“Yup. Jake was telling us all about how you work in a restaurant kitchen.” The corners of Madison’s mouth turn up in amusement as she swivels her head toward me.
I know exactly where she’s going with this; her sweet, breathy voice barely disguises her condescending tone. But there’s not a chance in hell I’m going to give her the satisfaction of knowing she’s gotten to me.
“That’s right,” I say, plastering on an equally fake smile.
“How interesting. Now, what do you do on, like, a daily basis? Does everyone take turns washing dishes or is that, like, a special position?”
“Lexi is an unbelievable chef,” Jake cuts in before I can abandon all prior thoughts of playing it cool and instead drag Madison into the kitchen by her hair. Shoving her face into a sink full of dirty dishes would teach her exactly how well I can handle a wash.
“She’s incredibly talented,” he continues. “And she’s going toown her own restaurant one day. I just hope I’ll be lucky enough to score an invite to the opening.” He winks at me and my stomach flip-flops.
“Ooooh. So, you’re, like, the head chef?”
“Um, no. I’ve only been working at the restaurant for a year now. It takes a while to work your way up to those positions.” I open my mouth to elaborate, then shut it again. What’s the point of explaining my career trajectory to these people? No one at this table besides Jake gives a shit what I do.
“Wow, that’s, like…sobrave. I don’t know if I have the patience to wait that long for success.” Madison turns to Jake. “We aren’t behind-the-scenes people, are we, Jake? We get fulfillment from audiences cheering us on, screaming our name. That’s why the two of us get along so well.” She places one hand over Jake’s and peers up at him through her fake lashes. My own hands curl into fists in my lap.
“I think this performance is going to be huge for both of your careers,” Vinny says. He claps a hand on Jake’s shoulder and looks back and forth between him and Madison. It feels like he’s making a point to ignore me. A hollow feeling swells in my stomach as I consider the fact that he’d probably prefer it if I weren’t here at all.
Jake’s face breaks into a grin. “Yeah, it’s going to be great.”
I’m not sure what irritates me more; the fact that Jake and Madison are going to be onstage together, or the fact that Jake seems genuinely excited about it. The way she’s acting like she and Jake are some dynamic duo is getting more insufferable by the minute. Part of me wants to grab Jake by the collar, kiss him in front of everyone, and make it clear exactly who he belongs to.
I take a deep breath then release it slowly, carefully arranging my face into an expression of nonchalance. Reaching into my bag, I click on my phone to check the time. This can’t go on too much longer, right?
My screen illuminates and a new text from Ali pops open.
Tried to find the vid of someone throwing a vibrator at Jake and found THIS!!!
There’s a link attached, and when I click on it, it opens to an Etsy listing for a vibrator with Jake’s face on it.
Before I can respond another three dots appear.
FWIW it has 10 vibration speeds and is waterproof. Wonder if it’s better than my Pete Davidson one??
Shaking my head, I shove the phone back into my purse without responding. The conversation at the table has turned to industry talk. Madison is gazing at Jake with blatant adoration as he postulates about artists’ rights to retain ownership of their masters.
Once again, it’s hard not to notice how right they look together. Two gorgeous celebrities with similar goals and career paths. They inhabit the same world and know all the same people. They make more sense as a couple than Jake and I ever would.
At the end of the day, what do he and I really have in common? His star is just going to continue to rise, and the more famous he gets, the less it will make sense to keep hanging around someone like me. Even if he wants to stay together, hanging around New York instead of touring would only stunt his career. I can’t help but feel like I’d be holding him back.
When we arrive at Madison Square Garden thirty minutes later, Jake’s backing band is already onstage. He’s scheduled to perform “Blueberry” before Madison joins him onstage for their cover of Ed Sheeran’s “Perfect,” so when he heads up the stairs to warm up with them, I follow Vinny and Madison to the pit. Once we’ve found a spot in front of the stage, Vinny’s phone rings, and he wanders off to take the call just as an assistant wearing a black jumpsuit and a headset appears in front of us.
“Hi! Can I get you anything?” she asks, her voice wobbly. Her eyes are wide as she stares at Madison. “Coffee? A bagel?”
“A bagel? You’rehilarious!” Madison emits a high-pitched giggle as the assistant’s face goes crimson. “I’ll take hot water with lemon,” she instructs, before tossing the poor girl the fakest smile I’ve ever seen. “Thanks, sweetie!”
“And, uh, I’ll take a coffee, please,” I say, but the assistant seems not to hear me. Her eyes are fixated on her shoes as she scampers off.
“Oh my god.” Madison shakes her head incredulously. “Can you believe there are still people who eatcarbs?”
I shift uncomfortably, unsure how to reply, when I’m mercifully saved by the sound of Jake’s breathy voice through the microphone. Glancing up, I can’t help but smile as our eyes meet and he winks at me before breaking into the opening lyrics of “Blueberry.”
“You guys are super cute together. I can see why he likes you.”
The overbearing scent of Madison’s floral perfume invades my nostrils as she sidles up beside me.
“Thanks,” I reply, my eyes still fixed on Jake. He runs a hand through his hair, his eyes fluttering shut over a breathy note. His voice is my favorite sound in the entire world. It takes everything in me not to sigh like a smitten schoolgirl.
