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I press play. It’s of a blonde woman spread out on her bed with a man’s face between her legs. The video is pretty poor quality, so her face is grainy, but her body is long and slender.
My eyes widen. Why would someone send this to me? This has to be from some creep sending videos to random numbers.
I’m about to turn it off when the woman cries out, “Oh, Michael.”
I narrow my eyes on the video. Did she just say Michael? As inmyMichael?
“Michael, yes,” she moans again, her breaths morphing into helpless panting. “Yes, right there.”
“Do you like that, baby?”
With only a view of the back of his brown hair, I know immediately that thisisin fact the Michael I’ve been in a committed relationship with for four years. The man who asked to spend the rest of his life with me.
The bastard fucked another woman behind my back? I shake my head. This can’t be recent. I skip through the video with a shaky finger in an attempt to figure out how long ago this could have been. As far as I know, this could be from his college days before we met.
“Say my name,” the girl gasps as she straddles Michael. He grunts uncontrollably, his fingers digging into this mystery woman’s bare hips.
“Kristen,” Michael calls out and throws his head back in sheer ecstasy.
“What the f—” I start, but I’m interrupted by the honking of a car beside us in traffic.
The more I watch the video the more obvious it becomes that this is Kristen’s bedroom. The walls are the same hideous shade of burnt orange, and I could spot that tacky floral bedspread anywhere.
“Say it again,” she cries.
“Kristen,” he says louder.
I shut off the video. I can’t watch—or listen—to it any longer. My heart feels like it’s racing two hundred beats per minute. I’m riddled with both rageandshame. No wonder Kristen has been such a bitch lately.
No matter what I do, I can’t go there. I can’t show my face at that church.
“Pull over right here, please,” I tell the driver.
“We’re still five blocks from the church.”
“I’m aware. Drop me off here.”
As soon as he pulls over, I’m out of the car and running in the opposite direction. While I have no intention of heading back home, I need to get as far away as possible. Fuck Kristen. Fuck Michael. Fuck this stupid wedding I wasneverall that excited about to begin with.
And most of all,fucklove.
Chapter 2
Carter
“Butdotheygettogether before or after they jump out of the plane?” Howard asks.
“They should make up while they’re on the plane, then leap out together moments before it explodes,” Gary chimes in.
I’m seated with Howard and Gary at our usual table near the back of Per Se to discuss our next romcom-adventure TV series. Although, at this point, I’m only here for the food and champagne. These shows practically write themselves. I’m not sure why these two are pressed to meet up and talk things out like we’re rookie producers.
I let out a long and drawn-out exhale before taking a sip from my champagne. This romcom shit has been done a thousand times. At least this one I didn’t fall asleep at the table.
My phone vibrates in the pants pocket of my all-black cashmere suit. I pull it out and check my notifications from under the table.
The CEO of Foxtail Studios wants to meet with you. Should I arrange a meeting based on your calendar?Amber, my assistant, texts.
I sigh and return my phone to my pocket. If I have to go toanothermeeting with yet another nepo baby CEO, I might lose my mind. To be fair, I’m a nepo baby, too, but I don’t go around flaunting it every chance I get. I didn’t even go by my real last name when I first started out.
