“I’ll… catch you later, Hope.” Lyric gave her a wavering smile before she slipped from the chair and out the door with Mrs. van Driel.
“Shut the door, Lyric,” Angelica called, but she didn’t take her baby blue eyes off Hope.
If Hope was a better person, she would have swallowed in fear. No one stood up to Angelica Shields like she was doing right now, but damn it, she deserved some sort of answer. She dropped her purse on the conference table and crossed her arms, glaring in the same way she’d come in. She wasn’t going to back down.
“What do you need, Hope?” Angelica turned around and sauntered back toward her desk, as if the conversation was already over.
Like hell it was.
“What do I need?” Hope’s voice squeaked. “I need you not to be so avoidant and actually answer me.” Hope stayed right where she was, letting her anger seep into her veins and take control of her muscles. She was going to ride this out as much as she could. “You can’t ignore the fact that we need to sit down and have an actual conversation about filming this season. Not awhat kind of scenes are we going to shootconversation, Ange, but a conversation about us.”
“There isn’t an us!” Angelica’s voice ripped through the room.
It put a crack in Hope’s anger, one that she didn’t want to be there. But when she looked at Angelica now, she saw what she’d managed to avoid for so long.
Angelica was hurting.
Nothing about the way they’d ended the last season had been good, and through the entire break, they hadn’t managed to get in the same room to talk about what it all meant, to find closure for themselves. That was what Hope wanted to do now, but Angelica seemed so opposed to even the idea of it.
But why?
She just wanted a smooth start to filming for one damn season. Was that too much to ask? Especially if this was going to be their last season?
“There’s no reason for you to be here, Hope. There’s no reason for us to have a conversation about something that doesn’t exist. You made that very clear to me.” Angelica pulled over her iPad and stared at the screen, another tactic to end the conversation.
Hope gnawed on her lower lip, assessing the situation as best she could. But she wasn’t Angelica. She was hotheaded, and she damn well knew what she wanted. At least right now, which was to resolve whatever chasm was between them so they could work together. Maybe even get renewed for another two or three seasons in the process.
Stalking forward, Hope moved directly in front of Angelica. She pressed her hand down onto her desk and leaned over it, making it impossible for Angelica to ignore her presence.
“Even if we’re not together going forward, we need to have a conversation about what that’s going to look like on set.” Hopeswallowed the sudden lump in her throat. The way Angelica’s hair fell across her cheek, hiding half her face from view, was stunning, as if she truly was the one with all the power in the room right now. “Come on, Ange. You’re better than this.”
“Better than this?” Angelica dropped the stylus onto the desktop and lifted her chin to look Hope directly in the eye. She scoffed. “So now you’re stooping to narcissistic tactics to get me to do what you want? You know who’s better than this, Hope? You are. I won’t allow those tactics into my life again. And not once have I ever seen you use them before. If you plan on continuing that, then get out. Now.”
Hope straightened her spine, her lips parting in surprise. Cold rushed through her, curling its tight grip around her limbs and body and constricting everything like a snake. She hated the fact that Angelica had a point, one she definitely needed to listen to. “You’re right. That one was uncalled for.”
“Thank you,” Angelica said, her words unstrained for the first time since Hope had entered her office today. “Now, I’ll say it one more time since you didn’t deem to listen when I said it the first time. There’s nothing for us to discuss.”
“If you think that, then you’ve got your head buried in the sand deeper than I thought.” Hope crossed her arms tightly and rocked back on her heels before leaning forward. “We can’t go into this season without talking, otherwise it’ll be an absolute, utter disaster. And you know it.”
Angelica’s lips pressed into a thin line, and she flicked her gaze from Hope down to her iPad. “No, there’s nothing for us to talk about.”
“Who are you lying to, Ange? Me or yourself?” Hope held her breath. Was this the right way to approach the situation? Or was there a better path? They hadn’t really figured out how to talk without these intense moments, had they?
“There’s nothing for us to talk about,” Angelica repeated.
“Gah!” Hope yelled, smacking her palm down onto the top of the desk before she stood up and stepped back to try and collect herself. She hadn’t wanted to get so mad that the two of them couldn’t actually talk. That would defeat the entire purpose, wouldn’t it? “Why won’t you just talk to me, Ange? That’s all I’m asking.”
Angelica breathed heavily and then sighed out her frustration.
Hope couldn’t stop staring at her. What had happened to them? Yes, they’d ended their relationship. Yes, Hope had made a choice she hadn’t wanted to—one she deeply regretted. Not only because she’d been forced to choose but how she’d handled it all. But beyond that, they’d always managed to find a way to work together. And now Angelica was just flat out refusing to do that?
Angelica leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs. Her shirt pulled tight against her breasts, straining the buttons. Hope’s gaze dropped to the fabric, and she dragged her gaze up Angelica’s body to her lips, lingering on them, on the imperfections that made them so damn perfect, on Angelica’s tightened jaw muscles, on her flared nostrils, on her narrowed gaze.
“Talk, Hope. Since you’re insisting.”
“I…” Hope halted, now unsure of what to even say. She’d thought this would be a conversation, not a lecture. She thought she’d have more interaction than Angelica simply sitting there and taking everything in.
“Well?” Angelica said, a little more force to her voice this time around.
