9 Months Ago
9 MONTHS AGO
I smooth down my hair, making sure to straighten my blazer before I turn the Havens’ front doorknob.
Rose told me I was being silly, that I shouldn’t be so nervous.
But it isn’t every day you meet someone you’ll be working with for the foreseeable future.
I know a grand total of three things about the Havens’ new assistant:
That he is a he.
That he aced their interviews.
And that he came highly recommended.
I hope he’s nice. And a little dumb. Someone who’ll be easy to work with, but isn’t interested in competing with me. I’ve heard too many assistant-related horror stories. Half of them begin and end with someone else stealing the other’s spotlight.
I hear voices in the Havens’ kitchen and give myself an internal pep talk as I march down the hall.
Hi, I’ll say, I’m Ayla. I’m looking forward to working with you.
Or maybe: Hey there. I’ve heard a lot about you.
“Hello,” I whisper under my breath, making sure my pitch is just right.
I turn the corner, fixing my best smile to my face.
The top of a brown head of hair is leaning over the kitchen counter, studying something on Victor’s phone. Both of the Havens are smiling—a good sign, I think.
I note that the new assistant seems to be tall. With wide shoulders and tan skin a shade lighter than my own.
“Hi,” I start, announcing myself with a wave. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m—”
The rest of my sentence sticks in my throat when the new assistant turns around. And a pair of the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen lock onto mine.
The same pair of eyes I have dreamt about for the last decade.
“Hey,” Taylor says, giving me the same exact smile I’ve imagined hundreds of times now. “Ayla, right? It’s nice to put a face to the name.”
I can’t speak. Can barely think. He pushes to his full height, stepping around the Havens so he can face me. He reaches out a hand, and I know I’m meant to take it, to be charming and polite.
But the best I can do is grip his fingers in a weak excuse of a shake. “And you’re Taylor.”
He grins, confirming what I already know. “Thank you again for the opportunity,” he says, turning back to the Havens. “I’m excited to be here.”
And I feel like my heart is about to leap out of my chest. I shuffle closer to my bosses, trying not to stare at Taylor. At a boy I haven’t seen in so long I assumed we’d probably never meet again. But he’s here. And the butterflies in my stomach seem to think it’s fate.
“These are just divine, Ayla,” Adoria intones, gesturing at the aluminum tin I placed on their countertop last night. I made a batch of brownies just for today, a welcome gift of sorts for the new hire.
My cheeks burn red. The gift feels like a different gesture entirely now that I know who the new hire is. It takes me right back to high school. To a gymnasium and crowded stands.
I glance at Taylor, search his face for any hint he recognizes me. His answering grin is pleasant but blank. I tell myself it’s better this way. That we get a fresh start. He might not remember me from high school, but I get to introduce myself to him as I am now.
“You simply must have one,” Adoria continues, pushing the brownie tin toward Taylor. “It’s Ayla’s famous recipe. What did you tell us, dear? That you’ve been perfecting it since high school?”
Something in Taylor’s eyes changes. An emotion flashes through his gaze I’m unable to identify. He turns and Adoria offers him a plate. His spine goes taut as he takes in my treat, and I wonder what he’s thinking. It must look silly to him—my brownies coated with extra sugar, nestled in a bed of pink tissue paper. The shade matches the lid of my tin, a detail that’s become my little trademark. Ever since Rose complimented it sophomore year, I’ve used the same checkered packaging for all of my creations.
For a moment, Taylor doesn’t speak a word. Just stares and stares at the brownies. Adoria’s hand falls, setting the plate back onto the table. The sound startles Taylor from his thoughts. He turns, flashing my bosses a look of chagrin.
“Looks delicious. Unfortunately, I don’t have much of a sweet tooth.”
I’m tempted to ask him what’s changed. I know for a fact he was the first one to reach for the homemade cookies or a soda after basketball games. Many of his gifts from fangirls included a candied something.
“I’ll go sugar-free next time,” I say with a smile “I know a great pound cake recipe.”
I brace myself for Taylor’s dimple…but it doesn’t come. When he turns to regard me, his face is tight. Though his lips curl at the edges, his smile is empty. Any trace of kindness has been wiped away, leaving him almost unrecognizable.
The air whooshes out of my throat as a strange kernel of foreboding takes root in my gut. I can practically feel my stomach dip, like I’m at the top of a rollercoaster, seconds from the free fall.
Taylor is no longer looking at me the way he had moments ago. New awareness has entered his eyes. His gaze doesn’t suggest that he recognizes me. No, it’s more like he knows me, has assessed every part of my being. And doesn’t like what he’s found.
I feel myself taking an inadvertent step back when the Havens meander out of the room, leaving Taylor and me behind. It’s everything I had once wished for. But there’s a chill radiating off of him that has me running my hands down my arms.
“Um, would you like me to show you to the office? I can help you get all your equipment ready.”
He breathes out through his nose, like it’s taking all of his patience to reply. “The Havens gave me a list of passwords, so I should be set. But if you could lead the way…”
He gestures at the door, and I get a strange, unpleasant taste in my mouth. Something tells me Taylor’s reaction wasn’t as polite as it seemed. I don’t know why, but it almost feels like I’m being dismissed. Like he’s eager to leave this kitchen, to put some distance between us.
“Okay,” I squeak, hating how timid I sound. I was shy in high school, but all these years in Hollywood have hardened me. At least I thought they had.
But I don’t feel brave as Taylor trails me down the hall. I can’t think of any topics for small talk, and he doesn’t try to engage me in conversation. We walk in silence until I usher him into the office he’ll soon be calling a second home.
We fill the room with the sounds of clicking keyboards and shuffling steps. And it’s nothing at all like I imagined it would be. Taylor and I meeting after a decade was supposed to come with all the easy warmth of our first introduction. But the silence between us is ice cold.
“Let me know if you have any questions,” I try, turning around in my seat. Taylor doesn’t glance up from configuring his new inbox. “I’m, um, looking forward to working with you.”
Perhaps I am brave, because I manage to form my next sentence even after his lips pull down into a frown. “It’ll be nice having someone my age around. I haven’t had any friends to commiserate with.”
This time he does glance up. And something breaks within me when Taylor Hedlund meets my gaze. Because I know without a shadow of a doubt the boy from my dreams is gone.
Without our bosses present, he makes no effort to conceal his true feelings. The look he gives me is teeming with irritation. I might as well be a pebble in his shoe. I might as well not exist.
He doesn’t bother replying. But his thoughts are as clear as if he uttered them aloud:
We will never be friends.