Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Danny’s fingers drummed the table as if he were the anxious one in this situation. I could feel his stare on me from across the table.
Right across the freaking table.
I had been last to arrive for dinner, and apparently, someone thought this would be funny. Let’s sit the exes across from each other—watch them squirm. Calla had shot me an apologetic look from her seat next to me, but it didn’t make me feel any less betrayed.
“I heard ratings tanked after the second season. They really can’t replicate us,” Sofia said, sipping a glass of wine, her long fingers curled around the stem.
Grant grinned. “Of course not. We’re one of a kind. Plus, we had a celebrity,” he said, referring to Eli and his A-list actor father, whom he no longer kept in contact with.
Eli scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I was hardly a celebrity.”
“The novelty has worn off. That’s all,” Rachel added. “They’ll eventually find a cast who connects with the audience better than we did.”
Sofia snorted. “I’d like to see them try.”
My focus drifted between the conversation and actively trying not to look at Danny.
The restaurant Eli had picked was lovely, all vibey and intimate, and the top floor where we were sitting had sweeping views of LA. It was a warm spring night, and twinkle lights lined the rafters of the outdoor gazebo. It would have felt magical under any other circumstance.
“They didn’t do as good a job tricking people this season. A few definitely knew, maybe even asked someone to sign them up,” Arnie said.
“They’ll figure out how to get viewers. They always do,” Calla said.
It was then that I realized I’d been abnormally quiet. Danny hadn’t said anything either, but that wasn’t strange for him. I searched my brain for something to add to the conversation.
“When are all y’all flying out?” I asked.
“Tomorrow, first thing. I can’t wait to get out of here,” Rachel said before shifting her gaze to Grant and Sofia, who were local. “No offense.”
“Not everyone can handle LA,” Sofia said with a shrug.
Calla and Eli shared a look. “I’ve got a few meetings lined up with some producers,” Eli said.
“He’s working on his next movie.” Calla leaned into him, looking every bit as content and in love as I’d expect her to be.
“What about you, Trace?” Rachel asked.
“Um, tomorrow, I think.” Now that Brady had cornered my mom about the new dating show he wanted me to join, there was a chance we’d have to change our flight to iron out some details. I wasn’t looking forward to it.
“Danny?” Eli asked.
“Tomorrow.” His deep voice broke my intense focus on not looking at him. And when I turned my head, he was already staring at me out of the corner of his eye.
What was his problem? Was he trying to torture me?
The clinking of a glass at the other end of the table saved me. “I’d like to propose a toast,” Arnie said, raising his glass. “I never dreamed I’d be in the midst of such successful friends. Calla, congrats on your new book. And of course, Trace. I’m obsessed with your album.”
“He can’t stop listening to it,” Rachel said.
“Same here,” Calla added.
“Thanks so much.” I sipped my wine, but when the liquid hit my tongue, I only tasted bitterness and heat.
I never used to be like this. Compliments had never made me uncomfortable before.
But ever since my quick rise to fame and equally quick plateau, I was constantly worried about falling off.
It was too easy to assume anyone who praised me wasn’t being sincere.
The imposter syndrome raged, no matter how hard I tried to quell it.
Grant leaned in from the other end of the table, where he sat across from Sofia. “And we can’t forget about Danny-boy’s documentary. Skiing backcountry in the mountains? Just trying to make yourself look like even more of a badass, huh?”
Danny rolled his eyes, sitting back in his chair and folding his thick forearms across his chest. “Thank you, Grant. That was the exact reason we filmed it.”
We all raised a glass in response to Arnie’s toast. My throat closed up. I took another sip of wine.
“I’m excited for y’all’s wedding. Have you got all the plans ironed out?” I turned to Calla, desperate to change the subject.
“Almost. Neither of us wanted anything huge,” Eli said, slinging an arm around Calla’s shoulder as she smiled up at him. She looked like she felt safe. I was happy for her, after everything she’d been through.
“I can’t believe I scored an invite,” Sofia said.
“I can’t believe she did either,” Grant said.
“Hey!”
“Oof.” Grant toppled sideways and it was obvious Sofia had kicked him under the table.
“You were part of a very unique experience in our lives. We want you all there,” Calla said.
Chatter continued around the table, and I tried to get lost in it.
When the food arrived, I found myself taking small bites and mostly pushing it around my plate.
My mind wouldn’t stop swimming from the stress of the day.
First seeing Danny and staying composed for the reunion, now the pressure to do another freaking reality show.
As soon as my mom had brought up the label, I knew I wouldn’t be able to get out of it.
“You okay?” Danny’s deep voice whispered.
“Fine,” I said, smiling.
“You’re hardly eating.”
“I’m not that hungry.”
“It must have been hours since you ate last.”
My fingers tightened around my fork. The nerve of him to be observant. To act like he cared.
“Well, maybe I’m feeling a little queasy,” I said. My smile didn’t fade despite the glare I tried to shoot him. The rest of the table continued to talk animatedly, oblivious to our tension.
His jaw strained at that. He leaned in even further, his voice lower now. “You’re not really considering what Brady suggested, are you?”
And just like that, my stomach flipped right into my throat. I could smell him, that familiar scent. His eyes focused unwaveringly on me. Suddenly, it was all too much.
Ignoring Danny’s question, I pulled out my phone from my purse, pretending to read a message. “Shoot. My label is trying to get a hold of me. I really need to take this.”
“You’re leaving?” Calla asked, standing.
“I’ve got to. But it was so fun catching up.”
Rachel and Arnie stood and came around to give me a hug. “You’re still coming to New York in the fall to see me perform, right?” she asked.
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
I rushed through the goodbyes, just waving at Grant and Sofia, and using that as an excuse to just wave at Danny, too.
“Trace,” he said, trying to reach out and capture my hand as I left. But I snatched it away, evading him and rushing down the stairs. I didn’t stop until I was through the front entrance and standing on the street corner outside.
The warm air, so pleasant earlier, now felt too hot. The thin jacket I wore lay flat, plastered to my skin.
“Trace!” I heard the sound of hurried steps behind me.
Shit.
I whirled around to see Danny standing there, the door to the restaurant swinging shut behind him. Me completely breathless, him completely composed. As always. Me, out of sorts, and him, in control.
“What do you want?” My nonchalant demeanor was now cracked. It was useless. He could see everything in my eyes. Every emotion was right there on my face, easy to read and easy to take advantage of.
Danny stepped forward, filling the space directly in front of me, taking away all my oxygen in the process.
How could he do this to me? He knew how much I cared, could see it no matter how much I covered it up. Yet he still insisted on torturing me.
He faltered for a second, seeing my reaction, but he took another step toward me anyway. I couldn’t get myself to back away if I wanted to. The pull to him was too strong.
“You look good. I meant to tell you that when I first saw you.” His words were a gruff whisper.
“I can’t believe this…” A small laugh escaped me as my head tipped back. I searched the night sky for a second, the darkness littered with city lights. The break from his stare offered little relief.
When I returned my eyes to his, they were pained. Desperate.
“Is that all, Danny? Because I’d like to go back to my hotel room and get some rest. It’s been a long day.”
“You’re not doing that show, right?”
“Why shouldn’t I?”
“You know damn well why.” His jaw tensed, locked so hard it seemed ready to snap.
I scoffed, shaking my head. “I know? I know? I don’t know anything when it comes to you.
” The steadiness had returned to my voice.
Numb—that’s what had descended over me. Because who the hell did this man think he was?
Break my heart over and over again, only to turn up here and tell me how to live my life?
He let out a grunt, shaking his head and swiping a hand over his chin. “Yes, you do. You know, Trace.”
After all these months he still chose to speak in riddles. He couldn’t just be up front with me. “You’ve got a lot of nerve coming after me like this.”
We stared in silence for a second.
“I’ll always come after you.”
“If only that meant something.”
He’d always had a real knack for saying things that sounded amazing but panned out to be absolutely nothing.
“Let’s go somewhere else. We need to talk.” He reached out, his fingers grazing my wrist. That touch snapped me out of whatever trance he had me under.
I yanked my arm away and took a step backward.
“Leave me alone, Danny. I mean it. Whatever I choose to do with my life is none of your business. I’ve given you too many chances. No more.”
“Trace—”
“No. The way we are? That was your choice. You broke things.”
“I know that. But I need to fix them!” he replied, frantic now.
Thankfully, the car I’d ordered chose that moment to pull up to the curb.
Without a glance back, no matter how hard it was not to look, I slid into the back seat and slammed the door closed behind me. I could barely make out Danny’s strangled, “Fuck,” before the soft background jazz of the car stereo took over.
I clenched and unclenched my fists, barely able to breathe until the car pulled away. Chancing a peek out the tinted window, I saw Danny, still standing there, running his hands through his hair like he might tear it out. He kept his gaze on the car. On me.
My eyes shifted to the ceiling of the car as the driver wordlessly drove me to my hotel.
Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.
Danny couldn’t have the same pull over me now as he’d once had. This wasn’t healthy. I couldn’t be so enamored with him that it stopped me from moving on with my life.
Our moments together had been fleeting. Short-lived. Just a blip in this crazy universe. And yet…he still consumed me.
Well, not anymore. Life was full of choices, and I was making the conscious effort and choice not to let Danny Miller affect me from here on out. Next time we saw each other, he would be a stranger to me.
And he couldn’t tell me what to do. I was doing that show.
The idea itself might not excite me, but it could help my career.
Maybe, if my label was happier with my numbers, I’d get more artistic freedom.
Who knows? Maybe I could even meet someone nice.
Was the idea really so wild? That someone out there might choose me? Want me?
It was partially my fault I hadn’t met anyone. I’d let myself get tangled up in him. Begged him to pick me, and he still hadn’t.
I’d never ask Danny for anything ever again. I was doing that show. And I’d move on and forget he ever existed, if it was the last thing I did.