“You reallyshouldstick around in LA,” the man who isnotElliot is saying. “There’s plenty of work.” He glances at me. “Yeah, we’re here for the meeting.”
“That may be, but I have responsibilities at home,” Elliot returns shortly. He has turned away, glaring around the lobby as though it displeases him on asoullevel.
The other guy raises his eyebrows at me. “You signing us in?”
I spit out enough syllables to explain where they need to go. The whole encounter lasts only seconds, but once they’re gone, I grab at the sign next to me to help keep me upright.
My legs are shaking. My wholebodyis shaking.
Elliot…
He didn’t recognize me.
He’s never seen me without my red silk mask, and he didn’t recognize my face. I’m sure of it.
He didn’t even acknowledge my presence. I should berelieved.
So why do I feel like crying?
“Ollie!” I turn to see Brandon coming up behind me, his face excited. “Chloe’s stuck in traffic. She can’t make the meeting opening, and she was supposed to be on service this morning for tea and coffee.”
NowI understand his excitement. Brandon has beendyingto be a server for this meeting, even though I flatly refused.
“Who else—” I begin.
“There’s no one,” he says smugly. “No one available right now, anyway. Except…me?” He flutters his eyelashes at me.
There’s no question of that. No freaking way. There’s only one solution, although it makes me want to throw up just thinking about it.
Most of the guests have arrived by now. I think I can trust Brandon enough to point people toward the conference room…I hope.
“Brandon, you’re going to stand here and direct any stragglers toward the conference room as they come in.”
“But what about—”
“I’llgo in,” I tell him. “I’ll help serve.”
* * *
I slide into the conference room as quietly as I can, and stand up against the back wall as the attendees mill around. There are about fifty people here, and I try my best not to follow Elliot around the room with my eyes, but it’s difficult. He’s so tall, and that shock of black hair makes him taller still, so that it’s all too easy to keep track of where he is.
Soon enough, a subtle bell rings over the loudspeakers, and the people find their seats, desks arranged in a large U-shape spreading down the room. At the bottom, the open end of the U, is the grand piano.
Oh, God.
I get it now.
This whole meeting is about the same project Elliot’s involved in, the music piecehe’sbeen stressing about. I almost laugh, it’s so absurd. Both of us worrying over the same thing, and neither of us knowing it. And now all that worry seems so inconsequential. Now that I’ve seen Elliot again, especially here, backgrounded by the source of all my stress over the past few weeks, I can only care abouthim.
I have to bite at my lip hard to keep my emotions from showing across my face. As far as I know, he still hasn’t recognized me, thanks to the mask I wore the whole time I was at Zee and Nik’s house.
The meeting begins, introductions are made, and I have to look away when Elliot stands and nods a greeting to the room at large.
“We’re going to be lucky enough to have the very talented Lord Arden give us a private concert today,” the first speaker says, standing again. “As you know, he’s been engaged to compose a theme song for the franchise. I think we can all agree that…”
I have to tune out, turn away to the coffee and tea pots waiting there at the side. But two of the other staff members in there with me have already begun making their way around each side of the U, pouring out beverages, and doing a better job than I would right now, given the way my hands are shaking. So I stay where I am, trying not to stare too long and too hard at Elliot, trying not to think back over every interaction we’ve ever had.
It’s impossible. My brain is totally filled up with him. Ten minutes of misery pass until I decide that doingsomethingis preferable to doingnothing, so I grab a water jug and start down the line of desks.
