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“Dang it,” I hissed, then scrubbed my hand over my mouth. “Hire a restoration crew.”
“What? Thorne, you can’t just fix this for them.”
“Why the hell not?” I snapped.
“Because . . . not everyone appreciates someone swooping in and pushing around their money. What makes you think they want your help?”
Is that how Scarlett would view it? Me pushing around my money?
What was it she said to me?Everything’s so easy for you. You can just screw up right and left with zero consequence because you have money and fame to fall back on.
Standing, I paced in front of the sofa, contemplating my next move. I could leave well enough alone and go back to my old life, to filming, and forget all about Scarlett and Batter and Bake and the Rees’s . . .
The thought alone filled me with loneliness.
To hell with it.
“I don’t care what they want. Do it,” I said, which wasn’t entirely true. Of course I cared.
I stopped pacing and pinched the bridge of my nose, taking a deep breath. “Listen, I was there. This is partly my fault, and I want to fix it. Even if Scarlett . . .” I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. “I’m sure her parents will be amenable and appreciate the gesture. It’s a small amount of money for me, so I want you to get the best crew on it. One that will work fast.”
“The whole damned building probably needs to come down.”
“So tear it down,” I ground out through clenched teeth, struggling with the fragile hold on my patience. “And have them build something even bigger and better with a state-of-the-art sprinkler system.”
Trainer sighed. “Fine. I’ll tell Caroline and get her on it.”
“Good,” I said, feeling slightly better about taking action.
“Just be ready for filming by week’s end. Get your head back in the game. You fought hard for this.”
An image of Scarlett flickered through my head, and my heart pinched. “Yeah, I’ll be ready,” I said, even though I didn’t feel it, not really.
SCARLETT
If one more person asked me how I was doing or said they were sorry to hear about the breakup or pretended like they cared when they’d never spoken to me a day in my life prior to Thorne’s arrival, I was going to puke. Seriously barf my guts out.
My face was puffy and red, and my eyes ached from crying. Still, I couldn’t avoid school forever, so when I arrived Tuesday morning, I prepared myself for a glut of questions, and my peers at Lakeview didn’t fail to meet my extremely low expectations with their complete and utter predictability.
So it was about the time I walked into fourth period, sat down, and Gabby sidled up next to me that I about lost my cool. “Sorry to hear about Thorne,” she said in a saccharine tone.
“Yep.” I flipped my textbook open, straining to stay focused.
“I bet he’s pretty upset, huh? I mean, to be dumped so publicly like that?”
“I don’t know,” I said in a monotone voice.
“Maybe you could give me his number, so I can call and see if he’s okay.”
She has got to be kidding me.
I stopped flipping the pages of my book and glanced over at her with narrowed eyes as she added, “You know, if you don’t mind.”
“Why would I mind?” I asked, my voice dripping with disdain.
“Oh.” She perked, straightening in her seat. “Okay, then.” She pulled out her phone and opened it to a new contact, then handed it to me. “Go ahead and add it,” she said.
I quickly typed and handed it back with a broad smile. “There ya go.”
