Page 7 of One Weekend in Los Angeles

But Ollie perked up. “What if what?”

“Never mind. She doesn’t need to be playing games right now.”

“No, she doesn’t, but at the same time, the concert tonight was a big help in reclaiming her confidence.”

I contemplated for a moment before deciding to float my idea. “I was thinking she should join me at the wedding next Friday. It would kill two birds with one stone by showing both our exes we can do much better than them.”

Ollie’s brows went sky high. “You’d make people believe you’re dating?”

“Let them assume what they want.” They did that with every woman I so much as talked to. Tabloids didn’t care about the truth, just what sold.

Ollie wavered. “You’re a good guy, Deacon, but I don’t want Andrea getting hurt again.”

“I have no intention of leading her on or hurting her, I promise. Even if she was in a position to start a new relationship, I’m off to Australia in a week and not looking to start anything. It would only be for show.”

I’d had relationships, but I’d never wanted to settle down with anyone. My lifestyle consisted of traveling around the world on tours and then requiring solitude for weeks at a time while I wrote.

Generally, I preferred my own company to that of others. None of that lent itself to long-term commitment. Kids were something I could see myself wanting in the future, but I wasn’t optimistic about finding someone who could cope with my chaotic life and bring the type of balance that would allow for both my music career and a family life.

Ollie appeared thoughtful. “The City of Angels wrap party is Saturday night. Andrea is under contract to attend and has been dreading the event since her ex will be there along with his fling, but maybe if you took her…”

“That would work.” One weekend. Two nights. Two dates. Two exes who could learn the world did not revolve around them and get the message we were both moving on.

“She’d need to be talked into it.”

“I can be very convincing.” Yet, somehow, I knew Andrea would be a challenge. The idea made me even more excited to talk with her.

Chapter Five

ANDREA

The smartest decision I’d made during my marriage was to keep my professional career. At least this way I still had my independence and wasn’t left without an income going forward. Being a computer programmer who worked from home allowed me to deep dive into work without leaving the house.

It was a darn good thing I didn’t have to go anywhere since I had paparazzi camped across the street. While the cheating scandal had garnered a fair amount of attention, kissing Deacon Miller up on stage had catapulted me into tabloid-stalking territory.

It had been tempting to visit home, a small town in Kansas, but since my mom and Jeff’s mom held a joint belief that I should forgive him and move past this “phase Jeff is going through,” that wasn’t the best place for me. It was apparently tough for them to comprehend our breakup was permanent.

So when Ollie suggested a massage appointment on Friday morning, I jumped at the chance for some relaxation. As I sat in his SUV on the way to the massage spa, my muscles practically twitched in anticipation.

“You didn’t have to drive me today, Ollie. Gifting me the massage was nice enough.” Now that people knew my car, it was better for me not to drive it, but I could’ve taken an Uber.

“It’s on my way to one of my own appointments, so it was no trouble. And there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“If it’s about doing an interview to tell my side of the story, I haven’t decided whether to do it yet.”

It was bad enough I was contractually obligated to go to the season wrap party on Saturday night, but the producers wanted me to do a sit-down to talk about the affair. I wasn’t sure I had it in me. On the other hand, I didn’t love the idea of Jeff being the only one telling the story. Not only did he blame me for his inability to be faithful, but he seemed to relish the opportunity.

I’d written a quick Instagram post letting people know I appreciated their support and to please respect my privacy, but it seemed the latter was impossible.

“You should do what makes you feel comfortable when it comes to the interview. But as for the wrap party, I was thinking perhaps you might take a date.”

“It’s sweet of you to offer to go with me, Ollie, but⁠—”

He chuckled. “No, dear, not me. Deacon Miller.”

The mere sound of his name caused butterflies to take flight in my stomach.

Ollie pulled into the parking lot of what appeared to be an urban oasis tucked in between large office buildings. He killed the engine while I sat there stunned in the passenger seat.