Chapter 5
Marissa
When Bryce, with that charming yet mischievous smile, asks me to join him for dinner, my heart hiccups in my chest. I hesitate, memories of that long-ago crush are making me wary.
After Bryce left that night without a word, I knew then that he didn't want me. I was hurt, of course, but I mean, you can't exactly force someone to like you back if they don't feel the same way.
"Come on, Marissa. It's just dinner. Two old friends catching up," he says when I just gape at him like a weirdo, his tone light and inviting.
Old friends. Right.
Bryce stands casually, unaware of the turmoil his invitation has stirred up inside me.
I search his face for any sign he remembers how he brushed me off back then, but his eyes hold nothing but friendly warmth.
Finally, I relent with a tentative nod. "Sure, why not?"
His grin widens. I hope he can't hear the slight quiver in my voice.
Act normal. You've got this. Just two old friends catching up.
"Great! It's a date, then."
The word "date" sends a ripple of unease through me. But I shove the discomfort aside, convincing myself that it's just a friendly dinner, nothing more.
Bryce doesn't like me that way.
Picking up my bag, I follow Bryce as he leads the way to his black Aston Martin. The way his muscles flex beneath his shirt has me wondering if he's secretly been moonlighting as a superhero.
I mean, those biceps could definitely save the day, or at least carry in the groceries without a second trip.
But then again, who needs a superhero when you've got a guy with a smile that could melt ice cream on a winter day? He holds the door for me like a gentleman, and I slip in with a sheepish smile on my face.
If he keeps this up, I might just have to start practicing my damsel in distress routine.
We arrive at the restaurant in no time. The dim lighting and soft music give the restaurant an intimate vibe that makes me fidget nervously with the hem of my shirt. I avoid his gaze, not wanting my bashfulness to show through my eyes.
The waitress greets us with a warm smile. "Table for two?"
Bryce nods. "Yep, just the two of us."
The waitress glances between us, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "A couple's night out, huh? How adorable!"
My cheeks flush with a sudden heat, and I quickly interject, "Oh, no, we're not ... uh, we're just friends."
Bryce's lips quirk up in a knowing smile and lets out a low chuckle. "You're turning as red as a tomato, Marissa. Are you sure there's nothing you want to tell me?"
"It's really not like that," I mumble, eyes downcast. My nerves make my voice waver slightly, despite my attempt at nonchalance.
Bryce leans closer to me with an amused smile. "If you say so. But you should see how flustered you look right now."
The waitress grins. "Alright, just friends. I’ll give you two a moment to decide on your orders."
The moment she walks away, Bryce gets a teasing glint in his eyes. "You really need to work on your poker face."
"I can’t help it if I’m not a master of deception like you."
He laughs, and the rich baritone sound sends a shiver down my spine.
"Fair point. But seriously, it's just dinner. No need to be so on edge."
I stare down at the tablecloth. How can he joke so lightly about this? Does he truly not recall how he rejected me?
I exhale, trying to relax into the moment. "I know. It's just ... it's been a while, you know?"
"Yeah, I get it. But hey, we're just two people catching up. No pressure."
The waitress returns, and we place our orders.
As we wait for the food, conversation drifts between work, life, and the occasional shared memory from our high school days. It's almost like we're being careful and choosing to avoid the elephant in the room.
"Remember when you told me that you spilled the solution all over your lab partner in chemistry class?"
I groan. "Really, Bryce? You're going to bring up high school mishaps now?"
Bryce can't resist poking at boundaries, as usual.
"Come on, it was hilarious. He looked like a neon alien for a week."
"Okay, fine. But that doesn't mean you get a free pass to embarrass me all night."
It's so easy to talk to him like this, even though I can't shake the emotions warring inside me. The hurt from the past, the wavering feelings, and the indisputable charm of the guy sitting across from me.
As the night progresses, the layers peel away. Bryce shares snippets of his life, the challenges of stardom, and the constant scrutiny from the media.
And then, as the waitress brings the check, he leans back, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Marissa, about tonight ..."
I stiffen. I'm unsure of what's coming next, so I brace myself.
"... thanks for coming with me."
His sincerity catches me off guard, and for a minute, the walls I've built begin to crumble. "Well, it's just dinner, right? No big deal."
He nods. "No big deal. But I appreciate it."
I manage a smile. The fluttering in my chest won't stop, and I have to remind myself to breathe. His words replay in my mind and a warmth spreads through my chest that I haven't felt in so long.
"Yeah, I'm just glad you're okay."
"What happened today was just the usual drama."
"Well, you're the king of drama, aren't you?"
He chuckles, appreciating my attempt to lighten the mood. "Guilty as charged. Thanks for being the voice of reason."
"It's what I'm here for. Just focus on making movie magic. And who knows, maybe this movie will win you an Oscar."
He playfully rolls his eyes. "Ah, the elusive Oscar. Maybe one day."
Taking a deep breath, I gather the courage to broach a question that has been nagging me since Amanda assigned me as his assistant. "Bryce, can I ask you something?"
He nods, a curious expression in his eyes. "Of course. What's on your mind?"
My throat tightens. I avert my gaze, stalling to find the right words.
"Well ..." I begin, meeting his eyes briefly before dropping them back to the table. "I was just wondering ... why did you request me specifically to be your assistant?" I hold my breath, bracing for his reaction.
"Honestly, I knew you would be the perfect person for the job. I've always known you to be organized and efficient, and I thought that would be invaluable for the project."
I nod slowly, a lump forming in my throat. My hands twist together in my lap as I struggle to find the right words.
"I see," I murmur. "Well, thank you for clarifying. I'm honored you think so highly of my skills."
I force a small smile, hoping it masks the swirl of emotions inside me. Of course, that's why he requested me. There was no deeper meaning to his request. He simply saw me as the perfect assistant to help manage this important project.
Professional. I'm here to do a job, nothing more.
Bryce reaches across the table, placing a comforting hand on mine. "Marissa, I hope you know how much I appreciate everything you're doing for me. It means a lot."
His touch sends a jolt of electricity through me, and I struggle to maintain a casual demeanor despite the butterflies in my stomach.
"I know, Bryce."
The way he looks at me with those soulful eyes, I feel like he can see right through my facade. The feelings I've tried so hard to bury come rushing back all at once.
I can't let myself get carried away. I cannot let Bryce Alston's charm sweep me off my feet, not again.