“What do you need from me?” Elisa asked, voice kind.
“We need to start filming everything we can without our stars, until I can get Julie back down here.”
“Are you sure you’re the right person to fetch her?”
Dante clenched his jaw. So much for sympathy. “Let’s get back to work. I’ll deal with the rest.” He looked at everyone else in the room. “We’re on a deadline, people. Stop gawking, and do your fucking jobs.”
Elisa had a point, though. Something told Dante someone else should be asking Julie to come back to finish the shoot. That gnawed at him as much as anything. As far as he and Julie had come, there was still too much keeping them apart.
His phone range, jarring him, and he grabbed it. “Yeah.”
“You’re doing independent film now?” Nash greeted him.
Not the conversation Dante wanted to have next, but at least he could get it out of the way. “Nothing I’ve signed consent forms for.
“I knew you were going to fuck this up, but wow.” Nash laughed. “I never thought I’d say this again. You rose to the occasion in spectacular fashion. The higher ups at the network have already called to ask how long this has been going on. Did you give her the contract—the show—because you were fucking her? Do you know how much of your demographic you lose if you look like a cheating bastard?”
For once, Dante didn’t have a scathing response. No words came to mind at all, except for, “No, no, and yes.”
“Is this a joke to you?”
Dante could picture Nash, red faced and spitting into the phone. The mental image would have made Dante smile on another day. “Most definitely not.”
“Even if you’re stupider than I thought, and you think you’re above all of that, this is a contract violation. You appeared on camera, in a capacity that falls within your job description, outside the confines of network approval.”
“We both know that’s bullshit. You can’t enforce it, because I didn’t approve that video.”
“Bet me.” Nash disconnected before Dante could reply.
Dante had to clench his fists and force his arms to stay by his side, to keep from punching a hole in a nearby wall. A twisted laugh choked up in his throat—the only thing holding him back was that he didn’t want to piss off Julie.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Andi, talk to me?” Julie closed the apartment door behind them. How the hell did that footage get on the internet?
Andi rested her forehead against the half wall that divided the kitchen from the living room. “I’m thinking, instead, I’ll keep my mouth shut, and maybe you’ll start telling me things.” Her voice bounced off plaster, sounding hollow. “Because if you ask me to be the one to speak, I’m going to tell you that you’re a hypocrite who had the nerve to pass judgment on my relationship while you were flirting with someone else’s boyfriend. No, not just someone else. The man who signs our checks.”
“I’m sorry.” Julie struggled for the words to make this right. “I never should have said any of those things about you. You’re right—it wasn’t my place.”
“Then you’ll understand when I say I’m moving in with Kane and Isaiah.”
“Oh.” It made sense. Andi spent more nights with them than she did here. The clenching in Julie’s gut wasn’t because of the news, but because it caught her off-guard. She should have seen it coming. But apparently, somewhere along the way over the past few months, she and Andi had stopped sharing with each other.
“That’s it?” Andi straightened up and looked at her. “Okay. I’ll keep going. We’re supposed to be best friends, Julie. I wouldn’t be in business with you if I couldn’t trust you. I thought we told each other everything. And—okay—so I get that maybe you didn’t want to hurt my feelings by telling me you think my relationship is doomed, but I suspect it’s not that simple. And now I find out— Are you sleeping with Dante?”
This was such a mess. Julie had been so worried about the chaos at the bakery, so involved in her own problems, she let Andi down. She didn’t know where to start with her explanation. “We’ve never actually slept—”
“Don’t do that.” Andi’s retort was sharp. “Are you fucking Dante?”
Julie could give another smartass answer, like Not anymore. She wanted this out in the open though. “Yes. And Christopher. And at the same time.”
Andi stared at her, expression blank. Seconds bled away.
Uneasiness clawed through Julie. “Say something?”
“Sorry. You’re serious? So you went off—to someone who wasn’t me, mind you—about how my relationship is doomed because there’s three of us. But you’re the exception to your own distaste?”
“No. I’m not. I want to explain. Please?”
“That would be a nice change.”
Julie still didn’t know how to start. “I should have told you this ages ago. Like back-in-college ages. That’s when it happened. I was so embarrassed back then. I thought it was my fault. I figured, if I hadn’t been so naïve, if I’d been smarter about the whole thing, I would have seen it coming and it wouldn’t have happened to me. By the time I was almost okay with it, it never felt like the right time to talk about it. It would have seemed so random. Then you started dating Kane and Isaiah right after you got out of a long-term relationship with that cheating bastard, and it really wasn’t the right time to bring it up...” She was babbling like an idiot.
“Are you going to tell me now? Is it what made you think it was okay to pass judgment on the fact I’m dating two men?”
“Yes. To both. Not that I ever had a right, as far as the second one is concerned.” Julie took a deep breath and grabbed for the story she’d tucked away for years and was now about to tell for the second time in a few days. “Luke dumped me, back then. Not because we were fighting or because we were having any of the trouble regular couples have, but because we fooled around with his best friend—at Luke’s request—and then Luke decided he loved that guy instead and sent me packing.”
She tried to keep her tone cool. To convey how much it didn’t matter. But retelling the story hurt. It ground at her ribs and gnawed at her thoughts.
Andi’s expression softened. “That explains the raving about the amazing fiancé I just had to meet, then that spike of depression you went through.”
“Now you know why. I wish I’d told you sooner, but...”
“I get it. The timing was never right.”
Julie shrugged.
“And you expect my relationship is doomed to fail, because yours did. And at the same time, you’re willing to be that third person and possibly put someone else through the same heartbreak?”
“No.” Julie searched for the words to explain. It made sense when she justified it to herself, but aloud, it sounded silly. “I’m not... What I did with them was a fling. We all knew it wasn’t going to last, and as of yesterday, we’re done with it. But I was wrong about you three. I see the way Kane and Isaiah dote on you—the adoration between all of you when you’re together. At the hospital, it was almost tangible. And if anyone can make it work, it’s you.”
“How can you say that?” Andi furrowed her brow.
Julie stalled on the question. “I thought it would make you happy to hear it. And it’s true. They adore you. I can see it in everything the three of you do together.”
“Not about me. That what you have was just a fling. I watched that video downstairs. Even on a tiny phone screen, it’s clear Dante’s smitten. He hasn’t bitched you out in like... forty-eight hours.”
Julie had to laugh, or she’d overthink what Andi was saying. The last thing she should be doing was focusing on how much it hurt to deny there was anything more with Christopher and Dante. “He’s really not. The sex was good. That’s probably what you see.”
“Don’t insult my skills of observation like that.” The corners of Andi’s mouth tugged up.
“There’s nothing there. I promise. But if I do ever fall in love again, I promi
se you’ll be the next to know, after me and Mr. Knight-Two-Point-Oh. And I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. Really.” Andi hugged her. “I’m still a little irritated with you, but we’ll get better.”
That would do. Julie didn’t dare hope anything else would go so smoothly, but at least she had Andi.
Someone knocked, and Julie exchanged a questioning look with Andi. “Probably Dante, to tell us to stop wasting filming time and get our asses downstairs,” Julie said.
Andi opened the door and stepped aside, to reveal it was Dante. He was scowling—no surprise there. His frown was so deep, Julie wondered if she could store pennies in the wrinkles on his forehead. “Do you two have a few minutes? I need to talk to both of you, and Christopher should hear it at the same time.”
A wave of nausea passed over Julie, and she swallowed the bile rising in her throat. “What’s going on?”
“Downstairs.” Dante’s voice was strained.
“All right. We’re coming,” Andi said.
Julie and Andi followed Dante into the bakery, and Julie’s sense of dread deepened when she saw the last of the crew loading everything into vans. “We were only upstairs for half an hour or so.”
“Sometimes life moves fast.” Dante’s tone was flat and emotionless.
*
Christopher should be sifting through his security footage and server records, to figure out how the film from the conference room made it onto the internet. He tried. There was only so much to cover between then and now, and he couldn’t see anything that stood out.
Frustrated, he turned to the video of Julie and Dante and its newly-discovered fame. He loved the clip as much as he enjoyed watching them together the first time. He wasn’t replaying it endlessly, though. Instead, he was reading the comments.
The video had over five hundred thousand views, and it had only been online for a few hours. The normal troll-trash littered the feedback section, but so much of it was good.
Amazing chemistry
We want to see more of this.
Why isn’t his network show this good?
I’d watch this every day. It’s cheesy, but it’s sweet and fun.
“We all need to talk.” Dante’s serious tone shattered Christopher’s focus.
He looked up, to see Dante in the doorway, Julie and Andi behind him. That could either be good or very bad. Dante’s sour expression didn’t fill Christopher with hope.
“What’s up?” Christopher asked.
The pack of three filed into the room. Julie and Andi looked as curious and confused as Christopher felt. Another probably bad sign.
“The crew is leaving today.” Dante raked his fingers through his hair. Christopher hadn’t seen him this on edge in a long time, and that was saying a lot. “The network is shutting this segment down. All of it. It won’t air. There are too many questions, and they’ve recalled everyone else.”
Julie’s jaw dropped. “They can’t.”
“They can. They have. It’s a done deal.” Dante looked at Christopher. “You’re staying for an extra day or two. Long enough to lock the bakery down tight. If having my name on a place is cause for extra security, the hatred a video like that can generate will be ten times worse. Julie and Andi need to be able to do business still.” The flat tone he delivered it in made the entire situation double chilling.
“Of course.” Christopher wished he had an argument, but Dante’s logic was sound.
“Then you and I are leaving too. We fly out in three days. Let me know soon if you think this will take longer.”
“Just like that?” Christopher asked in disbelief.
“What do you mean?” Dante stared at him. “What else are we supposed to do? I had talk fast to keep this as an investment. Nash wants me back in studio.”
“Tell him no.”
“And then what?” Dante’s tone shifted, frustration creeping in, to drive out the blankness. “Tell my producer to fuck off? Quit my job? I’d hate to give him that satisfaction. Pray I can find work here? I could make pancakes at that little diner by the house.”
Christopher’s irritation spiked at the melodramatic attitude. This was what it always came down to. Dante was willing to mire himself in misery, with the excuse that it was for the job. For his dream. He refused to admit there had to be other ways to reach that goal that didn’t devour his soul.
“You’re being ridiculous,” Christopher snapped. “You could take your name anywhere, even with what happened today. If you want to go back to working kitchens, you could walk into any five-star place right now and demand a head-chef spot, plus set your asking price. Or you could retire. Live off the investments. That’s where you started. Why can’t you go back to that?” He didn’t want to have this conversation in front of Andi, but he was tired of not having it at all.
“And you’d prefer if—whatever that decision—it involves staying here, with Julie?” Dante asked.
There was no reason to hide it. Christopher told her yesterday he cared, and he meant it as much now. “I would. Yes.”
“I made my stance on this pretty clear last night.” Julie’s lips were stretched so thin, they might as well be invisible.
“And I don’t imagine you’ll be too prone to change your mind after I publicly renounce our relationship, so I can beg forgiveness from my doting boyfriend,” Dante said.
“Why would you do that?” Christopher wanted to yell at how out of whack this was.
Julie’s tense look faded into blankness. That was disconcerting. “What else is he supposed to do?”
Christopher slammed his palm on the desk. “Own it. You’re not some dirty little secret.”
“That’s exactly what I am. What we were. I never had any illusions about that.”
“Then I’m the only one?” Christopher looked between Julie and Dante, and they both glanced away.
“In your mind, what’s the alternative?” Julie asked. “You take me back to L.A.? Decide without asking me that it’s okay to tell the world about an us that doesn’t exist? My life is here. Yours is there. If this is how you treated Rachel, no wonder she left.”
Bile rose in Christopher’s throat, and Dante clenched his fist so hard, his arm shook.
“This is... You are nothing like Rachel.” A growl ran through Dante’s voice.
Julie’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Well, awesome. Out of all that’s gone wrong, at least you’re not comparing me to your ex.”
“It would be nice if you extended us the same courtesy.” Dante sneered.
“You’re right to make this decision.” Julie’s voice was eerily calm. “Publicly renounce anything to do with me. Sever ties with the bakery. Don’t throw your career away over this. Draw up a contract so we can buy you out, and we’ll get our money somewhere else.”
“Whoa.” Andi’s exclamation added to the chaos. “It took us ages to find him. Do you remember how painful it was, looking for someone who had money and believed in us? You don’t get to make this decision without me. We’re business partners. Or was the conversation upstairs empty words to you?”
“It wasn’t. And I’m not trying to do this alone.” Julie was so calm it sent icy chills down Christopher’s spine. Her tone was flat. It doesn’t matter that the video was a tame little clip of us flirting. The entire internet is asking if I slept my way into this investment. If you and I whored ourselves out for a taste of stardom.”
“You’re exaggerating.” Andi said. “And you didn’t even negotiate this deal. I did.”
“If that kind of detail mattered, the network wouldn’t cancel our segment. We’ll find a solution, and we’ll do it together, like last time. But it can’t be with Dante.” Julie turned toward the door
Dante moved to block her path. “The network’s decision isn’t mine. I may have to play by their rules, but I don’t intend to cancel this deal as long as we’re all on the same page.”
Julie stepped around him. “Make sure the crew doesn’t break anything in
my kitchen on the way out.”
“Don’t you dare walk away in the middle of this.” Christopher regretted the command the moment it was out.
“Really?” Julie raised her brows. It was the closest she’d come to showing any emotion. “Fuck you.” She left.
Christopher didn’t like the powerlessness that coursed through him. He would fix this. He had to.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Dante kept his anger at Julie at the forefront of his mind and let it seep into every inch and crevice, driving out the frustration her words left behind.
“She’s not thinking this through. You see that, don’t you?” Andi’s voice dragged Dante back to the conversation. She stood near the office doorway, scowling. “What do I need to say to you, to keep this partnership from falling apart?”
As furious as he was with Julie’s attitude, he wouldn’t let his mood destroy a business relationship. He forced enough ice through his veins to keep his voice calm. If Julie could do that, so could he. “I invested because the two of you have a solid idea. Your friend’s tantrum doesn’t change that. The only thing I ask is that you become my contact. I won’t work with Julie.” Not because it would be too difficult to talk to her, knowing what they almost had but lost. Nothing like that. It was because she was stubborn and controlling. He just had to tell himself that enough times to make it true.
Andi’s posture relaxed. “In case you haven’t already figured this out, Julie is a good person. Even when her temper runs away with her. She’s always got my back, and that’s the kind of loyalty money can’t buy.”
Dante wanted to give a sarcastic retort. That’s nice. Or, Whatever you have to tell yourself. “I know she is and does.” He frowned at the words, but they felt right. “The next couple of days are yours, since the show is canceled. Take it easy; you earned it. I don’t know if I’ll be back in before we fly out, but you have my number. Make sure you let me know how the grand opening goes.”
Andi gave him a soft smile. “Will do. If I don’t see you before then, have a safe flight.”
Control Games (Game for Cookies Book 2) Page 15