“Probably was Samantha,” Greyson growls. Then he sighs. “What’s done is done, though. If only there was a way… Maybe if we cooled things off for a bit, waited it out.”
“Yeah, that might be best,” I say simply.
I should leave it at that, but I can’t. “Might be best to cool things off for good.”
Greyson’s look at me is abrupt. “What?”
“I’m a detriment to your company, your image, your employees. We don’t even know what this is—is it really worth risking everything for it? Maybe it’s best if I stay away from the office, and you call me up next time you go to shoot another episode. Or you can even find another cinematographer if you think that’d be easier.”
I can’t believe I’m saying this, virtually giving up my dream job. But it’s the right thing to do. I can feel it.
The last thing I want in the world is to hurt Greyson.
At the end of the day, I’ll still have Storm Inc. on my resume. And as for Greyson and I…
“Why are you saying this?” he asks hoarsely.
I find that I’m rising to leave, done with my dinner, done with tonight.
“I’m tired of pretending like we’re a normal couple one minute, then hiding away the next. I’m tired of you putting off the inevitable. I think you have some hard decisions to make, Greyson. And me being here isn’t making them any easier for you.”
Our eyes catch. I could kiss him now, so easily. Let him kiss me back. I could let the kiss make everything OK. Turn logic into feeling, impossible into possible, make everything right—for now at least. But it would only be a temporary distraction from the shadow hanging over all this.
“Goodbye Greyson,” I say, as I leave.
The next second, he’s by my side. “Harley. Don’t go. We can figure this out. I can figure this out.”
Don’t look at him, don’t you dare look at him… or notice how good he smells… or how much you want him…
As I tear myself away a second time, I choke back my next words: “I’m sorry.”
And then I’m hurrying through the restaurant, down the stairs, down the street to get away. Until I spot a cab, and then I’m in there, going home, and it all feels unreal. So unreal. Like this is something I’ve concocted in my mind back there at the restaurant. Like Greyson may lean over and kiss away the trouble any second now.Chapter 27Greyson
I sit there for a minute, maybe more. Wait for her to come back, to change her mind. To sweep towards me and change this all with a smile, a kiss.
She never comes back.
I call her, but it goes straight to voicemail.
The worst part is that she’s right. The company will probably be vulnerable for another year, at least. Can we really lie low that entire time?
And people aren’t so easily swayed by what their boss tells them to do, especially if they’ve lost respect for that boss based on his actions. While I’m sure talking to my staff will get them to straighten up, part of me wonders if it will be enough, if it isn’t genuine. Harley hates fakeness, won’t like it, will see right through it.
Maybe the Storm office isn’t the place for her.
But I can’t let her go.
My phone goes off, and I answer it without looking.
“You coming?” Nolan asks. “I got the kale chips.”
“Oh, right.” I’d forgotten all about the comedy act I agreed to participate in. Almost missed it. Damn, I really am slipping. “Now’s not really the best time.”
I’ve got the beginnings of a pounding headache, and I’d like to try giving Harley another call.
“Dude, save the jokes for the stage!” Nolan’s voice is incredulous. “I had the graphic designer put your face on the poster—you can’t bail now!”
“You know you’re fine without me.”
“Yeah, I’m fucking hilarious without you, but not hilarious enough to cover the big gaping absence of your face. Come on.”
I rise from the table. “Fine. I’ll be there in 15.”
“That’s the reliable big brother I know and love.”
I get there in 10, trying to call Harley on the way. But it’s no dice. The only part of her I have now are her words, echoing with a truth I don’t like. A truth I can’t accept.
Maybe we don’t know what this is, but that doesn’t mean we can’t make it work.
The comedy club is packed, and my brother waves me over. “Just the man I was looking for! Look at the two lovely ladies I have with me.”
He’s gesturing to a redhead and a raven-haired woman, both wearing badges that say PRESS. Behind them, Nolan winks at me. I’ve got his message loud and clear: This is our chance for some more good publicity for Storm Media. Though I’m not at all in the mood.