“Yeah, yeah.” Billy’s gaze cut to me and he smirked. “Maybe if I were a little higher up on the payroll, right, Eleanor?”
I sucked in a breath, momentarily shocked into silence by Billy’s boldness, if not by the sentiment itself.
“Ignore him; he’s an asshole,” Griffin said with mirth.
That much was abundantly clear. Griffin’s hand trailed down my back, and perhaps he’d clocked how stiff my spine had gotten, how over this encounter I was, because he dropped a kiss on my shoulder and began wrapping things up.
From that point on I always made sure to ask who Griffin’s golf partner was before agreeing to come with him to the club.
The elevator jolts to a stop, jolting me out of the memory in turn, and the man in front of us scoots out, hoofing it down the hall like he can’t get away from Adam and me fast enough.
As the doors slide closed, Adam huffs behind me. “I’ve known Billy practically my whole life. It’s different.”
I cut Adam a look over my shoulder. “It’s literally not? He’s a sleazy guy. You think I’m a sleazy woman—”
“I never said that.”
“Okay, well.” I shake my head and face forward again, though I avoid his eye in the mirror this time. “How about your buddy JJ Sinclair?”
Another guy with a list of alleged misconduct the length of a CVS receipt. He’s produced more than one of Adam’s artists’ biggest hits.
“Fuck that guy,” Adam says sharply, drawing my gaze back to his reflection. “He’s been fired. And we are notbuddies.”
“I’ve seen pictures of you two looking tight at parties—”
“Are you friends with everyone you’ve ever been in proximity with at some fucking industry event?”
“So, you’ve been friendly enough with JJ to be photographed together at events, but I should instinctively know that you aren’t actually friends with him? And what, you get a pass for your connection to Billy because he’s always been nice to you?Meanwhile, I used to date someone I worked with, which is something loads of people do, but because he turned out to be a toxic piece of shit, I need to publicly atone for the rest of my life.”
The elevator doors open—we’ve reached the rooftop. I step out into the fresh air and Adam catches my elbow, stilling me. “That isn’t fair—”
“You’re right, it’s not.” My voice has started to shake—from anger, definitelynotthe urge to cry—and I take a deep breath. “I’m so sick of constantly trying to prove I’m more than the mistake I made when I was twenty-two.”
Adam’s jaw works, his hand on my arm just firm enoughto keep me in place. I know I could pull away if I really wanted to, but a bigger part of me wants to hear what he has to say for himself.
Unfortunately—or possibly in the first bit of good fortune I’ve had all day—he doesn’t get the chance.
“Oh my god, you guys came!”
We look over at the same time to find a petite woman wearing five-inch heels and purple lipstick rapidly approaching us with her arms wide open. She pulls both of us in for a fierce group hug, and Adam’s hand falls away from me in the process.
I hazard a guess as she pulls back: “Mae?”
She beams in response. “Seriously, I’msoglad you guys decided to come.” She lowers her voice as she pivots and loops an arm around each of ours, steering us into the courtyard, where a small stage is set up. “This whole show has been a bit of a nightmare. Only two other couples signed up.”
“Uh,” Adam says smoothly. “What show?”
Mae guides us forward a few more steps before releasing us with a cock of her head. “The newlywed game.”
Adam and I blink at each other, then turn back to Mae.
“The one I told you about last night?”
“Right,” I say. “Last night. That’s actually why we’re here. We need you to take down that picture of us you posted.”
“Oh.” She pulls her phone out of her back pocket. “Why? It’s so cute!”
“Yeah, no, it’s adorable. But… we haven’t really told anyone about getting married yet. And we want to keep it that way.”
