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Six years is a long time to continue thinking about a woman who didn't even care enough about me to say goodbye.
I turn off the television.
It's time to move on.
“What the hell was that?”Elena, my manager, demands with her hands on her hips and a less-than-pleased expression on her face. She's standing on the opposite side of my kitchen island as I pour us both some coffee. “You were supposed to tell Julia that the rumors about you and Aiden are true.”
“But they're not.”
She waves me off with a flippant flick of her wrist. “Doesn't matter. Co-stars turned lovers? The media goes crazy for that shit.”
“I don't care about any of that, Elena.”
“But producers do. Casting directors do. A relationship with the current hero of Hollywood could do incredible things for your career, and you know it.”
“I don't—“
“You don't care. I know. You've said that already. But unfortunately for you, Althea, this isn't a case of what you do or don't want. Aiden's already agreed to it. His people think a relationship with you will benefit him too, help prevent rumors of his sexcapades or whatever. I don't know. Point is, this is a business thing. And that's exactly what you hired me for, isn't it? Making your business decisions.”
I'm not entirely sure she's right about that last bit, but I don't go to the effort of correcting her.
Thing is, I know what an alliance with Aiden McCallister could do for my public image. Just last week, his face graced the cover ofGQ,and though I've landed myself on the front page of several large magazines myself, I'm not ignorant enough to ignore that Aiden could help take my career to the next level.
And I might have even gone along with it if I hadn't made an incredibly stupid mistake last month.
“I slept with him.”
Elena gapes at me, eyelids blinking rapidly. “What?”
“Remember the movie wrap party?” I ask, and she nods, mouth still open. “It was afterward, at the hotel. I was drunk and sad, and well...he was there.”
“Jesus Christ.” She rubs at her Botoxed brow with two fingers, her disappointment spreading from her in seismic waves. “How many times have I told you not to shit where you eat?”
I frown. “Never?”
“Well, pardon me for thinking you had the common sense not to fuck your co-star.”
“At least you see now why I can't go along with this.”
“What?” She coughs a contentious laugh. “No, no, no. I've worked too hard to put this together just to call it off now because you can't keep it in your pants.”
“I won't go along with something I'm uncomfortable with just because all you can see are dollar signs.”
She snorts, and it's this obnoxious sound that matches the sour expression on her face.
“Don't be precious, Althea. This is Hollywood. Arrangements like this come part and parcel with the business you're in. You've known that since the day you landed your first role, so don't turn your nose up at a media relationship with Aiden just because you couldn't keep your legs shut.”
I'm one breath away from firing her when my phone rings.
“I'm not doing it,” I spit, effectively ending the conversation as I dig my phone out of my purse.
Mom.
She never calls.
I frown at the screen for a beat or two before answering, vaguely aware of Elena slamming her way out of my apartment.
“Mom?”
