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Surreptitiously pulling out my phone, I text him. I don’t want news to hit the internet before I have a chance to tell him. I don’t owe him anything but he’s been through enough and we’re going to be running in the same circles this fall.

MAYA: Hey. I’m at that pre-production meeting I told you about. Guess who’s supposed to sign a contract to star in the movie?

CASH: Who?!

MAYA: Your ex and your ex bestie.

CASH: Both of them? Jesus.

MAYA: I’m sorry.

CASH: You don’t have anything to apologize for. Please tell me you won’t be shooting in Atlanta.

MAYA: No. Vancouver and Budapest.

CASH: Thank fuck for little things!

MAYA: Maybe it’ll fall through. I’m so not excited now.

CASH: Thanks for giving me a head’s up.

MAYA: Take care. I’ll let you know if anything else comes up.

CASH: Later.

I stick my phone back in my bag and try to listen to what Don is saying, but I’ve already lost interest. This stuff is pretty standard, and I’ve been through it enough times that it’s lost its novelty.

My phone buzzes and I look down.

BYRON: What’s going on with you, girlfriend? You’re acting squirrely.

MAYA: Tell you later.

BYRON: Lunch when this yawn-fest is over?

MAYA: Absolutely.

* * *

Byron and I head to a trendy little place in Brentwood. Lots of people in the industry hang out here and I recognize a handful of faces in the room, though I don’t stop to talk to anyone. This isn’t a networking opportunity, so I’m happy to sit at a table in the back, away from the chaos of probing eyes.

“Dish,” Byron says once we’ve ordered.

I laugh and tell him about Cash. The night we spent together, running into each other again in Atlanta, and our non-date, which is what I’m calling it since it ended with us essentially leaving everything up in the air.

“He’s pretty,” Byron gushes, looking him up online. “Oooh, look at this from a few years ago.” He holds out his phone and I grimace at the picture of him and Shandy on a red carpet. He looks fantastic in a tux, and she’s breathtakingly beautiful. I’m not insecure about myself, but she’s one of those women who’s flawless.

“Yuck.” I wrinkle my nose and shove the phone back at him.

“A wee bit jealous, are we?”

“No.” I shake my head. “But I don’t want to look at them together.”

“If it makes you feel better, I’ve heard through the grapevine that the new marriage is already in trouble.”

“Really? How come?”

“If the rumors are to be believed, he wants kids—and she has no interest in getting pregnant.”