Happily Ever After? (Sleeping Handsome Sequel) (6 page)

Okay, he had no idea. I shouldn’t be
upset with him. At least that’s what I’m telling myself. And
allowing Amanda to create friction between Zach and me isn’t an
option. I refuse to be sucked into my past.

After getting my knee to settle, I
slowly move toward the desk and computer.

Zach,

Awesome job on the
outline. You’re worried about three percent? The outline was
probably so perfect your professor searched for something to
nitpick. Really, I’m sure it was one hundred percent.

Okay, I’m not going to
lie. Your dinner with Amanda has me a bit upset. You, Amanda, and
even Drake at a table together freaks me out. But I understand you
were blindsided. However, I’m not sure I want Drake knowing about
my past. It’s just so embarrassing I acted like that. Maybe you
could just let him know you don’t really care for her or something?
That you don’t want to be around her.

Like as soon as
possible.

And yes, one huge squee on
the twelve days!

My squeal beat an Emily
squeal hands down.

Love ya,

Paige

Though I feel much more anxiety than
my email reveals, I hit send. I’m trying very, very hard not to let
the past define me.

~8~

Zach

Worked sucked today. The day was never
ending, yet there was one major reason for the suckage. And I’m
somewhat afraid of disclosing today to Paige. Especially after her
forthright email about dinner the other day. But I will.

“
Dude, why are you home so
late?” Drake asks from his ever-present spot in front of the TV as
I walk inside the apartment. “You missed a major online shoot
out.”

Drake works days. I mostly work
afternoons and evenings. He spends his nights gaming or partying. I
try to spend the nights I’m home doing homework, reading, or
writing. If Paige were here, I’d be spending time with her. “Did
the hat help?” I ask, referring to the green plastic on his
head.

“
Definitely. Luck O’ the
Irish, you know?” He nods over his shoulder. “That came for you
today.”

I move toward the box on the counter.
Paige’s handwriting is scrawled across the top. After searching
amid the junk drawer—how we’ve accumulated so much junk in less
than two months is beyond me—for scissors, I cut the string around
the box. Inside above the tissue paper lies a note.

Wanted to make our plans
for a winter ski trip to Mammoth Mountain official. Hope you like.
Made in Finland it’s supposed to be the best.

Love,

P

Under the tissue, I find a
dark plain cap with the tag
Finnsvala
across the front. With the
smooth fabric—something Paige touched—in my hand, the gift brings a
longing for her deep inside of me. Then guilt at the sight of my
hand holding something hers did. Though I shouldn’t feel that way,
I do.

Something thuds on the carpet. I’m
guessing a controller.

“
She sent you a hat?”
Drake says, suddenly behind me. “Tight. It’s kind of plain
though.”

“
It’s for skiing not for
parading around the apartment.”

“
Now parades, they have
some cool hats in them.”

Resisting an eye roll, I grab the hat,
the box, and the note then head to my room.

“
You gonna play tonight?”
Drake shouts from the living room.

“
No. I’ve got some stuff
to do.”

“
More love letters?” he
yells then adds with a laugh, “You are
so
whipped.”

Shutting my door, I cringe. If only it
were a simple love letter. I’m afraid today’s email is not going to
go well. At least that’s what my gut is communicating.

I grab my phone, lie on
the bed, and hit random on the music. I need to collect my thoughts
before I email Paige.
Somebody That I Used
To Know
plays in my ears. Shit. Like I
need to hear this right now. I rip my earbuds out then toss my
phone on the dresser. The damn song feels like an omen.

Yet I have to believe Paige trusts
me.

I reluctantly reach for my
computer.

After a crap load of sighing and
temple rubbing, I begin to type.

Hey Paige,

I miss you so damn much,
but I hope everything’s still going excellent for you. I’m
expecting to be wowed—as usual—by your performance on the big
screen.

Today was one odd day.
Although I was booked solid, they wanted me to do my two-week
performance review. And I’m not sure how it happened, but Amanda
was my trainee. Maybe wanting to be a trainer someday, she
volunteered?

I’m aware this is probably
upsetting. However, other than a bit of chitchat in the beginning
and end, she acted like the model trainee. She asked questions and
even had me show her some of the reps. Bryce, one of the managers,
was there the whole time. I was actually more worried about him and
his little clipboard more than anything else. Amanda’s performance
really helped. I hate to say this but she seemed nice, even asked
about Drake. From what you shared about her, I know that seems
impossible. Maybe she’s changed? Anyway, I got a perfect score on
the review. More important, I’m hoping this doesn’t upset you too
much. It really was just a work thing.

By the way, your hat came
today. It was a perfect gift.

Now I can’t wait for
winter.

Missing you,

Z

What I’ve left unsaid—saying it just
seemed too cruel—is going to be the dilemma. And Paige isn’t dumb.
She’s going to know my hands were all over Amanda. It goes with the
territory. I’m just hoping she doesn’t let the past interfere with
the future.

With us.

~9~

Paige

Oh hell no.

Upsetting?

You think?

Wanting to throw my laptop across the
room, I stand up and get away from the desk. I end up pacing the
short length of the sitting room. My fists clench at my
sides.

He thinks she’s nice?
Thinks she has changed? Thinks she’s after Drake? What a moron. Men
are so clueless.
She’s after you
idiot.
What does he think? She stole
guys—okay they were never really mine—from me by being a bitch?
This is major. She just made her first move.

On my oblivious boyfriend.

I’m so livid. I can feel my nails
about to break the skin of my palms. Unclenching my fists, I lean
on the wide windowsill and force myself to breathe. I’m about to
burst into tears. Thousands of miles away from Zach, I feel
helpless. The rooftops below me are a blur.

I trust him. I trust him. I trust
him.

But what if?

She has done it before. She always won
when it came to guys. She always won when it came to anything.
Period.

I sigh and wipe wet frustration from
my face.

Even though I trust him, the thought
of her near him, the thought of his hands on her has me freakin’
furious. The image of them together with his palm on her
stomach—his fingers feeling the tightening of her muscles—as she
crunches underneath his touch has me wanting to scrape my frontal
lobe. Gross. To both.

The sound of a knock on my door pulls
me from the vicious circle of my thoughts.

I just stand there. A louder knock
sounds and I force myself across the soft beige carpet. Passing the
mirror, I check for sings of turmoil. The tears and smears of
makeup—I’m still a little shocked at how much they pile on me each
day—are gone after another wipe. And a calm, cordial expression
helps distract from my red and slightly puffy eyes.

I’m not surprised to see Bret waiting
in the hallway. We really have become friends the last few weeks.
Even riding together every day to and from the set.

“
Hey,” he says. “We’re all
going to this new restaurant…” He studies my face as he steps into
my room. “Something wrong? You okay?”

I close the door. “Just—just some
issues with my boyfriend.”

He puts a hand on my shoulder. “Do you
want to talk about it?”

“
No.” I shake my head
roughly. “No. I don’t. Reliving it and all that.”

He clears his throat and gives me a
gentle look from those green eyes. “So you probably don’t want to
go out.”

I’m about to say I don’t,
I’m supposed to call Zach later, but the thought of talking to him
has my stomach rolling. I’m upset. Very upset. I need some time,
how much I don’t know, before talking to him. Because it would be
very, very ugly at the moment.
She seemed
somewhat nice…
After everything I told him,
how can he think that? Does he even listen to me? Why couldn’t he
just tell his manager something to get out of the review? He had to
know instantly that I would be upset. Usually he’s so in tune to my
feelings. Usually he goes out of his way for me. So why not this
time?

I give Bret a weak smile. “I’ll go. I
can meet you in the lobby in about fifteen?”

He frowns. “Too many of my fans in the
lobby. I’ll wait for you here if that’s okay.”

“
Um, sure,” I say,
brushing past him into the room and wondering if he really has that
many fans downstairs. I at least need to send Zach an email. Not
calling without a warning will probably freak him out. I know it
would me. “I just need to send an email and wash—freshen
up.”

He brushes his hair back from his
forehead. “Take your time. We’re not supposed to be there until
nine.”

Very conscious of Bret sitting behind
me on the couch, I type out a quick message while practically
gnawing off my bottom lip.

Zach,

I’m a little upset
(More like whole freakin’ lot)
that you trained with her, but I really don’t
have time to get into my feelings right now. I’m going to dinner
tonight with a bunch of other actors and some of the crew so I
won’t be able to call. Sorry. I’ll write tomorrow.

Paige

I let out a breath and turn
around.

Bret stares at me. “Everything still
okay?”

“
Ah…yeah. Just give me a
few more minutes.”

In the marble bathroom, I wash my
face, wipe on some moisturizer—the heavy makeup really does dry out
a person’s skin—brush on some mascara, and throw my hair in a
ponytail. The jeans and plain fitted top I wore this morning will
be fine. I just need to grab a hoodie because of the night chill
here. I was surprised at first how most actors dress like bums on
location. It probably has something to do with the two hours of
makeup and dressing each morning. I know it does for me.

The thought reminds me of
the comment I made to Zach while he was in a coma about eating
cheeseburgers and ice cream and looking like a bum. I clench the
counter as tears well back up.
Everything’s okay. He won’t leave you for her.
Staring at my reflection, I keep the chant in my
head and will the tears away.

When I walk back into the room, Bret
stands. “You know, you look just as good without makeup.” He laughs
when my cheeks warm. “Hate to say it, but that’s not true for all
the actresses I work with. Sometimes it’s shocking what they look
like without some help.”

“
Come on,” I say, rushing
past him and the couch. “Since we’re early, I can do a little
window shopping.” Ugh. I so do not like compliments, especially
ones that put down other people.

Well, I do like compliments from one
person who is seriously on my shitlist right now. And though I
planned on looking for something for him and Emily, Emily’s the
only one I’m going to be shopping for tonight.

~10~

Zach

When Paige didn’t call around one—she
always calls on the dot—I checked my email and was stunned. For
almost three weeks neither of us missed a scheduled call. So now I
can’t help wondering if she’s playing games with me. She admitted
she was distressed about the Amanda thing. Would she purposely make
plans as an excuse not to call? I’d never expect such a thing from
Paige. Now I’m not sure.

“
Bro,” Drake says, peeking
his head through the door. A Santa hat jiggles on his
head.

Like I need to hear his shit right
now. “Will you learn how to fucking knock? Do I have to start
locking the door?”

“
Dude, your dad is
here.”

Startled at his words, I slowly move
the computer to my dresser. My father has never come to my
apartment. “Be right out,” I say slower than I moved the
computer.

Holding a cardboard box, my dad waits
in the middle of the apartment. Tall with gray streaked brown hair
my dad looks like an older version of me. The scent of Italian
spices waft around him. “Your mom sent over dinner.”

I raise an eyebrow.

“
Spaghetti and meatballs,”
he says, setting the box on the counter between the living room and
kitchen.