The biggest lie I told today.
Bruno heard every syllable. His jaw flexed once, then he looked away.
"Great, we got it," the producer called. Someone yanked off my mic. Fluorescent lights, burnt coffee smell, my pulse drumming in my temples.
Bruno came forward and handed me an open bottle of water. I snatched it and took a large sip.
"You were very convincing. Anyone would think you were love's biggest champion," he said.
"Occupational hazard," I said, then turned toward the exit. His footsteps followed, echoing a beat behind mine. We couldn't even manage to walk in sync.
Finally, all the interviews were done, but instead of a meal and drink at the bar, and me checking out what California had to offer, Greenslate demanded my appearance.
"If you need my help at dinner, don't be afraid to ask," Bruno suggested, hand hovering near my back, not quite touching.
While looking him in the eye, I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "I can handle my business."
The city lights flickered against the windows while our driver moved quickly to open the door. I slid into the cool leather interior. Bruno followed, shutting the door behind him. The car moved away from the studio without hesitation. Silence tookover, heavy and awkward. We were headed for the hotel, early enough that I might grab a drink before things started.
The driver merged onto Sunset. Reflections from various shop windows slid across Bruno's face, softening the line of his jaw.
"I'm really impressed with how you handled the interviews, especially the last one," he said in a low, careful voice.
"It was a fluff piece," I answered. "Not exactly Pulitzer work."
"Still," he tried again, "I know how much is riding on this launch. You made it look effortless."
I watched sunlight slide over the tinted glass and pretended to adjust my blazer. "I don't need a pat on the back from you. I just did what anyone else would."
Silence.
He let out a small exhale. "I don't want us keeping score tonight. Can we get through dinner as a team?"
"Teams trust each other," I said, then glared at him. "I will never be foolish enough to trust you again."
Bruno nodded once, fingers tapping his thigh in a slow, restless rhythm. The car filled with traffic noise and every topic we knew better than to discuss.
Outside, the marquee appeared, shining like a verdict.
He opened the door, stepped out, and sighed. "I never lied, Alex. It was a one-time mistake. She was on my dick before I had a chance…"
Stepping out of the car as Bruno held the door, I answered. "Poor Bruno. Did five-four Monique hold you at gunpoint, unzip your pants, force you to sit, manage to keep your legs open while deep-throating your cock? Did you file a police report about your traumatic experience?"
Bruno shook his head and would not meet my eyes as we walked into the venue. "Forget it. Let us just finish the dinner."
But I was heated. If he wanted to talk, then let's do it. "Men. You're all the same."
We stayed quiet as the hostess walked us to our table. No need for everyone to overhear my ex-boyfriend and me arguing. After we sat, we ordered a round of drinks. The higher-ups would take their time getting there.
"Alex, you have daddy issues," Bruno said from across the table. A second later, he lowered his head and shut his eyes, already regretting the words.
One mention of my padre cracked my armor. I hated him even more for knowing exactly where to aim.
"Oh really?"
Defiantly, Bruno locked eyes with me and nodded. "Yes, and for the record, just because I made one mistake doesn't mean I'm anything like your father."
My jaw tightened. "You are exactly like him."
