Atlanta! Was this news in Atlanta too? Last night when I was talking to Maggie I’d assumed she’d seen the story after she’d arrived in LA But a message from Jason meant that Atlanta had seen it too. And that bothered me even more. Did all my high school friends and enemies know? College people? Did everyone know?
Hmmm…I wasn’t sure how to feel about this. At first it felt so intrusive that people I didn’t talk to and hadn’t seen in years knew intimate and inaccurate details about my life—which I had to admit was something that Gavin faced every day and I had previously had no sympathy for. But I now had over nine hundred thousand new followers for my cooking show on YouTube and more than a million followers on Instagram!
How cool is that?
I mean, really! Every high school cheerleader who’d been mean to me, every cute guy who’d had no interest in dating me, every person who’d criticized me or looked down on me would find out I was the girl who grew up and dated world-famous movie star Gavin Braddock. Gavin was right—he WAS my conquest! Amazing. I suddenly felt a lot better about how things had gone. Gavin and I may have parted ways, but this was a pretty good parting gift.
I still had to face work, though. And then find myself another job.
I grabbed my purse and started to throw my cell phone into it when it rang.
“Hello?”
“Hey, babe. How are you doing?” an unmistakable, sexy male voice asked.
“Gavin!” Well knock me over and pick me back up again. “I’m…great. How are you?” I flopped back on my bed, then propped my head up with my free hand.
“Good, thanks, but I feel really bad about not getting to say good-bye to you last night. And being too busy to see you home. Forgive my rudeness?”
I lay down on my pillow. “Of course. I mean, you weren’t rude, you were just busy, and anyway, it’s all good. Thanks.” I stared at my ceiling, thinking about how I used to stare at the same ceiling and fantasize about Gavin. Now I didn’t have to. I knew the reality.
“I’m glad you’re not pissed.”
I flipped onto my side. “No. Nothing to be upset about.”
There was a mumble of voices on Gavin’s end, and I heard him say he’d be there in a minute. More demands from the entourage. Then, “Most women I’ve dated would’ve been really angry.”
“Oh?” I realized that all my flipping and flopping on my bed had probably wrecked my hair. But then again, how good did I need to look to get fired?
“Yeah, constant attention seekers. Always looking for validation. You’re different. That’s what I love about you, Eden.”
“Thanks,” I said, thinking maybe I wasn’t all that different.
“I mean it. I don’t want to lose touch with you over something thoughtless I did or said. Or failed to do.”
“Okay, I mean, yeah. Me either.” Where was this going? I guess we weren’t really over like I’d thought. But then, maybe we were, and he just didn’t want me to be bitter about it. How would I know?
“Can I make it up to you over dinner tonight?”
“Tonight?”
“Yeah, how about Nobu?”
Ooooh! Nobu! I’d never been there, but I’d always wanted to try it. “I’d love to.” I sat up and started scanning my wardrobe choices in my head.
“I’m glad you can make it,” Gavin said.
He sounded genuinely happy that I’d said yes. Had he doubted it?
“I can’t wait.”
“I’ll pick you up at seven,” he said.
Seven o’clock was in the middle of my workday, but I was going to be fired, so it wouldn’t be a problem.
“Perfect. See you then.”
I pushed the button to end the call and felt the “Gavin” butterflies in my stomach return. I was going to Nobu tonight. To be seen on the arm of Gavin Braddock, the King of Hollywood glitterati. Whatever this was between the two of us, it had survived the transatlantic no-sex-filled flight home to reality. Was it weird that I didn’t feel that happy about it?
After a shower, I made my way out to the living room where I immediately tripped over an open suitcase whose contents were strewn across the floor. I grabbed the back of the couch and narrowly caught myself from doing a face-plant.
“Well, it’s your fault!” Maggie yelled before I could say anything, popping up from the floor in front of the fireplace where she was reading a book and lying in wait. “I told you I needed my own space.”
“Clean it up.” I didn’t want to engage with Maggie even though I was sure she had deliberately put her suitcase where she knew I’d trip over it. It was a losing battle. I’d be roped in to her craziness no matter how hard I tried to steer clear. “And put it in the corner so people aren’t tripping over it.”
She slammed her book shut. “You’re the only one clumsy enough.”
“Clean. It. Up.” I righted myself, grabbed my keys off the counter, and started my escape for the front door.
“Hey! Where are you going?” Maggie got up like she planned to stop me.
“To work.”
“Well, what am I supposed to do all day?”
I didn’t tell her I’d be fired and would probably be right back. That would be fodder for additional criticism.
I shrugged. “Figure it out.”
“I haven’t even eaten yet. Aren’t you going to make me breakfast first? I’ve been craving your delicious pecan pancakes.”
“It’s one in the afternoon. Breakfast is over.”
“It’s not my fault you slept all morning recovering from your sexual exploits.”
“And it’s not my fault that my workday starts at two in the afternoon. Sorry, you’re on your own.” I pretended to concentrate on smoothing my hair in place. If you don’t look directly AT Medusa…“By the way, what’s the return date on your plane ticket?”
“I didn’t buy a return ticket. I think I want to stay here for a while. Figure out what I want to do with my life.”
I stare at her, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. My heart may have stopped.
A heavy sigh from her vicinity and a collapse into the easy chair. “My flight leaves at five o’clock on Sunday.”
My heart resumed beating. Seven days if I counted today. A full week of torture.
“See you later.” I turned and hurried to the door.
“Bitch,” she said.
I turned back and looked at her hard. She met my gaze with arched eyebrows and pursed lips. I left the apartment. I slammed the door.
∞∞∞
Monday. Work. Gag. Did everyone get that horrible sinking feeling when they pulled their car into the parking lot at their offices at the start of every workday, or was that just me? That feeling like the bottom of your stomach just fell out and all you have is pure dread of even putting one foot in front of the other as you walked to the front door? And that whatever horrors were awaiting you once you got through the door would be tantamount to an execution? Marie Antoinette being dragged to the guillotine.
Sure, it was never an actual execution once you made it through the door, but it was often your boss yelling at you and a lot of running around under time constraints and impossible-to-work-with news anchor divas acting like you were the cockroach in the corner and making unreasonable demands like “go fix this story fast since we have less than two minutes to air and you got it all wrong and it should already be on the teleprompter right.” And whatever you actually accomplished or tried to do was only okay, or acceptable at best, and everything else was a severe disappointment and worthy of a ten-minute lecture on how much you suck and you’d better get up to speed soon or else.
Yeah, work—that’s all it was. Although today I feared there might actually be an execution. Mine.
I arrived three minutes late, which was not a big deal. The lobby brimmed with people and activity—the bustle of the nightly news people getting there and the morning news people leaving. The room buzzed with the sounds of dozens of people greeting each other and trading news tips for
the day, but all of that quieted when I walked through the door.
Reporters, anchors, cameramen, and administrators all stopped and looked at me. Yikes. There was a moment of stunned silence in which I contemplated turning around and running back to my car and peeling out of the parking lot as fast as possible. Instead, I took a deep breath, swallowed my fear, and walked forward toward the hallway leading to the newsroom, being careful to hold my head up high and not make eye contact with anyone.
Slow claps of applause broke out and then were picked up all around until there was thunderous applause. I hesitated, wondering what was going on. I looked around to see smiling faces all around—looking at me. They were really clapping. For me. Kevin the intern put his fingers to his mouth and whistled loudly. What in the world? What was happening here? Since when did people start publicly applauding sex romps? But it was unmistakable. They were all smiling and clapping and making noise in my direction. I had no idea what to do in such a situation. Surely this was not the time for my twenty-years-in-the-making Oscar acceptance speech. Instead I smiled and did a little wave to everyone, turned on my heel, and beat it on out of the lobby and down the hall to the newsroom.
Andy was smiling. Now I knew for sure that I’d stumbled into an alternate dimension. This was not my universe but a universe that only looked like my own, peopled by lunatics who clapped for celebrity sex junkets and bosses who liked it when you lied to them, smiling all disapproval away.
“Eden! So glad you’re back, sweetheart.” Andy stood and grasped my hand between both of his. Sweetheart? He’d never called me anything of the sort in his life. If he’d ever used a moniker of endearment it would have been a “monkey-could-have-written-this-story-and-probably-should-have” grunt, not “Sweetheart.”
“Um…yes.” I shook Andy’s hands and waited for the volcano to erupt. Apparently, I would wait forever.
“We’re all just so proud of you, my dear!” Andy was beaming at me. Beaming!
“Um…what?” I asked, sinking into the chair in front of Andy’s desk.
“For the story!”
“What story?”
“The story of a lifetime!” He rubbed his hands together. “Ever since you took off with Gavin Braddock, our ratings have been through the roof! We’ve beaten every single nightly news program out there, and I don’t have to tell you we’ve always been dead last. People are salivating to hear your story. They’re writing in to the station, they’re calling in, they’re all dying to see you on camera talking about your Cinderella fairy-tale ending with the world’s biggest movie star!”
“Wow.” This was too much to take in. If I were being honest with myself, I had to admit that I really had been hoping just to be fired today. Was that too much to ask? Instead I was in the center ring of some bizarro three-ring circus.
“Yes, indeed!” Andy continued. “This is quite an opportunity. You and Gavin are trending on Twitter. By the way, since you’re here I’ll get your take on this.” He punched a few buttons on his keyboard and swung his computer monitor around so I could see it. It showed a split screen with identical pictures of Gavin and me together. Only the tag underneath was different. The one on the left read “Celebrity Couple Geden” and the one on the right read “Celebrity Couple Gavden.”
He drew his brows together. “Any preference? Gavin and Eden are difficult names to combine, so we’ve been having trouble coming up with your ‘shipping’ name.”
I shrugged. They both sounded like diseases.
“Gadden? Would that be better?” At my lack of response, he mumbled, “We’re working on it.”
He punched a few more buttons. A new picture sprang to the screen. My jaw dropped. In the picture, Gavin and I were linking arms. I was in a voluminous wedding gown. Gavin was in a tux. Andy saw my look and smiled. “It’s a Vera Wang. I had the graphics department mock up a wedding shot, just in case. But hopefully we’ll have full access should there be…impending nuptials.”
“You’re kidding.” I folded my arms.
Andy pulled at his collar and went on. “Your relationship has been great for the station. Our advertisers can’t spend their money fast enough. Sales have been unprecedented. The net effect has been in the millions.”
He bit his tongue and looked to the side. I was finally beginning to grasp the scope of the public’s interest in my—I know it was really Gavin’s but, hey, this was my life too—love life and the money it was generating for the station. No wonder everyone clapped for me. I was a freaking rock star. I’d have clapped for me too. Huh. All this because I was with the world’s biggest box office draw. Funny how reflected glory was still glorious.
“In fact, I was just going to tell you about your raise.” He cleared his throat. “Your contribution to this station is commendable and valuable. We like to see good work rewarded. I was thinking an additional…twenty-five percent?”
That was a good raise on my crappy salary, although not much compared to a “net effect in the millions.” But I still had a job. That much was clear through the hype. I supposed I should make the best of still being in a job I disliked and take the things that would actually make it better.
“Sounds good. Uh, Andy, I know I’m supposed to work tonight, but I’m supposed to go to dinner with Gavin at seven, and I was wondering if I could have some time off…” In addition to all that ‘sick’ time in Paris, I thought.
“Say no more!” He jumped to his feet and came around the desk, putting his arm around me. “That’s not a problem at all. From now on, we’ll work around your schedule. And if, in fact, you were to tell us ahead of time where you were going, we could have a camera crew there waiting for you.” He turned and looked at me eagerly. “I know you and Gavin would love to chat with us since you’re part of the KLLA family.”
I was seeing the quid pro quo here very clearly. I got to keep my job and have the freedom to see Gavin when I wanted, and Andy and company got front-row access to the unfolding saga of celebrity romance in my life. And a buttload of cash since apparently the lion’s share of LA’s ratings were hooked on said saga.
“We’ll be at Nobu at eight,” I said. I’d never wanted to be one of those people who gave info to the tabloids on their close, personal celebrity friend or lover in exchange for cash. But I didn’t put this in the same category. I was already a reporter. This was my job. And it made sense that my job would want to report on me if I did something newsworthy, which I guess I’d done. I pushed down the rising panic in my stomach. This was about me. I wasn’t really selling out Gavin—he’d be reported on anyway, I reasoned.
I was only selling out myself.
Chapter Twenty
Selling out had its perks. I didn’t have to stay at work at all, for one thing, which just goes to show you how much Andy and company actually valued the work I did around there. Andy sent me home to get ready for my date instead. I didn’t mind since I hated my job and wanted to look good for my date. I loved the new clothes and shoes I’d bought in Paris, but Gavin had seen all of those and my new raise was inspiring me to spend money. I’d happily use the time off to go shopping and augment my evening wear wardrobe, especially as it seemed I’d have occasion to go out at night again. Oh, wow. Dating Gavin had become my job.
When I got home to my apartment, Maggie, Sophie, and Corey were in the middle of a serious game of Settlers of Catan. Maggie and I played that board game every Sunday night with our parents when we were growing up. It was one of my favorites. Hers too. Maggie must have brought it with her.
“Hey, Eed! What are you doing home so early?” Sophie called out to me as I walked into the room.
“I got the night off,” I said. “I figured I’d shop for something new to wear on my date tonight.”
“With Gavin?” Corey tilted his head and raised an eyebrow.
“The one and only.”
“Will I get to meet him?” Maggie asked.
“Definitely not.” That was all I needed—Maggie the hurricane wrecking
everything between Gavin and me. Sophie looked up at me, obviously curious about my attitude toward Maggie. She didn’t know Maggie like I did. She’d learn, though. Maggie was never able to play at being normal for long.
“Got time to play Settlers?” Corey waved his hand over the game pieces they were arranging. “We can start a new game.”
I glanced at Maggie who was purposefully avoiding my gaze. She must have wanted me to play with her, else why bring the game? Also, I couldn’t leave Sophie and Corey stuck entertaining her by themselves.
“Sure. I’d love to.”
Maggie looked up in surprise. Corey started setting up the tiles for a new game. I sat down at the table and collected the red game pieces of roads, settlements, and cities. I was always red, and Maggie was always blue. Sure enough, I looked across the table and saw the blue game pieces in front of her. Just like when we were kids.
We played the game, and I was surprised to find that I was actually enjoying myself. Maggie was downright pleasant when Sophie and Corey were in the room. When the game was over, I made pecan pancakes for everyone.
“These are incredible!” Corey licked his fingers.
“I keep telling her she should go to culinary school with me,” Sophie said to Corey.
“I don’t think she needs to learn as much as you do, Soph,” Corey said, and Sophie swatted him on the arm. “I’m serious! Eden’s already there. She should skip culinary school and open her own restaurant. You two should do it together.”
“Thanks for the compliment, but I don’t have any interest in opening a restaurant. The stress of cooking for all those people would drive me crazy.” I shook my head. “I like to cook for a small, select audience of cool people, like you guys.”
“Aww! That’s us all right,” Corey said. “Anyone up for another game?”
I got up. “Sorry, I can’t. I have to go shopping for that dress.”
“You need my help!” Corey said.
“And mine!” Sophie said.
“Well, you’re not all going without me!” Maggie stood.
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