“Oh no, did she hit you in the head with a pan after I left?” she shot back. “You poor thing.”
I didn’t turn around, but the smile was still on my face.
“See you later, little sis,” I said, knowing it’d get under her skin.
“Ewww… you take that back,” she called after me.
I laughed as I stepped out the door, closing it behind me.
23
CHRIS
The exposed brick walls and vintage brownish decor gave my office a timeless, sophisticated vibe. Or so I’d been told. It was a mix of old and new, with antique wooden furniture and modern details. Across the walls, bookshelves crammed with scripts, film memorabilia, and awards I barely looked at. A big window offered a view of the city, while leather-bound chairs and a sturdy, well-worn desk rounded out the space.
Sure, it was beautiful, but I hadzeroto do with it. Chloe had hired some big-name interior designer whose name I couldn’t even pronounce and oversaw the whole transformation. Honestly, I hadn’t even noticed it looked different from when I first got the apartment. Everyone else loved it, especially women. Like my fame wasn’t already enough of a flashing neon sign that screamed, “He’s rich!” The penthouse drove the point home, like an extra dose of aphrodisiac for the women I brought here.
I knew exactly what that said about me. Always choosing the superficial ones. But I’d learned over the years that superficial was easier. Safer. That’s all I could give, anyway.My mind was always somewhere else, comparing every woman to one who I thought existed only in my head.
Jules.
Even with all the investment, this place never felt special. Not this penthouse, not my house in Los Angeles—hell, not even my hometown itself felt like home anymore. Maybe the problem was that none of my real estate options came with a family to make it ahome.
I was searching through a drawer, my fingers brushing over old scripts and documents, when the door swung open, and Vanessa walked in.
“Your mom called. She told me to tell you to pick up the fucking phone,” she said, arms crossed.
“My mom thinks ‘damn’ is a bad word,” I replied without looking up from the paperwork. “I doubt she said to pick up thefuckingphone.”
“I thought the emphasis was needed,” she said, casually inspecting her nails. “Are you really going to ignore your mom? Aren’t you like a certified mama’s boy?” She wasn’t wrong, and she knew it. I’d been ignoring my mom’s calls for days, which wasn’t like me. At all. But I knew the second we spoke, I’d start talking about Jules.
And what the hell would I say? That I’d been dreaming about her for years? That I’d shown up at her house at three a.m. like a drunken idiot? Would I tell her about the kids? Because if I did, my mom would immediately start knitting Christmas sweaters for them and planning to be their step-grandma. That’s who she was. And I couldn’t open that door. Not yet. I needed to keep myself away from any conversations with my mom for now because I couldn’t keep anything from her. She was the first one I told when I lost my virginity, for crying out loud.
“What are you doing there?” She gestured toward the mess of paperwork I’d spread across the table.
I barely glanced up. “Do you remember that project you got me? The one that never got made? One of the first ones with that director you used to…” I paused, searching for the right words. “sleep with.”
Her face twisted in disgust. “Marvin.” She practically spat the name.
Oh yeah, she remembered.
That relationship was a shit show.
“Yeah, that guy. What happened there? Something with the writer, right?”
“I don’t…”
“Vanessa, please.” I looked up at her long enough for her to understand that it was important and that she should try harder. She got the message.
“I remember she pulled out at the last minute after all the work John Grauber had put into it. He was pissed,” she said, rolling her eyes.
John Grauber. I replayed the name in my mind, and it made my jaw tighten. He was a major jackass. I shook my head as the memory came trickling back.
“Yeah, yeah. That script was great, too. I was super excited about it. Do you remember the title?”
Vanessa raised an eyebrow, looking at me like I’d lost my mind.
“You want me to remember the title of a script from ten years ago?”
