30. Dex
After everything that went down with Ava a year ago, I was having a lot of trouble staying…
well, sane. My anxiety was at an all-time high, and that’s really saying something.
I felt used, and objectified, and all I wanted to do was run into the arms of someone—anyone—who actually saw me and loved me.
But you know what? I came up empty.
My own mom doesn’t even know the real me. It’s not her fault, though. I still can’t bear to tell her the truth about this wretched disorder that fucks with my head and threatens my sanity.
I showed Sunny who I am in Paris, but she rejected me. Of all the people in the world, I thought she would be the one to love me despite my imperfections .
I was wrong.
I wonder if she’s with Jeremy now.
I Googled him the summer after they graduated law school. Sunny had mentioned the name of his firm in Chicago so, once his bio was up on their website, I found him easily.
He went to fucking Yale for undergrad. Graduated from law school with highest honors, just like Sunny. I already knew he was smart from what she’d told me about him—but the picture on his bio is what came as a shock to me.
He’s handsome. He has this smug look I’d love to wipe off his face, but there’s no denying he’s attractive, even by Hollywood standards. In a movie, he’d play the villain so smoldering hot, he makes you question which side you’re on.
There was a villain like that in the film I just made.
But I never get cast in those roles. For better or worse, I’m always the hero.
And as soon as I got to Vancouver and donned my metaphorical cape, it was like a switch flipped, and I was free.
After months of panic attacks, and nightmares about venomous Ava and her fiery hair, being in character had never felt so good.
But Vancouver’s a memory now, and I have to figure out a way to keep my shit together until my next project starts in a month.
Fuck .
After a restless night of sleep, I’m having a cup of coffee in the kitchen of my multimillion-dollar Hollywood Hills mansion—a relatively new purchase that still feels nothing like home to me—when my cell phone rings.
Holy shit.
It’s Sunny.
The last time we talked on the phone was …
My god, I don’t even know. More than a year ago. Before Ava.
Whatever she’s calling about must be…significant.
I stare at the phone vibrating in my hand, and I’m so fucking scared, I almost don’t answer it.
But what if she’s changed her mind about me?
“Hello?” It’s the first word I’ve spoken this morning, and it comes out raspy. I clear my throat.
“Hey,” she says softly. “Did I wake you? I know it’s pretty early in LA. Is that…is that where you are right now? LA?”
“Um, yeah,” I stammer. “I, uh, just got back yesterday. I was in Vancouver. Shooting something.”
It’s like there’s a complete disconnect between my brain and mouth, and I can hardly get the words out.
“How are you?” she asks me.
“Good. Good,” I lie. “You know, just busy and tired. The usual.” I really need to get the focus off me. “How are you doing, Sunny?”
I hear her swallow. “I’m good, Dex. I mean…I sort of hate my job. I’m sure lots of lawyers do. But other than that…”
She’s silent for several seconds. She takes a deep breath.
I close my eyes and brace myself for it.
“I’ve been so afraid to tell you this,” she begins. “While you and I were together, I promise you, I never had feelings for anyone else?—”
“Jeremy,” I say right away. Because that name has been seared into my mind since the day she first mentioned him to me. I knew back then exactly how this would end.
She sniffles. “I’m so sorry.”
I dial into Dex Oliver—and crank it up a notch. Several notches, actually. “Sunny, you have nothing to feel sorry about. I understand. Our lives are not…compatible.” I have to pause to swallow the bile in my throat. “And you and Jeremy…you make sense.”
She’s crying.
“Does he make you happy?” I ask, trying to control my breath. “Because all I want is for you to be happy.”
It’s true.
“Yes,” she says in between heaving sobs. “I’m happy.”
“You sound happy,” I tease.
She laughs. And cries. Then she gets quiet again.
“This is really hard for me, Dex. You’ll always mean so much to me…
and I don’t want to hurt you. But I know that news travels fast around Beachwood, so I wanted to tell you myself”—she sniffs—“before you heard it from anyone else. Um…Jeremy proposed to me last night. And I said yes.”
I mute the phone.
“ Fuck !” I yell so loudly, it echoes in the vast emptiness of this stupid fucking palace I live in all alone.
Then I unmute. “Sunny, I’m so happy for you,” I tell her. “That’s great news.”
She’s quiet for a beat. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.”
We exchange a few more pleasantries about work and family before we hang up.
Then I throw my $200 Hermès coffee cup across the room and watch it shatter into as many pieces as my heart.
Eventually, I clean the mess of splattered coffee and broken glass off the floor, then force myself to drink a protein shake—even though I feel like I’m going to be sick.
I lace up my sneakers and go for a ten-mile run to ward off what I know very well is coming.
There’s no escaping Ollie, after all. The best I can do is postpone the inevitable.
When I get back home, I lift weights for an hour.
Then I swim laps in my Olympic-sized pool until I’m so exhausted I feel faint.
But I can’t stop moving, and I definitely can’t take a nap because if I do, I’ll wake up sweating and panting and?—
I don’t even want to think about it.
So I choke down another protein shake and go to fucking Home Depot to buy paint, and brushes, and rollers for no other reason than I need something to keep my hands busy so they don’t start shaking.
I spend hours repainting my bedroom and, if I’m being honest, it looks like complete shit.
I’ve never painted a room before, and it shows.
But I’m done now. I’m lying still on my bed, in my quiet room, and all I can hear is the storm brewing inside me.
I can’t be alone tonight.
So I meet some actor friends at a celebrity hot spot—a place to see and be seen.
I do this because it means there will be eyes everywhere, watching me, and I’ll have no choice but to put on a show.
Dex Oliver will save me. He always does.
And so far, he’s doing a damn fine job. I’m eating and drinking.
Cracking jokes and laughing. There are a dozen of us sitting around a long table in the corner of a crowded restaurant, and my audience is on the edge of their seats.
I’m telling them about the elaborate prank my costars pulled during my first week on the set of Passions .
I’m just getting to the part that involves a hungry orangutan and an obscene amount of bananas delivered to my dressing room, when I look up and see a familiar face eyeing me from the bar.
Could it be?
Her cheeks flush, and she waves at me.
“Will you excuse me a moment?” I say to my friends as I stand to make my way to the bar.
She smiles when I take the seat next to her.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” I say.
She scrunches her nose. “You actually remember me?”
I tilt my head. “Are you kidding? There’s no way I’d forget you, Jenna Andersen.”
It’s been about nine years, but she looks exactly like I remember her from high school. Petite, fit. Tanned skin. Shoulder-length blonde hair. Olive green eyes. The same perfectly white smile.
I’d almost forgotten how pretty she is.
She takes a sip of her wine. Then another. She looks back at me and giggles. “I’m so incredibly nervous right now,” she says.
My brow furrows. “Nervous? Why?”
Her green eyes widen. “ Why ? Because you’re Dex Oliver , that’s why. The biggest movie star on the planet.”
I shake my head. “It’s just me, Jenna. I’m still the same person underneath it all.”
Ain’t that the truth .
She finishes what’s left in her glass and raises an eyebrow at me. “So fame hasn’t changed you one single bit?”
I pause for a beat to think about it. “Well…I do wax my chest hair now.”
She bursts into laughter. “That’s all, huh?”
“Pretty much.”
“You know, I came to this restaurant because I read it was a good place to see celebrities? I never thought I’d actually get to talk to one.” She smiles. “How are you not getting mauled by rabid fans right now?”
“That doesn’t usually happen at places like this,” I explain. “People are pretty respectful. But I do get mauled plenty, out in the wild.”
She looks around the room. “Do you ever get used to people staring at you so much?”
“For the most part.” I scratch my head. “So, do you live in LA, or?—”
She nods. “I do now. I just moved here from Pittsburgh, actually. I needed a fresh start.” She lets out a long sigh. “I went through a bad breakup recently. Which I guess is why I’m sitting here, drinking alone.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I tell her. “But you’re not alone now, you’re with me.” I point to her empty glass. “Want another?”
Her eyes light up. “ Please .”
I motion for the bartender to bring us two more glasses.
“So what do you do in LA when you’re not seeking out celebrities?” I tease.
She giggles. “I used to flip houses back in Pittsburgh, but the market isn’t as good for that here, so now I’m doing interior design.”
I nod. “Do you like it?”
She shrugs. “It pays the bills. So…how about you? I mean, I already know what you do for a living, obviously. But how’s life otherwise? Are you dating anyone?”
“No, not at the moment,” I tell her.
She swivels in her seat to face me and flips her hair, her eyes gleaming. “Can I ask you something?” she half-whispers.
I nod.
“Is it true you had a thing with Lola Piper? She’s my absolute favorite singer in the world. I’m a diehard Pipette,” she nearly squeals. “Did she really write the song ‘Rolodex’ about you?”
I look down and laugh. When I meet Jenna’s gaze, I give her a slight wink.
She gets it.
“Wow,” she says, shaking her head and beaming. “You’re like, the luckiest guy in the world.”
I drag a hand over my hair and sigh. “Honestly, Jenna? It sure doesn’t feel that way right now.”
Her forehead crinkles. “Why not? What’s the matter?”
The bartender returns with our wine and I take a sip. “Do you remember Sunny?” I ask after a beat.
Jenna nods. “Yeah, of course. You guys were thick as thieves back when we were in school. Honestly…I always sorta thought you were in love with her.”
I let out a wry laugh. “Yeah, well, that’s the problem. I still am.”
Even as I say the words, I’m surprised I’m talking to Jenna about this. But it’s so rare that I’m around someone who knew me before I was famous. Not to mention, we lost our virginity to each other. There’s a certain level of comfort between us, I guess. At least on my end.
“What happened?” she asks. “Were you guys together?”
I squeeze my temples. “We were on and off for years. But this morning, she called to tell me she’s engaged.”
“That sucks,” Jenna says with a pout. “You’re as miserable as I am.”
“I’ll drink to that,” I say, lifting my glass.
She clinks mine, then takes a giant sip from her own. “I’m done with love,” she says, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “I’ve been burned too many times.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask.
She looks down at her lap. “No...I don’t.” Then she smiles with her eyes. “But, thanks for offering.”
“Anytime.”
“What you can do is give me pointers on casual dating because, so far, it’s not going well for me.” She takes another drink. “I mean, I thought it would be easy. What guy wouldn’t be happy to just hook up, right? But every man I’ve been out with in LA wants us to be exclusive.” She rolls her eyes.
I laugh. “It’s the downside of being an attractive woman, I guess.”
She looks up at me with a playful smile. “What about you ? You’re pretty easy on the eyes…do you have this problem too?”
“Yeah, I’ve been there,” I tell her. “You’re basically screwed.”
She giggles. “Good to know—thanks.” She finishes her last bit of wine right as I’m finishing mine. “I’m so not used to being single,” she says, her smile fading. “I was always a relationship girl, and now…I get lonely a lot.”
I recognize the look in her eyes, and it crushes me. It’s like seeing my own dejected reflection in the mirror every night before I go to bed.
I lean in to whisper in her ear. “Why don’t you come home with me?”
When I pull back, she blinks a few times before answering. “Are you serious?”
I shrug. “Why not? You’re lonely, I’m lonely. We’re both brokenhearted, it would seem.”
She bites the emerging smile on her lip. “You do have a point…”
“I mean, we’ve already slept together—once. And we made out a lot more than that?—”
She laughs. “That was a long time ago. Speaking of which…I feel like I owe you an apology.”
“ Apology ? For what?”
“For saying ‘I love you’ after we had sex,” she says, bringing her palm to her forehead. “I was young, and na?ve. I didn’t even know what love was, yet. But I feel bad for putting you on the spot like that. And then, as soon as I got to college, I started dating someone else. I’m sorry.”
“Hey—don’t sweat it. Like you said, it was a long time ago.”
“Thanks,” she says with a sheepish grin. “It feels good to get that off my chest, though. So…are we really doing this?”
I smile. “It’s up to you. The offer’s out there.”
She flips her hair again. “And it stays casual, right? No strings attached? No feelings? ”
I nod. “Casual is really all I can do for now.”
She puts her hand on my knee. “Then let’s get out of here.”