BARON
“Is that supposed to be an apology?”My publicist, Willow, mumbles through bites of blueberry muffin and questions my sincere remorse. I haven’t seen her since the day after her hasty Las Vegas wedding two weeks ago, and every phone call we’ve shared since then has been nothing more than one-word replies followed by awkward silence. This is my ninth apology for laughing at her wedding announcement, and she’s yet to forgive me.
“Did you get my wedding gift?” I inquire as if I didn’t receive the tracking information.
She nods and takes a sip of coffee. “Yes, we did. I’ve had my eye on one of those blenders for a while. Lawson wrote you a thank you card, but I tore it up in anger. You’ll have to accept our verbal thank you.” She lifts her chin and looks away with a snooty air.
I place my face in her line of vision and roll my eyes. “I laughed, Willow---big deal. If I’d come into that hotel room and announced I’d met someone at a bar, fallen madly in love, and gotten hitched in less than forty-eight hours, you would have laughed your ass off---admit it!” I point an accusing finger and then steal the rest of her muffin.
Willow sucks in a heavy breath and reels with righteous indignation. “I would not...” she stammers with obvious guilt. “It’s not the same!”
“Yes, it is! I apologized nine times, and each one left a horrible taste in my mouth. Because of your little waterworks, Seth called me out in front of Sebastian, and the little shit isn’t speaking to me. I’m almost positive he’s warned Sunny to stay away from me, and she’s why I moved twenty-eight hundred miles and bought a house in Greenwich Village. If you ruined my plans, I’ll tell everyone in the industry you’re the sweetest publicist I’ve ever had.” I threaten her in hushed tones with a mouthful of muffin, once again eating the ache in my heart.
“You wouldn’t dare! You’ll ruin me!” She lunges forward, hands aimed for my jugular, then stops midway, realizing there are far too many witnesses. Settling into her chair, she straightens her blazer and runs her fingers through her disheveled hair. “Fine! I probably would have laughed at you. But you must understand how vulnerable I felt after my wedding to Lawson. And no one could have predicted Seth would call you out and tell everyone you’re in love with their baby sister. For crying out loud, I didn’t think you were capable of loving anyone but yourself.”
“Must you?” I deliberately exaggerate my feelings to appeal to her emotions. People always treat me like a robot and say shit like that to my face. I grew up expected not to show any emotion except when someone yelled ‘action,’ and after a while, it became second nature. That doesn’t mean I stopped feeling. It only means it got harder to show it. But people won’t stop treating me like a robot if I don’t stop acting like one.
And now that I’m out of Los Angeles, it’s getting easier every day.
Her blue eyes grow wide with dismay, then travel left to right, scanning the room in an awkward state of confusion. “What’s with you?” She finally breaks her silence. “Are you really in love with Sunny, or do you just want something you can’t have? She’s nineteen and sweet as peaches. Don’t take her for a test drive if you have no plans to buy the car.”
What in the world? I blink twice, fluttering my eyelashes to focus on the woman sitting in front of me- the woman I know was born and raised in New York. I reach for my glass of water and take a long gulp, washing away the last bit of blueberry muffin now glued to my throat. “Who are you? Why are you talking like you’ve been watching reruns of the Dukes of Hazzard?”
She lifts her hands to cover her hot cheeks and giggles. “Oh, crap. Am I doing that again? I’m sorry. My husband is from South Carolina, and some of it is rubbing off on me.” She has the nerve to humblebrag minutes after I’ve informed her she placed my entire Sunny strategy in jeopardy.
I growl and bang my hand on the table, indifferent to the scene I cause. “Thank you, married lady. I’m so happy for you and your joy.” I run both hands through my sweaty hair, growing more exasperated by the second. “And although I don’t care for your insinuations, I don’t have time to argue my merits when I have an appointment in forty-five minutes. I don’t need a test drive, but I doubt I’m strong enough to decline if she offers. But fuck yes, I’m buying the car with all the perks and the extended warranty. Why do you think I just bought that car a twenty-million-dollar garage within walking distance from NYU?” I pull my cell phone from my pocket and scroll to find the photo album labeled New House, then slide it over.
“Holy shit, you’re serious. Why didn’t you tell Sebastian you’re not playing around?” She continues to scroll, zooming in to inspect every nook and cranny. “Are these the only photos you have? This furniture doesn’t feel like your taste.”
I wipe my phone screen with a napkin and remove her smudged fingerprints while I speak, “I haven’t moved in yet. I’ve hired a new security team, and they’re wiring the entire house before I move in. Everything is ultramodern, James Bond kind of shit, and the guy who runs it, is fucking crazy, but in a good way. I’m meeting him...” I lift my wrist and focus on the little hand. “In thirty minutes. I better head out.”
I step out of my chair and tug my coat from a nearby hook. I know I’m forgetting something. Willow stands behind me, clears her throat, and points to her jacket. I hold it open and let her slide her arms through, settling it on her shoulders and wishing I could do the same for Sunny. It burns me knowing she’s somewhere in this city, carrying her own books, buying her own lunch, and buttoning her own coat. I should be doing those things for her.
“So why didn’t you tell Sebastian your intentions are noble? Why didn’t you tell Seth? You guys have known one another since you were kids. They know you’re not a complete asshole.” She ties her scarf and cringes, probably believing it would come out as a compliment until she says it aloud.
“I did tell them. Seth doesn’t seem disturbed by it, but Sebastian is stoking the fires. And it stresses me out that they’ll poison Sunny against me.” I hold the door open and wait for her to walk through. As soon as we step onto the sidewalk, her husband’s hired car appears at the curb, and a man steps out to open the door.
“You’ve done pretty well for a girl who swore off love,” I hiss as flames of bitterness singe my lonely heart.
She nods, then turns to face me before stepping into the backseat. “Sebastian won’t tell Sunny everything, Baron. He’d never tell her you’re in love with her because she’s a young girl and you’re a movie star. He wouldn’t want to put that in her head. The only thing he can do is keep you apart, and the only way he can do that is to find a way to make her move home. You’re her friend, and you live in the same city. There’s no harm in being her friend. Start there.” She winks, climbs into the car, and disappears into traffic.
Friend?I don’t want to be her fucking friend.