Pick u up @ 7
Ethan’s reticence to text made sense: he wasn’t great at it. They had exchanged exactly three messages total, planning their next outing, and he was prone to replacing “you” with “u” in the manner that Gen X–adjacent men were inexplicably fond of. For some reason, the less tech-savvy a guy was, the more likely he was to text like a mid-2000s “Is Your Child Secretly Sexting?” propaganda pamphlet meant to frighten parents.
As was becoming a disturbingly frequent habit, Grey agonizedover her outfit. Thankfully, Kamilah was in an accessible enough time zone with reliable enough Wi-Fi for an emergency FaceTime. Grey had filled her in as much as she could, dodging her more probing questions. She could tell Kamilah wasn’t mollified by her answers, but she took advantage of the physical distance between them to keep the conversation vague (“What? Sorry, you froze, I didn’t get that.”). As much as possible, she volleyed questions back at Kamilah, who, as always, was chock-full of adventures to update her on.
They ultimately agreed that it was best to keep it simple: slinky black minidress, delicate gold jewelry, heeled ankle boots, her hair loose and wild. She took her time applying her makeup, using a slightly heavier hand than normal. Her usual policy was to avoid lipstick in situations where there would be even the slightest chance of canoodling.Guess I don’t have to worry about that,she thought ruefully, painting her lips a vampy shade of crimson.
Their call ended abruptly when Kamilah got pulled away to deal with a malfunctioning projector emergency. As soon as she shut her laptop, her phone buzzed. She couldn’t stop her stomach from jumping a little when she saw Ethan’s name, with that damn heart eyes emoji next to it. She swiped it open, revealing a single word, no punctuation:
Here
At least he got straight to the point. She grabbed her clutch and headed out the door.
Outside, a black Bentley idled in front of her house. Grey pulled open the passenger door and started to climb in next to…a complete stranger. She froze.
“Um, sorry, I think—”
She heard Ethan chuckle from the back seat. The driver smiled.
“You must be Grey. I’m Ozzy. Not that I wouldn’t appreciate the company, but you might be more comfortable in the back seat.”
Grey tried to hide how flustered she was. “Right. Thanks. Nice to meet you. I’ll just…”
She closed the door and opened the door to the back seat, thankful that the darkness camouflaged her glowing cheeks. As she slid in beside Ethan, she caught him staring at her, his mouth slightly open. She felt self-conscious all of a sudden. Was her lipstick smudged?
“What?”
He closed his mouth and swallowed. “Nothing. You look…you look nice.”
“Thanks. I feel like a rube.”
He laughed. “I guess the chivalrous thing to do would have been to get out and open the door for you. Avoid any confusion.”
She pretended to reach for the door handle again, even though the car had already started moving.
“Should we do another take? Back to one?”
He grinned. “We can just fix it in post.”
“A true professional.”
Grey looked out the window as Ozzy merged them onto the 101 toward West Hollywood. A slightly awkward silence settled between them. They weren’t in public yet, but they still had an audience. They needed to watch what they said.
Which, for now, wasn’t a problem, since they said nothing.
—
OZZY PULLED THEcar up outside Carlo’s, an old-school red sauce joint and noted celebrity haunt. The restaurant was constantlyswarmed with paparazzi; Audrey probably hadn’t even needed to call anyone in advance.
Ethan snuck a look at Grey, who was staring out the tinted window at the huddle of photographers with trepidation. He felt uneasy, too. What had seemed abstract last week, staring down at the contracts at Audrey’s office, was now starting to take real shape. He was about to formally reappear in public for the first time in years. He’d briefed the manager, an old friend, that they’d be there, and reserved the private dining room. All they needed to do was run the gauntlet of paps as they walked into the restaurant and then they would be home free.
He leaned over and took her hand. She looked back at him, eyes wide.
“You ready?”
She nodded.
“Okay. Wait here.”
