroom.If anything, I owe him for that night.
“Lucy…” Henry says as I smile and make my way out of the office. I spot Tom’s car and walk in the opposite direction. I don’t care to explain to him why I’m coming out of the meeting so soon and by myself.
Thankfully this part of London is even busier than it normally is during the week. Shops are packed as I move through the crowd of people carrying bags all around me. Finding a cab only takes a moment. I ask the driver to take me back to my neighborhood with plans to stop at a grocer on the way to my apartment.
There is a very real chance I will be staying in London instead of returning to Henry’s home with him. Either way, I am sure he will invite me to return with him, but is that something I can put myself through?
It’s my own fault for developing this…crush on Henry. He’s always been upfront about things with me. We got into this mess with the mutual understanding that neither of us wanted a relationship. We started this for the movie production company, so it’s only fitting that they dictate when it’s over as well.
Just because our fake relationship may be over, that doesn’t mean we can’t still be friends.But I want to be morethan friends.Can I sustain the type of torture, having feelings for a friend who doesn’t feel the same? Is my great love story to be an unrequited one?
He will most likely go back to his casual dating, and I can go back to devoting my affections to fictional men.
My mind drifts to Henry in Mark’s office. I don’t regret my decision to leave. I couldn’t live with myself knowing he made a particular decision only because I was in the room.
When I arrived at his home with my ex-boyfriend without giving him notice, he immediately gave me space with minimal sarcasm. But that night, he let me talk and explain it all to him without pressure. Not to mention the endless patience he showed as the days continued until I could finally get John back to London. He deserves the same respect from me in this situation.
My phone buzzes and I hurry to check if it’s Henry, but I groan when I find it’s just an email confirmation of John’s check out from the hotel room with the invoice of the charges attached. Well, at least he didn’t order any room service.
An hour passes without any word from Henry. So I decide to distract,more like torture,myself by putting on the movie adaptation ofNorthanger Abbeythat Henry directed.
I plug my phone into my charger, and before I leave it on my coffee table, I make sure my ringer is as loud as it can be. Then, I lie down on the couch with my favorite blanket and attempt to let Jane Austen’s story consume me. Max is a wonderful Mr. Tilney, and when my mind wanders to his love of cooking and then to Henry makingthose recipes for me, I stop myself and focus only on the characters.
Just as Catherine is getting kicked out of the Abbey in the middle of the night, I hear my text alert. It’s from Henry. No text, just a photo of two coffees, one cold and one hot, sitting on a familiar-looking table.
I drop the phone back onto the table and move quickly to get ready. My heart is pounding. I don’t even waste a moment to text him back. Running around my apartment as quickly as I can, I throw my phone in my pocket and head out the door.
I round the corner to the coffee shop and find Henry carrying two coffee cups in the direction of the trash bin, a hot drink cup and one clear cold cup that looks to have an iced coffee in it, just the way I like.
“I hope you aren’t wasting a perfectly good cold brew coffee.” I’m out of breath from running.
He freezes when he looks up at me. I immediately start to explain, “I’m sorry. I just saw your text. I probably should have replied to you, but I came straight here.”
Henry smiles and walks back to the table we sat at when he first asked for my help to win over the production company and Jane Austen fans. Once seated, he asks, “So tell me, how did things go after you left on Tuesday morning?”
So anxious to hear about what he decided with Mark, I’m having trouble recalling Tuesday. Oh yes, with John. I answer with a quick recap of events.
He seems satisfied, Henry then asks, “So, do you have any plans for dinner?
