15. Andrea
It turned out that the prospect of wearing my revenge dress and showing up at the City of Angels wrap party with my head high and Deacon on my arm came with a big side of nausea. Rationally, I could admire the sexy black dress Portia had fitted to me like a glove this evening and my hair left long down my back with chunky, soft curls. I could praise myself for drawing the perfect Taylor Swift cat eyes with my black eyeliner.
But emotionally, I was a big ball of anxiety. My overriding thought as we arrived at the private club the studio had obtained for the party was that I didn’t want to be here, period. Given the glorious way I’d started the day, both in Deacon’s bed and his shower, I had to assume it would end with things moving downhill in a horrific manner.
I swallowed hard as I took Deacon’s offered hand and stepped out of the back seat of the black SUV.
He looked incredibly handsome in black slacks and a dark sapphire button-up shirt. He kept the large lapels open enough to show part of his chest tattoo as well as an intricate silver chain. I’d never known a man who could pull off wearing jewelry—but rock-star chic presented sexy and edgy on Deacon.
He pulled me in close, inhaling at my ear, and whispered, “You are beautiful, Andrea. And your ex will taste regret over losing you the moment you walk in. Meanwhile, I’ll be the proudest guy in the room, knowing you’ve done me the honor of bringing me as your date.”
My smile was genuine. He’d certainly managed to dust off my self-confidence during the last twenty-four hours. Having him as a lover had been an incredible way to shed my insecurities, but more important was the way he made me feel like we were a team going into the party tonight, that he had my back.
What was crazy was I couldn’t ever remember having felt that way with my ex. It had been the “Jeff show” for so long, with me cheering him on in the background, that I’d forgotten what it was like to be with someone who allowed me into the light too.
“Thank you. I went into this weekend thinking this fake dating thing might be crazy, but I’m glad you’re here with me.”
“That makes two of us.” He bent down to press his lips to mine in a soft kiss, but it turned deeper in a hurry. When he pulled away, his intense gaze making me aware I wasn’t the only one affected. The shouts of our names pulled us from our trance.
Right. Showtime. The paparazzi went nuts with us showing up together and kissing in public. Yet, I had no regrets. Why should I mind publicizing my affection and attraction since it was the most authentic part of this weekend?
He took my hand firmly in his and led me to where security was holding open the front door.
Once inside, one of the show runners walked up with her headset on and a big smile. “I’m so happy you both are here. Wow, you look amazing, Andrea, and well, Deacon, I’m such a big fan. My name is Lexi.”
Deacon flashed what I’d call his stage smile and extended his hand. “Lovely to meet you, Lexi.”
Lexi seemed like she wanted to never let go. I knew the feeling.
She finally released his hand and glanced over her shoulder, sighing. “Uh, Jeff and Paula are already here.”
After Jeff’s text message last night telling me he wanted to talk when he got to the house and several subsequent calls and irate voicemails about Deacon being at our house, I had no desire to be in the same room with him. I don’t know where he got off being angry with me, but I refused to let anyone treat me that way, let alone someone who’d once professed to love me to his dying day.
Fixing a smile, I shrugged. “Thanks, Lexi. We knew he would be.”
“Have you decided if you’ll do your interview?” She appeared hopeful that I’d spill my guts in a one-on-one tonight. Anything for ratings.
“I haven’t decided, but I doubt it’ll happen during the party.” Emotions were running high enough, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to open up to the public about my marriage and everything that had gone wrong. Not that I owed any loyalty to Jeff, but it was awfully personal information to share.
My answer clearly disappointed her. “Okay, have a good time, okay?”
“Thanks.”
“Shall we get some drinks?” Deacon suggested.
“That would be wonderful.” We went to the bar.
A couple of the City of Angels cast members were gathered there, and their eyes went wide when they saw my date. Patrick, one of the other principals on the show and Jeff’s frenemy, blurted out, “Holy shit,” before grinning widely and chuckling.
He and Jeff had often butted heads over the last two seasons, both of their egos competing for airtime and the sanctimonious upper hand in the season. I imagined Patrick was enjoying this turn of events more than anyone else here.
While his date and another couple occupied Deacon with what I could only call fandemonium, Patrick clinked his martini glass against mine. “You having the balls to show up here tonight looking gorgeous in that dress is sweet enough. But bringing Deacon Miller as your date—who, by the way, looks, no offense, even hotter than you if I were to swing that way—takes the cake.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. Deacon was undoubtedly hot. “No offense taken.”
“Please tell me you’re returning next season? Would be nice to get to know you outside of Jeff.”
“I haven’t decided if I’ll come back. But thanks for the support, Patrick.” I’d found him harmless for the most part. Immature and hungry for camera time, but hindsight afforded me the ability to see Jeff had been the same way.
The next twenty minutes went about the same, conversing with various cast and crew while I paid no attention to Jeff, who was standing across the room talking with Paula, his obvious glare seldom leaving me or my date. He was dressed in black slacks and a white collared shirt which I’d normally say made him look handsome. But the yuck of finding out he’d cheated had altered the way I viewed him. As for Paula, she wore a short, sparkling dress, her long legs on display. She’d always been a pretty girl, but I’d yet to see her leave Jeff’s side during the party or act like she was having a good time.
I settled into an indifference toward the situation, surprised at how easy it was to ignore him. Ironically, this was the first party I could remember where I was actually connecting with others, probably because Jeff wasn’t dominating the conversation or steering it toward what he wanted to talk about.
Here was Deacon, with a hundred times the public attention and a bona fide A-list star, but in contrast, he would generously turn the conversation toward the other person talking, or to me. He was gracious, charming, and genuine.
“I’m running to the ladies’ room,” I whispered into Deacon’s ear and was surprised when he took the opportunity of my proximity to sneak a quick kiss.
“I’ll order you another drink and be waiting.”
It feels real.I wasn’t surprised by the thought as I walked away from him. I only wished I could’ve kept it tamped down deep enough inside that I didn’t actually think it and thus potentially ruin the perfect weekend.
Lest I forget, like Cinderella, this ball was over at the stroke of midnight. Then it was back to reality.
As I was doing my business in the stall, I heard the main door to the bathroom open. I didn’t think anything of it until Jeff’s voice rang out. “We need to talk, Andrea.”
“For fuck’s sake. I’m peeing.”
“I’ll wait.”
The absurdity of the moment nearly caused me to giggle. After I was done, I straightened my dress, took a deep breath, and walked forward to the sink to wash my hands, completely disregarding his presence.
“What the hell are you wearing?”
In the mirror reflection I caught his gaze angrily raking over my dress as though he had any right to the question. I refused to answer.
“You’re not speaking to me now?”
“I’m not responding to your asshole questions, no.”
“We need to talk,” he repeated, causing me to arch a brow.
“Then you do the talking because I have nothing left to say to you.”
He had the audacity to appear hurt. “This isn’t you, babe.”
The once familiar term of endearment turned my stomach. “Maybe it is now.”
His entire face softened. “I’ve been thinking, and I want us to go to counseling to work on our relationship. My mom called and said that our pastor will counsel us. Maybe we go home to Kansas for a couple weeks, ya know.”
Blink. Blink. He couldn’t be serious. “You cheated on me with someone I considered a friend, and you’re asking to go home and ‘work on some things’?” There hadn’t even been an apology, let alone any remorse.
“I still love you, Andrea. But you haven’t exactly been supportive of my band or the bar, and?—”
Oh, no, he didn’t. “Don’t you dare gaslight me and make excuses. I have been supportive in every single thing you’ve done. Even when it didn’t make money.” I’d been the breadwinner while he pursued his passions during our entire relationship.
He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I get to be a different person with Paula.”
Hindsight was a kick in the ass considering Paula practically hero-worshipped him and fed his ego. “I’m sure you do. And the truth is I don’t like that person you’ve become at all.”
“I can change, I promise. Seeing you with Deacon is killing me.”
Ah. Of course this was what was motivating his sudden hope for reconciliation. Like a kid who’d put down his favorite toy in favor of a new one, he’d been happy with the decision until the point he saw someone else pick it up.
Although I’d had no intention of releasing all of my pent-up resentment, he’d unleashed it. He had the nerve to think we’d simply go back to the way things had been because he was jealous of my trade-up?
“You threw away your integrity for a chance at fame. And when it came to choosing the person who loved you or this artificial life, you chose fame.”
“It’s not like it’s been easy. I’m being crucified in the media currently. The bar has one-star reviews before it’s opened.”
“And I’m what? Supposed to feel sorry for you? You’re a liar and a cheater, and what I’ve realized since you’ve been gone is I don’t miss you. Because you’re not the man I fell in love with, and I deserve better.”
It was true. I no longer viewed him as my future or a man I wanted to be around and I certainly didn’t miss him. Over the past few days, I’d started to realize I hadn’t been happy in my marriage in quite awhile.
“What, you have a rock star pretend to be your date, and suddenly you’re over me?”
“Wasn’t anything pretend about the way she stayed with me last night,” came Deacon’s voice from the door.
Jeff’s jaw clenched, his gaze ping-ponging between us. “This farce isn’t going to last.”
He wasn’t wrong, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of admitting it.
Deacon chuckled, taking a casual pose against the frame as only a sexy rock star could. “I suppose losing Andi would make any man bitter and grasping at straws.”
Jeff’s eyes bugged out, and he turned to me with accusation in his voice. “He calls you Andi?”
I’d never allowed even him to call me by that nickname, and it was clear how jealous he was in hearing it.
“Ready to go, Andi?” Deacon wasn’t above making the dig twice. Although I didn’t need the rescue, I appreciated it.
Jeff pivoted toward Deacon, bright red in the face. “You can see yourself out. I’m having a private conversation with my wife.”
“Ex-wife. You should get used to saying it,” I retorted. I was done with this and ready to get this man out of my life.
He practically snarled, “So this is how it’s going to be? You thinking you can treat me like you’re better than me just because you’re fucking him? Fine. I’m going to make your life hell and take you to court over every single item in the house, including the fucking dog.”
Deacon moved out of the doorway, allowing Jeff to storm past like the egotistical ass he was. I closed my eyes and refused to react to his threat. The problem was he’d already proven himself spiteful enough to carry through on it.
Deacon put his arms around me, rubbing my back. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have goaded him. I’m sure you had it covered, but when I saw him walk back this direction, I couldn’t leave you alone with him.”
“It’s just stuff.” Material things could be replaced. “At the end of the day, I’ll give him anything to keep Callie and be done.”