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He continues to look at me, unconvinced.
“I’m sorry, Levi. I’ve just been distracted. That’s all.”
“Rhy, I don’t mean to overstep, but are you still seeing that therapist I recommended?”
“I am,” I answer. My brows are drawn together, recalling the conversation I had with Dr. Greene last week. And the specific encounter near the UCLA campus that I haven’t told a soul about.
“Okay. And is the therapy helping?”
I look up at him, remaining silent while bobbing my head up and down, indicating an extremely unreassuring affirmative answer.
“I’m fine, Levi. I’m going tonight, and you have nothing to worry about. I even have Carrie dropping off my suit right now,” I add, trying to sound convincing and hoping it would add to my already thinning argument. I realize I’ve said that I’m fine twice in a five-minute span. Not very convincing at all.
“Well, you should have had that here already, but I guess I’ll take what I can get,” he says, loosening up.
Levi is starting to slacken for now, but his trust in me is starting to wane thin, and I don’t necessarily blame him. Avoiding his calls and emails isn’t helping, and I know forcing him to show up at my door just so he can talk to me is his last straw.
“You have nothing to worry about. I’ll be there on time.” I start to walk towards the door to walk him out when Carrie, my assistant, bumps into me with a garment bag in one hand while balancing what looks like a dozen shopping bags in the other. I rush to help her, my hands fumbling as I walk back to my desk.
“Okay. Just call me when you’re back home tonight. Let me know how it goes,” Levi answers with a hint of hesitation.
“I will. Now go, enjoy your night with your family,” I say as I wave him off.
His phone rings just then, ending our meeting and naturally ushering him out the door. He waves his hand with his back facing me, already talking a mile a minute to whomever is on the other line.
Carrie is in the middle of my office, moving efficiently, just as she does with her job on a day-to-day basis. As another integral member of the Rhylan Matthews team, she manages the ins and outs of my days. Without her, Shana, or Levi, I would probably be standing on a street corner with a cardboard sign that says Will Act for Food.
My hand goes to the silver hanger peeking off the top of a black garment bag. “This is the Tom Ford I asked Shana for?”
“Yep. She also got you some Louboutins,” she answers, pointing to the tan shoe box sitting on the floor next to three other shoe boxes. Options, as Shana always stresses.It’s good to have options.
“Great. Hey, thanks for getting these at the last minute. I know I should have asked you to grab them sooner. Sorry,” I apologize.
“Don’t worry about it,” she answers as she waves off my concern of having to inconvenience her. “By the way, Shana told me something. She asked me not to mention it to you.”
My brows draw together, confused as to what Shana could have told her but doesn’t want me to know.
“Bella Raven is going to be there,” she answers my unspoken question.
“Well, yeah. She’sinthe movie,” I explain.
“Yeah, but I guess her publicist called after your interview with Jack Stuber and… She’s basically stating you guys are dating. And have been since the movie wrapped.”
I groan and shake my head. “It’s fine,” I answer with a surrendering slap to my thighs. “I can’t avoid her. I guess I’ll just have to deal with her.”
“Okay,” Carrie responds, her face apologetic for being the bearer of bad news.
“The car’s going to be here at five. I’m just going to shower and get ready,” I say, changing the subject and keeping my eye on the time. “You can go. I’m good here.”
Carrie looks down at her watch and nods, confirming that my itinerary is accurate. “You sure? I can wait until the driver gets here. Just in case you need anything,” she offers.
“No, I’m fine. Really. I’ll see you on Monday.”
“Okay.” She nods in my direction. “Call me if you need anything.” I follow her out of my office towards the living room as she waves at the guys before letting herself out.
“I better get going,” Charles says as I turn to face him. He stands as he points a thumb towards the door. “Amelia had her whole glam squad at home. I’m hoping they’ll be finished by the time I get back.”
“Yeah, I got to hop in the shower and get ready too,” I explain.
