Chapter 3
CHAPTER 3
I cross my arms, cocking a hip against Taylor’s desk.
He doesn’t look up.
I give him a moment to acknowledge my presence, to say anything at all, really.
But he continues tap, tap, tapping away on his keyboard, pretending I’m not hovering mere inches overhead. We haven’t exchanged a single word since the Havens left this morning. Though that may be par for the course on any normal day, normal today is not.
Part of me wants to wait until my presence drives him to the brink of madness and he’s forced to shoo me away, but who knows how long that will take. I have things to do and a cramp forming in my right buttcheek. So, I ask what I’ve been dying to all morning:
“What are you going to submit?”
Taylor takes his time rolling his eyes up to mine. He pushes his chair back, an unkind smile tugging at his lips. I reach out a hand, grabbing onto the metal arm before he can wheel away. The position forces me to lean over him, bringing our faces far too close for comfort.
“I can’t imagine why that would be your business.” He holds my gaze, pretending our position hasn’t completely knocked him off-kilter.
Or, maybe that’s just me.
“And I can’t imagine why a wannabe agent would benefit from a summer in Italy.”
That’s the crux of it—I don’t just want this opportunity, I need it to advance my career. Taylor? He’s made enough connections schmoozing with the Havens’ inner circle that he could probably transition into an agency tomorrow. No, he doesn’t need this opportunity. I bet he only wants it to fuck with me.
Taylor doesn’t take my bait. “You’re going to write another script, aren’t you? Drop it off on Adoria’s desk praying she’ll actually read it this time. Gosh, how many screenplays has she ignored now? Four? Five?”
I purse my lips. “As a matter of fact, that’s exactly what I plan to do.”
Taylor jerks his chair forward, upsetting my hold on it. I tumble off his desk while he returns to his normal position. “I don’t know why you bother,” he mutters, fixing the stack of papers I knocked over. “She hasn’t liked any of the others.”
His comment stings as much as he hoped it would. No, maybe it stings more.
Because it’s true.
I have lost count of the number of times I’ve asked Adoria to read my work. She always promises she will…until she’s presented with a finished screenplay. And then she’s suddenly too busy. Or too tired. Sometimes, I’m brushed off without the courtesy of an excuse. And I’m not sure what’s worse—that my boss can’t feign interest in the one thing that matters to me, or that Taylor has somehow noticed.
“At least I know what I’m going to do.” I lift my brows, gazing down at him so there’s no mistaking what I really mean. I have talent. You do not. Ha. Ha. Ha.
Taylor shrugs, pushing his hands behind his head as he leans back in his seat. The pose is supposed to project self-assuredness. Like he doesn’t have a care in the world. I hate myself a little bit for believing it.
“ Or maybe I know exactly what I’m going to do, Montes. Maybe I’m keeping it close to my chest so my competition doesn’t get a leg up.” He glances at me out of the corner of his eye. “But go ahead, continue pouring your heart out. I might even pretend to care.”
“You’re going to care a whole lot when I spend the summer in Italy and you’re stuck riiight here.”
“Have you talked to your therapist about these delusions of grandeur?”
“Does your therapist even return your calls?”
Taylor blows out his breath, like this conversation is costing him valuable brain cells. “If I were you, I would start getting used to the taste of failure. Because I’m winning that trip.” He meets my burning gaze with one of his own. “I might not have a talent like yours, Montes. But at least people want me around.”
His words bruise, but watching him turn back around is somehow worse. He continues typing on his computer like our conversation didn’t even phase him. Like he hadn’t just dealt a final blow.
I cross the room with leaden feet, ignoring the gaping wound in my chest. Give it to Taylor for saying what most people would not:
The truth.
Even—no, especially —when it hurts.
I might have a year and a half on him, but the Havens have taken to his presence in a way they never did to mine. Victor speaks to him like he’s a person , not just an assistant. He’s becoming their confidant, and I’m…well, I’m just trying to remind them I exist.
That’s the worst thing about working alongside Taylor. I’m reminded every single day how different the two of us are.
And every single day, I question why I used to be in love with him.