A part of me still couldn’t believe it. I was halfway through the lobby, phone in my hand dialing Martin, when I stopped and turned to look at the large TV that was hanging on the wall. Zoe looked incredible in that pencil skirt she was wearing, the blouse that clutched her breasts, those sapphire eyes. She was smiling at the camera, and I could have sworn I was looking at the girl I had once know so many years ago. It’s like she hadn’t aged at all.
“You rock star, you!” Martin cheered when he finally picked up.
I kept my eyes on the screen, unable to pull away from those eyes that gazed right into the camera. She was nervous, it was clear as hell. Like a deer in the headlights. I would have felt sorry for her if I wasn’t still getting over the shock of running into her.
Of all places.
“Did you know that Zoe Maxwell was going to be on the segment?”
“Thank you, Martin. You’re a genius, Martin. I would be nothing without you, Martin. Those are the words I expect to hear come out of your mouth first.”
“Sure, you’re a God among men,” I replied, for some reason frustrated with the back and forth. “Zoe Maxwell. Did you know she would be here?”
“Zoe who?”
“The writer.”
There was a pause, and I turned to the girl at the desk and signaled her to turn up the volume. Dan was asking Zoe something, and I could see how Zoe tried her best to maintain eye contact. Like she had been trained or something. She looked so awkward, it was ridiculous.
“Wow, she’s a babe,” Martin’s voice broke through my daze. “What about her?”
“That’s my ex-girlfriend,” I replied. “The one I told you about years ago.”
On the screen, Zoe was smiling. It was fake, like it had been plastered on her face before the show along with the make-up.
“Where do you come up with the ideas for your books?” the blonde was asking her. “I find them simply… delicious! Don’t you audience?”
“Well, um, thanks,” Zoe was saying. “I guess I draw from personal experience, and – ”
“Personal experience?” Dan asked, winking at the audience. “Do tell us more.”
The audience laughed, and so did Zoe, although it looked a lot more like uncomfortable laughter than anything else. I remembered reading one of her books, or at least trying to. Who was I kidding? I had skipped most of the regular bullshit and concentrated on the sex scenes. I remembered thinking how kinky the writer was, but that was before I had any idea that Zoe Maxwell was my Zoe.
“No, nothing that personal,” Zoe said. “It’s still fiction.”
“Yeah, right,” I said.
“What’s the problem?” Martin asked in my ear.
I forgot he was still online. “You could have told me she’d be here. I felt like a fool running into her like that.”
“Sorry, but it’s kinda hard to keep track of who you’re dating, who you’re fucking, and who gave you a hand job while you showed them how to do their Pilates properly,” Martin replied. “I don’t keep tabs on your girls.”
No, you don’t. But I should have. I stepped closer to the TV, taking in the whole of her, my eyes running over every inch of her body. I noticed that she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. I should have tried calling her last night again.
“Are you still there?” Martin asked.
“Yeah,” I replied, “I’ll call you later.”
I hung up before he could say anything else and pocketed my phone. I stared at the TV screen, watching as Zoe’s head turned from Erin to Dan and back again. They were boxing her in, trying to get something juicy out of her. I looked at the girl behind the desk who was also staring at the TV. She had a wide smile on her face, and in front of her were a stack of books that had a shirtless dude on the cover.
“Are those her books?” I asked.
The girl looked at me and her smile widened. “Yeah, she’s an incredible writer. This book is sooo hot... I just read the first few chapters and I’m already in love with it.”
“You have to be careful, Dan,” the blonde was saying on the screen. “Zoe might just use you as a character in her next book.”
The audience laughed again, and Zoe shifted on the couch uncomfortably, then crossed her legs. Those long, beautiful legs. Legs that I remembered wrapping around my waist when I was making her scream.