His pupils widened and then his lips curved into a devious smile. “Yes,” he said, “I would, actually. You never forget your first wedding night.”
I shook my head and swatted at his chest. “Let’s go, ex-husband.”
He held his arm out for me to take and we walked out onto the sidewalk. “Could I tempt you with a few boring errands?” Eli asked. “Grocery store, dry cleaning, et cetera.”
“You don’t have any prior commitments?” I asked. “Any dates to go on? As your ex-wife, I would hate to cockblock you.”
He snorted. “No dates today.”
I made a sad attempt at smiling. “And you’re okay to drive?”
“Yes. You monopolized the pitcher of mimosas.”
“For which I will not apologize!” As he closed the passenger door behind me, I asked, “So, there are other days when you do have dates?”
The time it took for him to walk around the front of the car felt like years. And then when he finally slid in behind the wheel, he buckled his seat belt in silence before saying, “I don’t really do casual dating.”
I didn’t find that surprising. Eli was the furthest thing from casual.
“I don’t really do dating,” I blurted.
He pulled out into the street, and after a beat, his voice dropped as he asked, “Because you were with Brody?”
I barked out a stiff laugh. “Oh my god, no.”
His lips pressed into a thin line. I was surprised to hear him bring up Brody to begin with. They had a fraught past, and I always felt like I was missing a few details.
“Why would it even matter?” I asked.
He turned his head to look out the window so that I couldn’t see the expression on his face when he said, “Because he never deserved you.”
Now it was my turn to look the other way, because what he’d just said brewed a war of emotions inside of me. Anger, validation, frustration. “I was his secret.” The words slipped out before I could catch them. “For years.” I didn’t know what Eli knew about us. If maybe he’d heard rumors from other acquaintances, but I doubted it. Brody was very good at keeping us a secret.
From the corner of my vision, I noticed the whites of his knuckles as he gripped the steering wheel.
“That’s not why I quit,” I said. “It was just—he was going to replace me with two younger part-time assistants. A cost-saving measure.”
“Good,” Eli said with a grunt.
“What?” Did he really just say that? “What the hell, Eli? I take it back. You haven’t changed at all. In fact, you’re still a colossal asshole.”
“Oh, call off your troops,” he said. “You never would have left him on your own and you know it. Vera, you’ve gotta know that you can do much better than being Brody’s assistant.”
I wanted to tell him about Brody’s plan for a production company and how I was constantly troubleshooting scripts with him and helping him strategize career moves and how I was so much more than an assistant. But it didn’t make a difference. None of those things amounted to career experience or opportunities.
“Yeah, because planning group activities for a ton of horny seniors is such an upgrade.”
“It is,” he said firmly. “Now at least your whole world won’t revolvearound Brody’s every whim and need. More time for—writing. You’re a writer, aren’t you?”
I shook my head instinctively. People who wanted to be writers were often insufferable, but people whotalkedabout being writers without ever actually doing it? The actual worst. Straight to jail. And me? I didn’t want to be a talker. Especially when I was already failing so hard.
Eli glanced over at me for a moment and then said, “You’re incredibly gifted at creating things for other people, Vera. But not everything you do has to be in service of other people.”
I didn’t say anything after that. He wasn’t wrong, but he had no idea how easy it was for him to say the right thing versus how incredibly difficult it was for me to do it.
EXT. BEACH TOWN STREET—EARLY EVENING
He’s walking backward, talking too much. They are both in work uniforms. She’s on her way from one job to another and is trying not to smile at Arlo.
