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Chapter Fifteen
Mia
Later that night, I sat down on our old sofa that faced the window and overlooked the city. My phone was in my hand, trying to think of something to do other than call Terry. I had promised him, through Ally, that I would. But a part of me just wasn’t ready to talk to him. I felt so lost. Ever since Terry had come back into town, my life felt like complete chaos.
Terry hadn’t even been back in LA for a week, and somehow he had wormed his way into being a temporary employee at my company. I might have initiated this, but it had been Terry, so how could I not? And part of me liked talking to him again. Not about our issues or the things that we had done wrong. We needed to, that much was clear. But our relationship was so complicated that the thought of talking about it exhausted me.
I picked a thread on my leggings, wondering how long I could keep this up. How long would he allow me to do that? I had seen him through the crack of my office door, earlier; I could see that he looked as beaten up as I felt. But Terry was wearing his hurt on the outside for me to see. I was more adept at hiding emotions, better at it than Terry was. After all, I had a lot of practice in this area.
Sighing, I picked up my phone and clicked on his phone number. Better get this over with, I thought.
A familiar voice on the other line greeted me. “Hi, Mia.”
“Hey,” I replied, not really sure what to say next. I wanted this phone conversation, but I had no idea what to say to him.
“You sound sad. Everything all right?” Terry asked.
“Yes, I’m fine,” I replied, reaching for my glass of wine that sat beside me on the window ledge. I took a long swallow that I was sure was audible on the other end of the line.
“What are you drinking over there?” he asked. I could hear the clinking of ice cubes from his own glass.
“Just a glass of wine. Nothing too heavy. What’s in your glass tonight?” I asked, a wry smile playing on my lips.
“I’ll give you three guesses, but I’m sure you already know,” he said playfully. He was flirting with me. I wasn’t sure if it was the wine floating around in my stomach or the thrill of talking to him, but I liked it.
“Yes, I do,” I replied. I was hoping he didn’t want to talk about the incident in the conference room this morning. It had me particularly down. All day I had thoughts of Terry bedding women on the set of his shoots. Thankfully, Terry had avoided me for the rest of the day, so I didn’t have to see him. By the afternoon, I’m pretty sure my pain was written all over my face. Which is why I called Bryce and had an earlier dinner with him. It felt good to be with him. He desired me, I knew this, but he didn’t expect too much of me. I didn’t of him, either. Some might have said that our arrangement was tacky or immature, but it worked for us.
That was why it was eleven o’clock at night, and I was only now getting around to calling Terry. I’d arrived home, alone, from dinner with Bryce around nine. I had a glass of wine at dinner, but I still needed a little liquid courage to make the call. I’d already managed to have three glasses of wine. Then, I was able to hit send. He must have been drinking too, as he waited for me to call him.
Terry was the first to break the silence that had settled over the line. “I thought maybe you changed your mind about calling me, pretty lady.”
I giggled into the phone. “No such luck. I was out having dinner with a friend.”
“A male friend?” Terry asked. I could hear the jealousy in his voice, and it gave me a small thrill.
“As a matter of fact, yes, a male friend.”
“Where did you go?”
“I’m not sure that it’s any of your business.” I didn’t want to admit to him that we had stayed at Bryce’s. I knew I didn’t owe him anything, but I still felt funny admitting it to him.
“Mia.” His tone came out as a warning.
I sighed and finally relented. “We had dinner at his place.”
“It wasn’t just dinner, was it?” He sounded wounded, and I heard the ice clink again.
“Getting a refill?” I asked him, trying to change the track of the conversation.
“Yeah, I am,” he admitted. “You haven’t answered my question.”
“No, it wasn’t. But that’s all I’m going to say.” I took a long sip of wine and waited for him to reply.
“What’s his name?” Terry asked me. His question caught me off guard. I wasn’t sure I wanted to divulge that information. “Jesus, I just want to know. I’m sure I’ve seen the two of you together before. He always seems to be your standard date for events. I’ve wondered who he is.”
I sighed into the phone. “Really? You’ve always wondered this? You could easily look at Page Six and see it. Hell, sometimes you can even see our picture.”
He had already admitted that he’d Googled me. Did he steer clear of the articles that mentioned Bryce and me?
