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“Hey, you weren’t there. The guy was being a dick.”
“I didn’t have to be there to know that it could have been handled better than breaking his nose!”
I shrugged, not really believing that. To me, the guy got less than he deserved. If I had been just a little less aware, if I hadn’t been preoccupied with chasing after Zoe, I probably would have broken more than just his nose. Probably should have, too.
“Get your ass to the hotel,” Martin finally said, sounding a bit calmer but still angry as hell. “We have a meeting with our lawyers to figure out how we’re going to fucking handle this.”
I didn’t want to meet with any lawyer. Right now, my mid was spinning. I was angry, pissed off that everyone was pissed off at me. A part of it was the lawsuit, but most of my anger was targeted towards Zoe. I couldn’t believe I was reliving it all over again. I wanted to turn around, go back to her apartment and continue fighting. I wanted to shout, blame her for everything that was happening, say things that would make her feel like shit. Make her feel the way I did right now. Then I wanted to take her into my arms and tell her it was all going to be okay.
“Fine, I’m on my way,” I said through clenched teeth. But Martin had already hung up.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN: Zoe
“You bastard.”
Mark’s face filled the entirety of my television screen. He was talking to the press, his nose covered in bandages, giving his fictitious accounting of the events of last night. He made it seem like he had been attacked out of the blue, that he had just been saying hello to a fellow writer and that Chad was some mentally unstable boyfriend. He was playing for the cameras, and doing such a good job of it that it made me sick.
“Damn it,” I sighed, wiping another tear from my cheek.
Ever since Chad had walked out, I had been trying to stop the waterworks. It took every bit of willpower, and then some, to not break down. I had turned on the TV, and when I saw Mark’s face on TMZ, I concentrated my anger towards him. It was the best thing I could do, because just thinking about how Chad had left, about how I had let him go again made me hate myself more than I hated Mark.
I regretted everything then.
I regretted ever having started up an affair with Mark, a married man who was more in love with himself than anyone else.
I regretted letting that bastard into my life, into my bed, between my legs.
I regretted talking myself into believing that Graham’s advice was the right thing to do. Push Chad away. Keep your head down. Lay low for a while.
I regretted it all.
And I blamed it on Mark. With every ounce of being inside me. I detested the smug bastard. I was glad Chad had slammed his face into that table. My final regret was that I had not had the guts to do so myself.
My cellphone rang. I sniffed and wiped another stray tear away, bracing myself when I saw Graham’s name on the screen. I tried to compose myself as much as possible, then answered, knowing he would probably see through my guise anyway.
“Are you near a TV?” Graham asked as soon as I answered.
“I’m watching him now,” I replied. “None of what he’s saying is true. He’s downplaying how much of an asshole he was.”
“Of course, he is,” Graham said. “He’s a lawyer, and he’s suing your boyfriend. Of course, he’s going to play dirty.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I choked.
There was silence on the other line.
“Graham?”
“You know, Zoe, I’ll always have your back, right?”
“Yeah,” I whispered, my voice breaking.
“I met with the publisher this morning and made sure nothing changes in the way we treat you,” Graham said. “You’re just as valuable as Mark. Even more.”
“Thank you, Graham,” I replied. “I took your advice. I told Chad we couldn’t pursue anything. He’s leaving town.”
“Staying out of the spotlight is key, Zoe,” Graham said. “You don’t want your name tarnished in any way.”
“Sure,” I replied, focusing my emotions on the anger I felt for the bastard on TV.
