“This Saturday. Some friends of mine are having a party. I said I’d go.”
Berlin. A party. She’d turned down Willa’s offer to fly her to LA for him, and now here he was, happily leaving her behind.
“Right,” Bo replied, trying not to show how utterly crestfallen she suddenly felt. “Will you be, uh, gone long?”
“Three nights.”
Bo said nothing, still trying to bury her emotions beneath a veneer of pleasant indifference. She was such a bad actress though. Honestly, would it have hurt her to take a class or two? She might have gotten more work if she had. Might have learned how to hide her feelings better. Might have been able not to blush in front of Max on a more regular basis.
“Raphaella will be there,” Max suddenly said, apropos of nothing, and now she stared at him.
“Oh.”
Oh? Is that all you can say?Bo thought desperately. This was ridiculous. The man she was sleeping with casually had all but told her he was seeing the clever, well-spokenandmusically inclined ex-girlfriend he’d been with for three years, and all shecould say was “oh” while looking at him with wide and hurt eyes?You need to recover this,her mind ordered.Keep to the arrangement. Don’t let him see how much this bothers you.
“Look, Bo, I was actually wondering if you—?”
“Actually, that’s good timing, as I was thinking about going away myself,” she abruptly blurted out, cutting Max off and lying through her teeth on her feet. Max stared at her.
“Were you now?”
“Yes. I, umm, thought I might go and visit Wills.”
The words came easily, but they weren’t really a lie. Shedidwant to see Willa. She wanted it more than she wanted most things these days. Bo could picture her even now: Willa with her perfect hair pulled into a careless knot that still looked editorial, her ridiculous designer sunglasses, the smile she wore when laughing with Bo over everything and nothing. She missed her.
“Wills?” Max, always analytical, looked momentarily concerned, and Bo realized with a start that he had no idea who Willa was. She’d talked about her friend, and how she and her friend had argued, but she hadn’t told Max any more than that.
“Yes. Wills, my friend. Willa. Willa Abbott.” Bo paused as a thought struck her. “You might have heard of her. She’s an actress.”
Max shrugged. “No. Can’t say that I have.”
“Oh, well, she was in this big movie years ago.Fields of Salt and Blood?”
An odd look crossed Max’s face. “Wait.Fields of Salt and Blood? I do know that movie.”
“Yeah. Everyone went to see it. It was an unexpected hit. Skyrocketed Willa’s career.”
“No, I never went to see it,” Max replied easily. “Actually, I was lead piano on the soundtrack. London Philharmonic.”
Of course.Of coursethat would be how Max knew of the biggest film of Willa’s career.
“And you still never went to see it?”
Max shrugged. “They invited me to the premiere, but I was already booked to play a series of concerts in Asia.”
“Right,” Bo said with a nod. “Well, Willa’s kind of a big deal. She’s also my best friend.”
“Wait,” Max said. “Is this the friend you argued with? The one you argued with about me?”
Bo nodded. “We haven’t spoken since that argument, and I need to fix it. Wills won’t answer my calls though.” She stood taller, doing her best to put on a bright front. “So, you going away this weekend works perfectly. You can go and see your friends . . . and, uh, Raphaella.” Bo swallowed down a rising mouthful of bile. “And I’ll go and see Wills.”
Max looked at her for a long moment, as though searching for something in her eyes. Bo couldn’t help herself from turning pink under such intense scrutiny, hoping against hope that the afternoon sun disguised the new tinge to her cheeks. Max shoved his hands into the pockets of his chinos — and, oh God, why did he have to be wearing the clothing that Bo found the sexiest on him? — and his expression hardened.
“So, you don’t mind my seeing Raphaella then?” he asked bluntly, and Bo put on another bright but entirely false smile.
“Why would I mind? You and I are just, you know . . .” she waved her hand awkwardly. “We have an arrangement, right?”
“Right.” Max nodded, and his tone was curt. He sounded like the Max of old, the Max of before, the Max who’d been a stranger to her. He didn’t sound likeherMax, and then Bo did a double-take, because when had she started thinking of Max as hers? Exactly when had this sense of belonging to him and him belonging to her begun?
