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"Well, how did she do?" I can't help but ask. I want to be pissed and hear that she struggled without my guidance, but I know better than that. I know she killed it, taking her chance to shine and becoming a fucking beacon impossible to ignore.
She was smart, making connections with the entire crew along the way. As if she was preparing for this moment all along. Maybe she played me like the devil plays the fiddle. And maybe I didn't even care.
The longer she leaves me in the dark trying to figure out what is going on between us the more I begin to question her intentions. Fuck, that makes me sound like a middle-aged dad interviewing a potential suitor for his daughter. Except it's her that I question.
When she first got on set, I didn't trust her. The more I got to know her, I still didn't want to trust her but it's hard to not trust someone who has your cock in their mouth. With every kiss, every touch, every time she let her guard down with me I started letting my walls down. And as soon as they were foundation level, she disappears, leaving me some kind of vulnerable and not fucking happy about it.
"She was incredible. I mean of course, I have been working with her throughout the whole shoot, next to you obviously. This was different. She didn't second guess anything, and had no one to look to for approval. And she rocked it. The crew was receptive to her direction and I think I heard Nora make a job offer. I don't know if Carter was open to it, but she didn't say no either."
So that was it then. Her dream really did come true and she didn't need me anymore to reach it. Somehow this hurt worse than the bitches going into interviews with tears made of eyedrops and stories they made up in their heads.
Lacey can sense what I'm feeling, which is an unhealthy blend of betrayal, blue balls, and bullshit. My cock already misses her and it's fucking sad. She touches my arm like she has a few times on set and part of me wonders if she is telling me all of this with malicious purpose.
"Thanks for letting me know but I need to be alone right now. It's been a fucking week already," I explain, shifting my body to get her hand to fall from my shoulder.
"Look, I consider Carter a friend, but the way she handled this didn't sit right with me. I wasn't trying to put you in the middle of it and I love the two of you together. But love built on dishonesty crumbles at the first storm. I can't sit by and watch that happen to you both."
Heshoweduphereunannounced and uninvited demanding answers I don't owe him. Should I have told him what was going on? I mean, yes, probably. Did I also feel like admitting I stole his job out from under him classified me as 'all the other girls'? Yes, definitely.
I couldn't face him after I agreed to the reshoots. I knew his mind would jump instantly to lumping me in with all the women that broke his trust before. I didn't want to be in that club, and as soon as I said yes, I felt like not only was I in that club but I was organizing the meetings and running the show.
Somehow I imagined he would forget about me after the night with Ella.
Even after he pinned me against the wall and asked to see me the next day.
Even after he reached out saying everything that translated to 'I miss you' without being those words.
He was going through the motions for a hook-up that accidentally meets your sister. Playing it off that he was more into me than he was. That was the only explanation because there was no way he was falling for me. But crap, I was starting to get butterflies in my gut every time I thought about seeing him. Could be from nerves, could be from the way my body craved his touch. Could be both.
"Did you think I wouldn't find out? That you would swoop in and take the credit, leaving me on the sidelines like a fucking joke," I can practically see the steam bursting from his ears as he paces in my kitchen, his tone loud enough to disturb my neighbors.
"How did you hear?" It's all I can manage with the anger hanging between us. Me being upset that he is having this outburst and him frustrated because, from his perspective, I went behind his back. I know in some ways I did but in my mind, it wasn't to betray him but to better myself. Unfair isn't it that I would have to choose between him or my career? I have been faced with that choice before and we know what I decided.
"Does it fucking matter how I found out? It wasn't from you." His words slice my soul like a paper cut that won't heal, the sting neverending. Do I owe him the explanation he came here for?
"So now I'm supposed to give you a play-by-play of what I'm doing? That's not what I signed up for," my hands are almost as hot as my cheeks, the flush of anger coursing through every vessel. I want to say more but the words in my head hold nothing but pain. As angry as I am right now, hurting him doesn't seem like the right thing to do. The way he acts like the choices I make should be run by him first makes my skin heat even more, ready to boil over like a neglected pot on the stove.
He runs his long fingers through his hair, his usual beanie missing from his head today.
"I never said that, but come on, Carter, you didn't think this was something I should know?" his tone is lower, more disappointment than anger dripping from his words.
"No, I honestly didn't. This is none of your business. You don't own Ovis or have any sort of exclusivity contract with them. They can work with and hire whomever they want. I think your big ego is broken because that someone happened to be me this time."
His scoff is audible and the smirk on his lips mocks me.
"So you think they didn't ask me to do them first? You assumed you were their number one choice? Please, you're smarter than that. They hired you because I refused."
The invisible knife goes so deep into me that I swear I can feel it come back out the other side. Is that truly what he thinks? That all I can ever be is second-rate to him? That I will never be chosen first on the playground for a round of dodgeball?
"Fuck you," the words burn on my lips as I growl them. The only other time I have used that word was at the mercy of him and my lips made an O instead of burning with anger. He steps back toward the door knowing what he said cut deep.
"Congratulations, Carter, you got exactly what you wanted. You landed the job you were thirsty for the first day you got on set. I hope you enjoy it," he turns and waits with his hand on the doorknob for a few breaths. My chest is heaving like I ran a marathon but I haven't moved. And then the door slams and I am left with myself. The me that finally got what she has worked so hard for, and yet feels even more empty.
One Month Later
"Thanksagainforsettingthis up, Mel. I couldn't have gotten this far without your help."
Starting over feels like cheating. Like deleting all of my Instagram posts about being a big-shot photographer can excuse all the things I did. Not that it was all my fault, but at the end of the day, you are what everything perceives you to be. And I was nothing more than a selfish asshole ruining lives every chance I got.
