“I invited you,” he said, shocked at how much effort it took to keep his voice even. “You’rethe one who said no. You could’ve come.”
She laughed up at him. “I was never going to come to LA! I’m not a city girl—I’m a Claw Haven girl. This is where I belong! And I’m super fucking happy! I wake up every day ecstatic that I didn’t follow you to that vapid, empty,pointlesscity!”
“I’m happy it worked out for you,” he said, clenching his teeth to keep the smile up. He should’ve realized she would test him. Nobody pushed his buttons like Emma, even after all these years. Fortunately, he was a good actor. Maybe it had been so long that even the legendary Emma Curt wouldn’t be able to see through him.
Emma made a frustrated noise. “Ugh! I can’t look at you, you’re too annoying.Don’tscrew up my café.”
She stalked off down the street, shoppers parting as they noticed her fiery gaze.
He watched her go, marveling at the least successful interaction he’d had in the last decade. He used to watch her in class and wonder how such a small human could contain so much rage. What were the odds that she still did the same things to de-stress?
He cupped his hands over his mouth. “Go easy on the Cool Whip!”
She whirled on him, glaring. He allowed himself a smug grin. He so rarely got the last word with her. Then she opened her mouth, and he remembered there was a reason he didn’t.
“Your sunglasses are stupid,” she called back. “You look like a spoiled, out-of-touch jackass!”
Then she turned around and kept walking. Arthur let her, hoping none of the people looking his way were interested in giving a news outlet a quote. He’d worked hard on his public image. Getting into a screaming match with an old flame would be his first speck of dirt on an otherwise spotless record.
* * *
He ducked into the café, shaking snow off his wings.
Rusty rushed up, brushing the last flakes out of his mane. “Hey! Where’d you go?”
“Nowhere important.” Arthur was annoyed to see his tail flicking, narrowly avoiding hitting a PA who was carrying a tray of coffee. He stilled it, smiling wider. “Are we ready?”
“Yeah, just setting up—”
Arthur cut him off with a gasp. There was a familiar face over near the far tables. A minotaur was sprucing up a vase of flowers and looking decidedly uncomfortable.
“Joshua Haberdash,” he crowed, swerving around Rusty toward the minotaur, who jumped at the sound of his name. He looked surprised to see Arthur heading his way, his snout twisting up in a baffled smile as Arthur clapped him on the shoulder.
“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” he said, trying to ignore the uncomfortable feelings Emma had given him. Joshua was always good for a mood boost.
“Look at you!” he continued. “You finally hit your growth spurt!”
“Ha. Yeah, sure.” Joshua gave him another nervous grin. “Growth spurt” was a joke; Joshua had always been huge, though he tried to hide it by hunching into his shoulders. He still had that annoying patch of fur hanging over his eyes, constantly getting brushed back behind his horns.
“You look great,” Arthur said, relieved for an easy interaction. Joshua was always easy to talk to, happy to let Arthur chatter on while he nodded. Very agreeable guy. He even let Arthur copy his homework a few times.
“Thanks,” Joshua said. “So do you, man. Um, I think your director wants to talk to you.”
“He always does,” Arthur said. He gave Joshua another shoulder clap. “Good to see you, bud! Hope you enjoy your little glimpse into the movie world.”
“It’s pretty fun,” Joshua said. “I’m just the flower guy.”
“And you’re doing great.” Arthur shot him a thumbs-up and headed back over to Rusty, who was standing there with his hands on his hips, watching Arthur with that look that meant he wanted everything to happen much faster. But he still pulled up a tense smile, giving Arthur a questioning thumbs-up.
“You good?”
“I’m fantastic.” Arthur shook his mane out, trying to hold on to the brief boost that seeing Joshua had given him. He hadn’t expected to be happy to see anybody in town, so Joshua had been a nice surprise. But the uncomfortable feelings were creeping back, unwanted and unearned. She couldn’t get mad at him for something that had happened when they wereteenagers. They were over thirty now. It was ancient history.
Rusty snapped his fingers in front of his muzzle. “Hey! Movie star!”
“I’m here,” Arthur said. “Where do you want me?”
Rusty gave him a dubious look, but pointed at his mark—right in front of Jennifer Hertzman, who waved enthusiastically.
