“So, you’re not one of those stereotypical actors who only eats lettuce and drinks protein shakes?”
I laugh and shake my head. “No. I don’t know anyone like that, actually. I do know some vegans, but most people eat balanced diets. Even them. Thankfully, eating disorders are mostly a thing of the past in my profession.”
“That’s good,” Liv says with a nod and then narrows her eyes at someone who just walked past. “I think that person has been taking our picture.”
“They have,” I confirm and reach over to take her hand in mine. “Just ignore them.”
“It’s annoying,” she says with a frown. “They don’t even ask.”
“They never do. The paparazzi are worse. At least fans aren’t aggressive about it.”
“Well, I’m sorry. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have suggested this place.”
“I’m glad you did. This shit happens, Liv. A lot. You just have to roll with it if you don’t want to be a complete hermit.”
She nods, and I signal to the waitress for the check. I pay, and then we walk out to my car.
Liv’s quiet and reaches for her phone, starting to thumb through it. I know she’s tired, and I hate that she had a rough day.
But I guess we all have them sometimes. I’ll draw a nice, hot bath for her and rub her feet later. Pamper her a little. With some wine and TLC, she’ll feel better.
“What in the actual fuck?” she wonders aloud.
“What’s up?”
“I know you’re driving, but this.”
She shows me her phone, and I quickly glance at it. She’s looking through Instagram, and there are two side-by-side images. On the left is a picture of me with another woman about six years ago.
On the right is the photo of Liv and me the night we went to the dinner party in LA.
“The caption reads: Which woman is best for Vaughn? And then they go through about ten points as to why they think this other woman, Adrienne McCoy, is a better match for you.”
“Fuck.”
“Among those reasons,” Liv continues, her voice full of hurt and anger, “is because Adrienne has a great house in Hawaii, her father is in oil—whatever the hell that means—and she’s prettier than me. She’s a nine, and I’m just a six on a scale of one to ten.”
“Fuck that.” Now I’m pissed.
“Also, she’s an A-lister, and I’m just a costume designer.”
“You’re not just anything. Close that out, Olivia.”
“How do you live with that shit?” she demands and tosses her phone into her bag. “It’s insulting and demeaning.”
“First of all, I don’t read that shit,” I reply. “Ever. I don’t pay attention to the press. Also, I never in my life dated Adrienne. She was a co-star of mine more than six years ago. We played the circuit, posed on the red carpet, all of that stuff because we were co-stars. But we were never an item.”
She just crosses her arms over her chest and looks out the passenger window.
“Liv, listen to me. You can’t pay attention to that drivel. It’s all lies. They write that shit to entertain their readers, but they don’t care about the truth. Because the truth is boring. Not only did I not date her, but she’s not better for me. Not at all. You’re the one I’m with, and you’re the only woman I’m interested in.”
Because I love you so completely it makes my gut ache.
But I’m not ready to say that out loud quite yet. Not when it’s being forced out of me like this. She wouldn’t want that.
“You’re right. I’m just touchy today,” Liv says. “People suck.”
“Yeah, they can. Just focus on what’s real. On what’s true. You’re with me, and I’m sure as hell not going anywhere. Anything else that’s said doesn’t matter because we know the truth.”
“Okay.” She takes my hand and presses it to her cheek. “I’m okay. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. But, Liv, you’re going to have to grow a thick skin where this kind of stuff is concerned because it’s going to happen more than either of us likes.”
She nods once more. “I’ll handle it.”
I hope she’s right.
Chapter 14
~Olivia~
“Knock-knock.”
I turn from my computer and stare at Adam, who’s standing in the doorway of my office with a wide grin on his handsome face.
“Hey, what are you doing in town?”
“I had appointments and a table read today. Thought I’d swing by and see if I can steal you for lunch.”
I glance down at all the work I still need to get through today and then close the laptop and nod. “Yes. Yes, you can. I’m starving, and my eyes need a break.”
“Then let’s give them one.” He waits while I shut things down and grab my purse. “How’s it been going around here?”
“Busy,” I reply with a grin. “But that’s good. It means we all have a job.”
“And that means I have a job, so I suppose we can’t complain.”