“Look on the bright side.” Con blows smoke circles into the air. “I think she definitely got the message this time.”
Ava quits the next day.
“She can’t still be mad at me,” I grumble to Jay a week later when Ash is still giving me the cold shoulder.
“She can and she is.” He grabs a cold beer from the bucket on the table in the VIP section of the club we’re in. It’s become a regular Saturday night spot, and I usually end up going home with some bird.
“Ava leaving without working her notice created a mess,” he adds. “Ash is still putting out fires.”
“I thought she already had that other girl lined up as our new publicist, and she should probably be thanking me for forcing the issue.” Ava worked for the label, and she served their interests first and foremost. Ava quitting gives us an opportunity to hire our own publicist, someone who will further our best interests.
“Jesus. Don’t fucking say that to her. She’s liable to throw you off the roof, and yes,Dixiehas signed her contract, but she can’t start for two weeks.”
“Ash will smooth everything over; she always does.”
“She’s the best.” The most nauseating, gooey, lovestruck expression materializes on his face.
I elbow him in the ribs. “Pussy.”
Ro and I have been winding him up a lot lately over when he’s going to propose. We all know it’s coming. Those two are solid. They’ll never break up. It’s still hard sometimes being around them. It’s a reminder of what I once had. What I could’ve had if things had worked out differently.
“Looking a little green there, lad.” Jay prods my cheek, laughing when I swat his hand away.
“Move over,” Ash says, throwing me a daggered look before shimmying into the booth beside her boyfriend.
“You look gorgeous tonight, sis.” I lean in and kiss her cheek. It’s no word of a lie. During the working week, Ash dresses in power suits befitting of her authority. Weekends or when we attend industry events are her only opportunity to ditch the business attire and dress up. She looks a million dollars tonight in a short blue dress with skyscraper silver heels which elevate her tiny stature.
“Lick-arsing will totally work.” Her tiny fist curls around my shirt before I can straighten up. “Apology accepted but keep your cock in your trousers with this new one, or next time, you can handle the shit show left behind.” Ash had interviewed a few guys for the role, and I know she’d have preferred to hire a man, but Dixie was the only one we felt would gel with us, so she got the job.
“I’m done with blondes anyway.”
I have a rule to only fuck blondes or redheads to keep as far away from memories of Vivien as possible, but it’s not doing it for me anymore. Last night, I went home with a blonde I picked up at a local bar but ditched her halfway through the taxi ride when her mouth failed to raise even a modicum of interest from my cock. Watching her blonde head bob up and down was an instant erection killer. I can’t do it anymore. Pretend like I’m not wishing they weren’t a certain brunette, so I’m going to mix it up and see if fucking brunettes from now on will be the cure I so desperately seek.
But it doesn’t help either. It only makes things worse.
A few hours later, I’m back in some up-and-coming actress’s apartment, plowing into her from behind, imagining she’s Viv as I fist her long dark-brown hair, pulling on the strands just the way my love liked. But the sounds coming from her mouth are all wrong as is the way she holds herself upright on all fours, not moving to meet my thrusts or writhing underneath me as I fuck her. She’s going through the motions, just like me, and though I’m buried deep in the woman, in an act that should be personal and intimate, it’s the complete opposite.
I’ve never felt more alone.
My hard-on dies an immediate death, and I pull out, disgusted with myself, with her, with life.
“What’s wrong?” Her pout is instantaneous as she glances over her shoulder.
“We both know this isn’t cutting it.” I pull my boxers and jeans up my legs and tuck my soft cock away.
Yanking her dress down to cover herself, she moves up the bed, pulling her knees into her chest. Her lower lip wobbles, and I take pity on her. “It’s all on me. My head is elsewhere tonight.” I kiss her quickly, feeling nothing. “Good luck with your show. I’ll look out for it.” Only because Vivien is one of the writers, and yeah, maybe I flirted outrageously with her when I discovered that fact. As if Vivien would even care if some actress on her show fucked me. She clearly doesn’t care. She ditched me years ago without ever looking back.
Which is what makes this all the more frustrating.
I don’t go home, getting the taxi to drop me at Ash and Jay’s place. I can’t be alone right now even if both of them are probably asleep. I let myself in, surprised the alarm isn’t on like usual at night. But it makes sense when I find Jay still up in the kitchen.
“Wasn’t expecting to find you up,” I say, removing my jacket and hanging it on the back of one of the chairs. A bottle of JD isresting on the table beside him, and his hands are curled around a half-empty glass. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, everything is perfect.” The biggest smile crests over his face.
“What’s going on?”
“Ash is pregnant.”
