Page 87 of How To Plot a Payback

And just then the door opens, and faces turn.

The room goes silent.

A tall, broad-shouldered man walks down the aisle between rows of seats. He slips his aviators off and lets them dramatically dangle between his fingers. The gray T-shirt is practically painted around his biceps, making Kye’s shirt choices look almost baggy by comparison (which is saying a lot). His face is chiseled, as stony and secure as his violently green eyes. By looks and confidence alone it is, without question, understandable that his is the face of the next superhero movie. And, for that matter, why apparently both Lavender and America in general have had their hearts stolen by him.

Perfect.

I feel the tension in the room.

Everyone’s minds and eyes are on the same thing: what will happen next.

Paula’s nails dig into my arm as she wraps her hand around me. Watching. As if this really is a drama.

I must admit, as his first foot lands on set, and I watch Lavender’s clear blue eyes land on his, I feel the first pang of regret.

A little bell is going off in the back of my head.

A twinge that makes me wince.

But then something happens that immediately strips away that feeling, or any feeling besides utter shock.

Because the second he is within arm’s reach, he drops to his knees. Wraps his arms around her calves. And cries out through what I can only hope are artificial tears: “Please come back to me, Lavie! Please!”

Chapter 17

Lavender

Friday, Final Dress Rehearsal, Stage 2

The thing about strong men is, it’s really hard to get them off your ankles when they’re strapped around you, begging for your forgiveness.

And for Adam Glassner, it took Kye, Finn, two security officers, and a personal detail, because while his love for weight training was strong, his love for me was even stronger.

Given everything that happened, we wrap up early. Writers are scurrying off in different directions to see what can be done to smooth over the plot hole now that Adam isn’t going to be on the show. Nervous PAs run by with phones glued to their ears calling for lists of potential actor replacements and double-checking that I can’t sue. Sonya for her part is crossing paths with them, on the phone with her lawyer (despite me telling her to hang up) to see if I can. Kye followed Adam out alongside the officers, as if he were some sort of official who could do anything about anything. Finn went as well.

My heart is still pounding in my chest as I reach the door to my dressing room and turn the knob. I haven’t seen Adam in months, not since I made the decision to step back from our relationship. Needless to say, time clearly hasn’t healed all wounds.

I open the door to my dressing room, head straight for the minifridge, and grab a sparkling water. The can sizzles as I pop open the lid, and with that the only sound in the room, I sit on the couch and take a breath.

I’ve taken only a couple of sips when there’s a knock on the door.

I open it.

Finn’s standing on the other side. And frankly, he looks shattered. Twice as upset as he did last time he was in here. Only last time, he looked worried, angry even. This time, he looks stoic, almost ill.

“Are you okay?” he says.

I give him a long look, then hand him my water. “Here. I look better than you.”

He gazes at it for so long I think he’s not going to take it. But he does.

He makes no motion to come inside. Instead, he holds the can to his chest without drinking. “I don’t know where to begin, but . . . I’m incredibly sorry. Again.”

He’s rubbing his temples now. He looks so upset, I grab him by the elbow and try to drag him in to sit down, but he’s cemented to the spot. “Good grief, Finn. There’s nothing to apologize for. He’s one of those delusional ex-boyfriends who hangs on to your legs and declares he won’t let go until you say you love him. Who doesn’t have one of those?”

“I was under the impression that he broke up with you.”

“He didn’t.”