“That was before.”
“Before what?”
She stared up at me and I knew I had a chance, right now. She was giving me that chance. To say something meaningful.Before I got to know you. Before I started to care.
Before I figured out that I couldn’t stand to lose you.
I didn’t say any of those things. I didn’t say anything. I just stood there, the words all clogged up in my throat.
She swallowed and nodded, seeming to file my silence away as further evidence of my stone-cold heart. “I can’t be famous for fucking a rock star,” she said, calmly, “and all those other guys too.”
“You didn’t fuck any of them, and I know that.”
“But no one else does. This is out there. Myfamilyis out there. And who knows what it will be next.”
“This hurt you. I know. But we can talk about it.”
“I can’t,” she said, much quieter, and she wouldn’t even look me in the eye as she said it. “I can’t be your fake girlfriend anymore. It’s just… kind of killing me.”
“I don’t want you to be my fake girlfriend,” I managed to say, even quieter. I wasn’t even sure she heard me. I wasn’t even sure what I was saying, but I didn’t fucking want her to go.
“I just need to figure out what the fuck I’m doing with my life and I can’t do it like this.” She turned and put on the shoes that were sitting beside the door.
I didn’t even want to ask her what “like this” meant. My heart was freefalling into my guts.
“Katie, I don’t care what the fuck you’re doing. Just do it here.” She looked over at me. “I can take care of you,” I added lamely. I knew it was lame as soon as it was out of my mouth.
She shook her head. “I don’t want to be taken care of, Jesse. I want something of my own. I can’t just be the girl who’s famous for being photographed making out with the famous guy. Don’t you get that?”
“Then don’t be that.”
“Fine.” She gathered up her little pink sweater and her purse.
Shit. Not what I meant.
“I’ll make arrangements with Jude,” she said. “Flynn can take me to the airport. Jude or Maggie or someone can help me get a flight. You don’t need to worry about it. I’ll be okay.”
“Fuck that.” I grabbed her hand to stop her as she reached for her suitcase. “What do you want? You want to draw? You want to bake? Whatever it is…”
But she was shaking her head again. Her blue-green eyes settled on me, and I knew I’d lost her. “I just want someone who cares about me,” she said, so quietly.
My chest felt tight; it was getting harder to breathe by the second. Did she really not get it?
“Icare about you.”
“No, Jesse,” she said. “You care about record sales.”
I let her hand fall from mine. And maybe it wasn’t fucking fair of me to be hurt by that, but those words cut me to the bone. “Is that what you think?”
“That was the deal, right? Six weeks to help your record sales and sell tickets? Well, the tour is sold out and you’ve said yourself that the album has outdone everyone’s expectations. Your six weeks are almost up anyway. I’ll pay you back what I owe you for the last week.” She picked up her suitcase and stood there, looking small and so fucking unsure. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “This isn’t your fault. I should never have agreed to this. I can’t just follow you around while you work and follow your dream—”
“Katie—”
“No. It’s not who I am. I’m not a groupie. I’m not your wife. I’m not even your girlfriend. This is just a job. And I quit.”
She headed for the door and I just stood there like an asshole. The asshole who’d gotten the bright idea to hire her in the first place. The asshole who’d promised her this was only a business deal.
And now a business deal was all I was ever going to get.
