I wish I always saw this version of him that exists deep down between the smoldering stares and witty comments. Holden Strauss actually cares about something.
He would hate to see it documented.
Closing my laptop, I head to the kitchen to start my next plan—baking. My baked goods have always snuck into the good graces of people. My friend, Sarah, an assistant at a largecasting agency, is always keeping me up-to-date on the latest newsworthy casting sessions. Through the pipeline, I’ve heard talks of Mr. Eclaire set to direct the movieAgelessin January. A script that Holden was holding on to at his house the first time I visited, which he never got the chance to show me.
With the promise of my chocolate-chip cookies being delivered, Sarah forwarded me a brief on the movie.
A period piece set in the 1950s that follows a woman in her sixties determined to find a doctor who will make her young again after she falls in love with a man thirty years her junior. Desperate for more time and to live her romance freely, she tries everything to make their love last.
Everything about this screamed blockbuster. Biting my lower lip, I could see Holden’s future clearly. I was dangerously close to getting him everything he wanted since our first meeting. Just a few baked goods, a few more photo ops, the premiere and the podcast were all we needed to cast him where he needed to be.
I place the tray of cookies in the oven and pull out my phone, hovering over his name—
Charlotte:Wanna get food before our appointment? Let’s say Brightside Bistro at 3?
Holden:Need energy to hang out with me?
Charlotte:Never. I just need sustenance to live.
Holden:Sounds good.
Just when I think our text exchange is over—
Holden:Any excuse to see my girlfriend more.
Butterflies circle my stomach. Everything inside me buzzes—absolutely giddy from his text. An abrupt knock pulls me back to reality.
Wearing an idiotic grin on my face, I skip to the door. My apartment is filled with the sweet-smelling aroma of melted chocolate.
For the first time in days, I feel relief. Swinging the door open, I find myself toe-to-toe with his blonde hair and disheveled appearance—khakis and an untucked polo.
“Can I come in for a minute?”
Aidan steps forward and I don’t say a word, only opening the door a little wider to let him through. Everything about his face looks haggard, as if he were in the middle of a sleep study and shooting to stay up for a solid forty-eight hours.
He doesn’t wait for a few awkward greetings. No, he jumps right into it.
“I’ve been thinking about what happened a lot,” he says.
“Me too.” My whole body shivers.
“Why did you kiss him? I knew we were off, but I didn’t think we were that bad?”
Everything has culminated to this moment and there is no avoiding every thought I’ve had since the garden party.
“Take a seat, Aidan.” I gesture to my stained couch, covered in cushions and giant throw blankets.
“Aidan, I—” I reach my hand out to his jittery leg, which is uncontrollably shaking, to stop it in place as we sit down.
“Before you say anything, I wanted to give you this—”
A small navy-blue velvet box is placed in my hands.
“I’ve been thinking a lot since the garden party and I was mad at first. Really mad at you…” His eyes are glossy and his voice actually sounds choked up. An unfamiliar look on him.
“I’m willing to get past these past few months. I just need to know you still love me?”
“I loved you for a long time, Aidan,” I say, pushing the box back in the folds of his fingertips, wrapping his hand over it.
