I wanted to stand and watch as he left the building for the last time, really revel in the gloating, but Murray wouldn’t let me. ‘Tony doesn’t have anything left to lose now. I don’t want him anywhere near you.’
We watched from the window instead. Watching him go – and knowing we’d caused it – was absolutely, utterly, completely delicious.
A few days later, Fucking Greg formally offered us the role of co-showrunners for the Romeo and Juliet franchise. ‘I offered it to this guy first—’ he said to me, jerking his thumb at Murray, ‘—but he said he wouldn’t do it without you. Even took a pay cut so we could afford it.’
Caught perfectly between wanting to askGreg, why wouldyou tell me that?andMurray, why didn’t you tell me that?, all I could do was smile politely.
I wheeled on Murray the second we were a safe distance away from Greg’s office, but he held up a warning finger. ‘No,’ he said. ‘Everything we’ve ever done, we’ve done together. All the success we’ve earned, we’ve earned together. So don’t you dare—’
I threw my arms around him.
‘—fucking thank me,’ he said, voice muffled in my hair. ‘I could never do this without you.’
We took each other out to dinner to celebrate, and stumbled into the bar afterwards. ‘Champagne!’ I said expansively, leaning over the bar to kiss Jeff. ‘Showrunners deserve champagne!’
‘All right,’ Jeff said. ‘Give me a minute. I’ve got customers.’
Murray nudged me. ‘He okay?’
I looked at Jeff. The lines of his shoulders were tight as he served some people on the other side of the bar. ‘Maybe he’s had a rough night. It seems busy.’
‘How about I go find us a table, and you bring the drinks over when you’re ready?’
I nodded. Murray disappeared.
It took Jeff almost ten minutes to make his way back to me. ‘Champagne,’ he said. ‘Any preferences?’
‘Do you have the one we serve on the show?’ Jeff’s favourite hobby, when we watched the episodes, was trying to ID the alcohol.
He bent down to pull a bottle out of the wine fridge. ‘It’s cheap piss,’ he warned.
‘That’s all right. We started our careers drinking cheap piss in this bar. What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Jeff, I know you. What’s wrong?’
He braced his hands on the bar, the same way he had on the first night we met, and looked at me.
‘I don’t like his influence on you.’ He nodded over at Murray.
I stared.
‘Look at what you’re celebrating, Lily.’
‘A huge promotion.’
‘Which you got by knifing someone.’
‘He deserved it.’
‘What about all those women? The ones who went on the show with their friends and their sisters and their cousins and whose relationships you systematically destroyed? Did they deserve it?’
‘No one forced them to come on the show,’ I said tightly. ‘They were there of their own free will. And if a boring white man and a little manipulation could destroy their relationships, they weren’t very strong to begin with.’
‘He encourages you.’ Jeff jerked his head towards Murray again. ‘I know he’s your best friend, but he’s not good for you. He brings out your worst impulses. He drags you down into the dirt with him.’
‘Excuse me?!’
