Page 28 of Now Their Starlet

“Okay, so that’s three, who’re the other two?”

“There’s Everett, he’s⁠—”

“Wait a sec, Everett? As in Everett Vaughn? The label exec?”

“You know Everett?”

Ezra shoots me a look that says, no duh, before rolling his eyes. “Of course I do, Andi. The guy’s a legend in the music industry.”

“Oh,” I say. Honestly, with how attentive Ezra has been to me lately, I’ve completely forgotten about his own music career. Damn, does that make me a bad friend?

No, I don’t think so. Well, I certainly hope it doesn’t. I’ve had a hell of a lot on my plate recently, and Ezra and I haven’t really had a lot of time to talk.

“Damn, Andi, aiming fuckin’ high,” Ezra says with a quirk to his lips that looks like genuine... pride? It’s so different from what I’m used to seeing in Ezra’s expression. “Okay, so that’s the main four. They make you happy?”

“Yes,” I say automatically. “Happier than I ever thought I could be.”

“I’m glad. You deserve it, Andi. You really do,” Ezra murmurs before his expression turns mischievous. “Maybe when all this shit is over, you can introduce me to Everett Vaughn.”

“Like hell I will,” I snort, rolling my eyes. There’s that flash of the old Ezra I know, self-centered and saying stupid shit. “Do you have a fuckin’ death wish? They’re not fans of you at all.”

Ezra’s expression immediately sobers and a wave of guilt so strong it makes his espresso scent turn bitter and thick in the air around us, threatening to choke me.

“You’re right, dunno what I was thinkin’, sorry,” he mumbles.

“It’s... It’s fine, Ezra. Look, I get that we have our arrangement. I’m glad you’ve seemed to turn a new leaf, but they’re... probably not gonna get it. At the end of the day, I honestly think I’m only spending time with you ‘cause I have to.”

“I mean, that makes sense,” he says with a rare, self-deprecating smile. “Anyways, I wanted to hear about all of them. Who’s the fifth guy?” he asks, turning the conversation back toward me.

“The fifth guy is Cameron. We met... in a bit of a weird way.”

“Weird? Weird how?” Ezra asks, leaning back in his chair, seemingly back to normal, eagerly awaiting more information.

“Oh, well, he’s a journalist for Northline and he kinda cornered me outside the women’s bathroom at 4Pine when I was out with the others. He really wanted an interview with Beck and thought I’d be the best way to get to him I guess?”

“And you’re into the guy?” Ezra snorts. “Kinda a downgrade from the Everett Vaughn, Andi.”

“Hey, don’t judge me,” I huff. “There was a time I was into you, so obviously I never claimed to have stellar taste in men.”

“Shut up.” There’s no real venom in Ezra’s words. It makes the tension in my shoulders relax ever so slightly.

“I don’t know If I’m into him yet; we only met recently. But... maybe, I guess? We didn’t have a chance to explore anything before, you know,” I say, gesturing around to indicate the whole conservatorship situation.

“Sounds like quite the group of guys,” Ezra says.

“They are. I’m... I’m really lucky I’ve met them all. I’ve learned a lot about myself, you know?”

“Yeah,” Ezra’s voice has gone all low and soft again as he stares at me in a way that leaves me feeling a little off kilter. “I get it.”

“It’s time to go,” Stuart says, interrupting our conversation and standing from his seat, Carter following close behind. “Are you ready?”

Stuart’s thirty minutes turn out to be closer to twenty, according to Ezra’s fancy watch I glance down at, but I’m not about to argue semantics with a man who looks like he moisturizes with vinegar.

He has the sour personality of a pickle too.

I can’t help but notice the way he’s asking Ezra, instead of me.

I’m pretty sure that’s intentional.