40
SERENITY
I’d spent all of Sunday with Dash. When I was with him, I felt like a teenager, wanting to be around him all the time.
Last night, after another night and a whole day together, I’d finally forced myself to come home. It was easier to hide from the paparazzi at his place, but I hadn’t wanted to risk being photographed leaving there on a Monday morning.
It had made me realize that I needed to find a new place to live, though. I wanted to be able to spend more time with Dash without the constant worry of knowing the press was right outside, but moreover, it was simply time for me to move.
Ethan had liked to be seen, so he didn’t feel the need for privacy. When we’d bought this place, it had made me feel safer to know they were out there so often. I’d never done it, but in the back of my mind, I’d always known that if things got really bad, I could just walk outside and they’d be there.
All I’d need to do to expose him was to get out of the apartment and start talking. Those days were behind me now, though, and it felt like it was time for a change. I was no longer a TV star and the divorce had been final for months. Honestly, I should’ve thought about moving to start my new chapter someplace else a long time ago.
Everyone and their mother had my address here. The building was close to downtown, Hollywood, and just about every restaurant and nightclub the paparazzi regularly camped out at. That was probably why there was always at least one or two reporters outside.
If I moved a little further away from the action, I wasn’t sure they’d bother as much, but being where I was meant they were so close to everything else that when another tip came in, it was no trouble at all to just shoot over.
With my mind basically made up, I went to work, waving happily at the few members of the press milling around outside. Now that I knew I was probably going to be moving soon, it was even easier to be friendly with them, and frankly, I felt like I was on top of the world this morning.
Business was booming, Dash and I were moving forward together, and slowly but surely, I was taking control of my life. The possibility of a move in the near future simply felt like another thing to add to the list of positives.
I was walking into my office with a big smile on my face when I got a text from Julie. Distracted by memories of a weekend spent with Dash, it took me a moment to process what I was seeing as I stared at the link she’d sent me.
It was an article in a well-known tabloid, and the headline attached to it read Typical Playboy. Frowning as I clicked the link, my fingers went cold when I saw a picture of Dash leaving my apartment on Saturday morning.
I scanned the rest of the article quickly, my heart starting to pound when it started sinking in that Dash hadn’t ignored the reporters when he’d left. In fact, the article gave a direct quote from him, saying that we were just friends and nothing more.
The shock of seeing it made me feel lightheaded. I hadn’t expected him to come right out and say that we were together or anything, but he could have told them we were seeing where things went. Or he could’ve declined to give any comment at all. More importantly, he could’ve told me that he had.
Especially since we’d told the press that we were just friends before. After those pictures had been published, they knew we were more than just friends, so it didn’t even make sense to use that same old lie.
I didn’t make a habit of agreeing with tabloid reporters, but right now, calling him a typical playboy felt appropriate. The press wasn’t stupid or naive and neither was the public. Him leaving my place late morning after not having been seen entering just a short time earlier obviously meant he’d been there a while.
No one could prove he’d spent the night, but it was a definite possibility. None of that was rocket science. While it wasn’t his job to give them the complete story, saying that we were just friends made him look like a lying asshole under the circumstances.
As for me, I felt used. I felt like he still didn’t want the world to know about us—or even about there potentially being an us. Clearly, he was still trying to distance himself from me while I was the one who had the most to lose from our relationship.
The story about Dash and me before hadn’t killed the business like Ethan had hoped it would, but if it continued to look like I let men play me, it certainly still could. Just friends, my ass.
Navigating out of the browser with a trembling hand, I clicked into my messages.
Me: Can you meet me real quick?
Dash: Sure. When and where?
Me: Raleigh Park. An hour.
Dash: Can’t wait to see you!
Setting my phone down on my desk, I finally sat down and started up my computer, knowing that I had to at least try to get some work done before I went to meet him. The park wasn’t far from my office. I wouldn’t need more than ten minutes to get there, but the entire time I answered emails and worked my way through my morning checklist, I wondered what I was going to say when I saw him.
Do I want to end it? Can I end it?
As I thought back to all the times he and I had been in a situation like this before, I remembered what he’d said about knowing he was going to have to apologize again. But I also remembered him saying that he was trying.
The fact of the matter was that he wasn’t stupid, though. He could say he was trying, but surely, he knew the quote he gave was going to be published. Surely he knew they’d gotten a picture of him too. Even if he had misspoken or simply fallen back on the “just friends” thing because he hadn’t been sure of what else to say, he could’ve mentioned it to me.
He could’ve prepared me for another story about us and he could’ve told me what he’d said. At least that way, I wouldn’t have been blindsided.