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“Did you run into Grant?” he asks with a genuine innocent curiosity.
I pull out a nasty cloth of amaranth and throw it to the side. “Uh. No. Was he there?”
Dad guffaws. “I’m surprised you didn’t see him!”
“No, I was kind of busy. You know. It all happened so fast.”
He doesn’t bat an eye. Clearly, he isn’t suspecting anything. “Well, I didn’t know he was going. I was just looking at the press photos from the event last night and saw he was there with Victoria. I’m shocked you two didn’t run into each other.”
“Yeah. Me too,” I reply.Relax. Dad wants you to be happy. You did what made you happy.
Yeah, that’s a crock of shit.
“I just don’t know how he does it. He’s at an awards show one night and then jetting off to London the next morning at the crack of dawn.”
I stop pulling weeds. “He’s in London?”
“Oh yeah. Visiting the set of one of the new shows Infinium is producing. I think he’s even doing some press. You might have just broken him out of his shell with that show of yours.”
I smile to myself. Maybe that’s why our paths needed to cross. We needed to walk each other into new phases of our lives. That would make all of this guilt worth something. Grant is onto greener pastures. And so am I.
And yet, just like the weeds return to infest the garden every year, I can’t seem to shake the feeling that Grant and I aren’t quite done.
14
GRANT
I’ve never been more stunned to receive a text message.
Usually, when a text comes through from an unfamiliar phone number, it’s a phishing scam or some poor older woman whose thumb slipped when she was typing in the phone number.
It’s never usually a woman I shouldn’t have slept with. Twice.
Hi, it’s Harley. Heard you were in London. Say hi to Big Ben and Parliament for me. :)
I’m lying in bed with the covers pulled up to my chest. I was just about to clear out my inbox and pop a sleeping pill. Now my heart is pounding and sleep isdefinitelynot in the cards for a while.
I’ve been in London for a week doing press and visiting our new studio. It’s been a whirlwind meeting with talent, investors, and execs. And the interviews have been both welcoming and tedious. Ever since Harley and I sat down, I’ve found it more pleasant to talk about my work.
However, here in the UK, people are wondering why I deign to have Infinium compete with the likes of the BBC. The answer is because I can. The company is thriving, scandals notwithstanding. Whynottry and compete with the BBC? I’m not a rash businessman, I know what I can handle. And this is the next step in total domination of entertainment on demand. Old intellectual properties from the UK are clamoring to be reinvigorated.
Harley’s thoughts on the matter haven’t left my brain. I know I’m sort of just…well, not even reinventing the wheel. And up until now, I’ve been able to push them away and justified that I’m doing what’s best for the company and its longevity.
Now seeing her name on the screen makes me wonder if maybe I’m just scared of taking a risk.
The phone glows, her text message pulsing with potential. I could text her back. I could even call her. But maybe I should just ignore it.
Shit, I don’t know.
We agreed nothing more should happen. And then we fucked again.
But that made sense in a perverse way. The first time we had sex was ushering in discomfort. And then the second time was ushering it out.
Too bad I’m still thinking about her every single freaking day.
Before I can decide what I’m going to do, I get another text.
Shit, forgot it’s the middle of the night there. Hope I didn’t wake you up.
