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“You’re not a musician?” I asked. Oftentimes, musicians worked as tour managers when their touring schedules allowed them to make some extra cash.
Lyndsey shrugged. “I hate to say it, but it’s never appealed to me. I’m not a fan of being in front of crowds, and I couldn’t carry a tune to save my life,” she explained.
“Fascinating,” I mumbled, leaning forward and resting my elbows on the table to get a better look at her. She was pretty, in a subtle, unassuming way, like a foreign film or a book of poetry. She was the opposite of anyone I’d ever been attractedto. I tried to quiet my brewing hard-on, placing the folder on my lap. Priya noticed and kicked me under the table.
“Hands off,” she mouthed.
“There’s sushi in the green room if you want some,” Lyndsey adds, snapping me out of my reverie.
“Thanks. I’d love some. I’m a sashimi guy. D-do you like sushi?” Again, Lyndsey seems to obliterate my ability to form complete sentences.
“Yeah. I like a good spicy dragon roll. You better get there quick, before Henry and Apollo eat everything good. No one touched the Philadelphia rolls.”
“Why they thought it would be a good idea to include cream cheese in sushi is beyond me,” I say, walking past Lyndsey. My stomach tenses as I feel her body heat painfully near me.
Lyndsey laughed. “For real, though. What’s next? Dessert sushi? Wait, that might be kind of good.”
To my surprise, Lyndsey keeps pace with me as we walk back to the green room together. I grab the last spicy tuna roll and stick my tongue out at Henry, who mouths, “Asshole!” in my direction.
“You snooze you lose, Henry!” I say, stuffing an entire piece of sushi into my mouth to prove a point.
Lyndsey shakes her head.
“Oh! I meant to ask. So, you have a plus one for tonight,” Lyndsey starts.
I stopped mid-chew. “I do? I don’t remember adding anyone to the list,” I say.
“Yeah! It’s …” Lyndsey says as she walks over to her printer and pulls out a piece of paper, “Eve Matthews. Isn’t she on that werewolf show?”
“Oh, Vince, for fuck’s sake! I thought you broke up with her! Quit stringing that poor girl along. Put her out of her misery,” Priya laments, yanking a curler out of her hair to get the perfect seventies feathered look.
“I thought I did, too,” I mumble. A cloud of dread settles in my stomach. Suddenly, I’m not hungry.
“What do you mean you ‘thought’ you broke up with her? That’s usually something someone’s pretty clear about!” Priya exclaims.
“We talked last week. I assumed she got the point,” I grumble.
Priya shakes her head, causing her curls to bounce. She’s wearing a diaphanous golden gown with a vee that goes down to her belly button and nude go-go boots.
“Well, clearly, she didn’t because she flew across the country to see you! This is a disaster! If the press gets wind of this, we’ll have paparazzi on our tail again. God, you have never brought me a single moment of peace in thirty years.”
Lyndsey stands there, the guest list crumpling in her hand. “Do you want me to tell her she’s not on the list? I can lie.”
I shake my head. “No, no. I’ll talk to her. Is she here?”
Lyndsey nods. “She’s at will-call. Follow me.”
“I made it clear we were done,” I explain as we walk down the massive hall.
“What were your exact words? Did you mention ‘taking a break’ or was it a clear ‘breakup’?” Lyndsey asks.
Calabasas, CA.
One Month Ago.
“So, it’s, like, at this new sushi place on Sunset that’s also a spa? Sah-steamy or whatever? They’re catering our wrap party,” Eve rambled on, stabbing a piece of lettuce with her fork before signaling for the waiter.
“Could I get more edamame, please?” she asked. The waiter nodded, and I picked absentmindedly at my acai bowl.
