“Really?”
“I’ll leave you completely alone,” she purrs. “Okay?”
Relief pours out of me. I can do a quick round. I promote the film, a few publicity shots at a charity, and I get my privacy.
It’s exactly what I need. “Agreed.”
“Oh, and one more thing…”
God, how many “one more things” can there be?
“It would help if you didn’t show up alone, Ava.”
“Huh?”
“At tonight’s event. You need someone on your arm. Just for optics. It doesn’t have to be romantic. Just a presence. A whisper that you’ve moved on.”
Moved on? Is she insane? It’s been one day.
And while I was picking out floral arrangements and scouting venues for a spring wedding, all at Myra’s insistence, Pierce Maddox was busy screwing his way through Hollywood’s A-list audition line.
On this point, there is no negotiation.
“No date, Myra. No optics. No arm candy. I’ll be at a charity, not the Met Gala. The last thing I need is a rent-a-stud or a fuck buddy.”
That’s when the little boy in the seat in front of me starts bouncing, twisting around to stare at me through a plastic football helmet.
I swallow hard. “I mean fudge buddy.”
“Fudge buddy?” Myra chuckles. “Is there a career killer within earshot?”
I roll my eyes at her preferred nickname for children. “Yes,” I say, smiling sweetly.
The little boy keeps bouncing, blissfully unaware. Either he didn’t hear me through the helmet, or the universe mercifully erased my words from his brain.
If only the universe would extend the same mercy to the paparazzi.
“I’ve got a rock-hard A-lister,” she carries on. “And yes, I mean that both ways.”
My voice lowers. “I don’t care if he’s got David Beckham’s ass and Superman’s thrust. It’s not happening.”
“But—”
“It’s. A. No.”
The pilot’s voice crackles over the intercom. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your patience. We’ve been cleared for departure.”
Finally.
“I gotta go, Myra.”
“Call me when you land.”
“Absolutely.”
And by absolutely, I mean when I feel like it.
The call disconnects, and I watch as the kid launches into a full-on battle with his mother over sitting down and buckling up. He stabs a foam sword into his dad’s ear and drives his mother straight to requesting her second mini bottle of wine.
