“So what are you looking for?” I ask, grateful for something normal to focus on.
“Something reliable. Maybe an SUV. Adult shit.” He glances over at me. “You want to talk about what happened back there?”
“Not particularly.”
“You're going to anyway, though, right?”
I let out a sigh. No point in keeping Avery a secret since obviously, we’re done. “Remember that woman from Chicago? The one I told you about?”
“The one who rocked your world and then disappeared?” He chuckles. “Yeah, I remember. You wouldn't shut up about her for two weeks.”
“It's Avery.”
Jake's head snaps toward me. “Your publicist Avery? The one who just—holy shit, man.”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, that explains a lot.” He's quiet for a moment. “So what happened?”
“We happened in Chicago, and then again on Sunday, but she doesn’t want anything more to do with me.”
Jake lets out a low whistle. “This is bad.”
“Thanks for the support.”
“I'm serious, Nova. You and relationships? You're like oil and water. And now you're catching feelings for someone you haveto work with? Someone who could derail your entire season if things go south?”
“I know it's complicated.”
“Complicated?” Jake laughs. “Dude, this is a fucking disaster waiting to happen. You've never been serious about anyone. Ever. What makes you think you can suddenly be relationship material?”
The words sting because they're true. “Maybe I want to try.”
“Wanting to try and actually doing it are two different things.” He turns in his seat to face me fully. “Look, I'm saying this as your friend. Let it go. This girl clearly has her shit together. She's smart enough to know that getting involved with you is career suicide. Don't drag her down because you're feeling something for the first time in your life.”
“So what, I just give up?”
“I'm saying maybe she's right to keep her distance. You've got a reputation for a reason, Nova. You don't do commitment. You don't do relationships.”
I pull into the dealership parking lot. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“I'm not trying to be a dick. I'm trying to be realistic.” Jake unbuckles his seatbelt. “You want my honest opinion? She's protecting herself. And given your track record with women, can you really blame her?”
No. I can't. That's the worst part.
“Come on,” Jake says, finally opening his door. “Let's go look at beautiful cars. Leave women alone.”
We spend the next two hours at the dealership, but my heart isn’t in it. I wander over to the sports car section, not really paying attention. Until I see it.
The Lamborghini Huracán sits under the showroom lights like a work of art. Verde Mantis green. Aggressive and impossible to ignore.
“Beautiful, isn't she?” The salesman appears beside me like he's been waiting for this moment. “V10 engine, 630 horsepower, zero to sixty in 2.9 seconds.”
“How much?” I ask.
When he tells me the price, I should walk away. I should remember that I'm supposed to be cleaning up my image, not making impulsive purchases that'll end up in tomorrow's gossip columns.
“I'll take it,” I hear myself say.
