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"The reason being we're both out and about trying to be seen, and there are only a handful of really good spots for that?"
He chuckled. "Not just that. I didn't even want to come out tonight after the shopping, and yet, here I am and here you are--"
"And? It's a coincidence." She was feeling as breathless as his proximity had always made her when they were teens, and she was hoping it didn’t show too much. ’Act, Jill,’ she told herself. ’Do the acting.’
"I'd like to see you on purpose," he said. "Seriously. I'd like for us to sit down and talk about…things."
She hesitated. As much as she wanted him to ask to see her, she wasn’t sure she could survive another go. Besides, Kline didn’t like anything that came easily. "I don't know that we really have anything to talk about, Kline. I mean, it's been years."
He sighed, running a hand through his hair in a familiar gesture that told her he was nervous. "A lot of years to catch up on. I have missed you, Jill."
She bit back the response that flew to her lips and pressed them together instead. She decided to tell the truth. "Things are complicated right now, Kline. I don't know that I'm up to it.It took a long time for me to…be okay with things. Now there are other things going on and I have to focus on them. But it's not that I don't want to see you. It's good to see you.And that you're doing well."
He released the breath he'd been holding and nodded slowly. "I understand," he said, waiting a beat before quirking the corner of his mouth and giving a slight snort. "I guess I should be thankful that you don't hate me. I'm glad to see you're doing well, andhopefully, we'll run into each other again. Soon."
"I don't hate you," Jill said softly, reaching out to touch his hand, brushing her fingers over his before dropping her arm back to her side. "I never did.And at the rate we're going, I'm sure we will run into each other again."
"I look forward to it," he said, offering a smile. They locked eyes and there was a long pause before they both started speaking, making excuses to get back to their tables. Kline wished her well, leaning in to kiss her cheek, before walking away.
CHAPTERTWO
Kline Scott
"Find a friend?" Roland asked, rising to meet Kline as he walked back to the table they would share.
"Mmhmm. Jill Parker. We knew each other in New York."
"The Jill Parker? Devil's Party Jill Parker?"
"The same."
Roland laughed. "Jesus Christ! Now that is what I call a friend!She'd be a perfect date for you.High profile.High Q status. Super hot commodity, especially for that play. You know she’s down to the skin in that? Fuck yeah! Lots of media attention right now. She's the wounded darling, you know.What kind of mental midget cheats on that? Guess it just goes to the saying, show me a man fucking a hot woman and I’ll show you a man tired of fucking that hot woman"
Kline blinked. "I'm sorry?What?"
"Yeah," Roland took a drink and laughed again. "Apparently she'd been married to this producer for a few years, and nobody knew about it until she filed for divorce.He's sleeping with a celebutante.I forget which one. Maybe a Hilton? Interchangeable if you ask me."
Kline took a sip of his water, "Hm. I had no idea." He glanced over his shoulder but couldn't see past the wall that separated the rooms. "That must be what she meant about things being complicated," he said, under his breath.
"What was that?" Roland asked.
"Nothing," Kline said, shaking his head. "I was just talking to myself. Memories, you know?"
"You should ask her out. It would be great dish for her reps, too. Talk about trumping a Hilton sister! You're much higher profile."
"I just tried. She shot me down. Anyway, I'm seeing someone," Kline said casually.
"No, you aren't.Kara's in Spain."
"I'm not seeing Kara. I'm seeing a writer." He tried out the line like he meant it. He could be seeing Rhiannon. She was nice, great in bed, and seemed really into him. Roland was on his last nerve about setting him up, and the idea of being set up with someone who had just shot him down, no matter how nicely, was not a great feeling.
"What? Who?"
"Rhiannon. The writer. I told you and Clara about her,” he added to Roland’s blank look.
"If you have to add clarifiers, then why bother? Anyway, what’s her last name?"
Kline floundered for a moment. He thought she had a first name for a last name, but he couldn’t call it to mind. So, he said, "Roland, you really can be a reprehensible twat."
