Chapter 36
Chapter Thirty-Six
I can’t tell the truth from the lies.
Charming men are a dangerous thing.
There were other girls.
I woke up the next morning to three messages in my inbox.
One of them was from Charlene, asking if I had seen the email. I rubbed the sleep from my face and checked my inbox. Sure enough, there was a message from Haller & Mark with a brief note that I had to read twice.
Due to unforeseen circumstances, the competition has been paused. The directors’ board will keep you updated on any developments.
My groggy head was too tired to make sense of it all. I splashed my face with water and decided I’d call Jeremy and May after coffee.
The next message was from Otis, reminding me that tomorrow was the premiere and that he’d murder me at least twice if I missed it. My stomach twisted when I saw the third message—from John.
He is gone.
Three words.
Such a small message. A bit of black text on a white screen. And yet, those words had the power to tip someone’s world. I pressed the phone to my chest. I didn’t know what John wanted to tell me last night, but I knew there was only one place I wanted to be right now.
So, I packed my bag and got on the bus to Chicago.
Four hours later, I arrived.
Seagulls swooped low. The dock was nearly empty. I told myself I was ready for whatever would happen. But after I rang the doorbell, I didn’t see the familiar handsome face I expected.
It was Vivian.
Her eyes sharpened as they landed on me. Her makeup was still in place, but that wasn’t what disturbed me most. It was that she was wearing his shirt.
And nothing else. It barely reached over her ass, highlighting her long, tanned legs.
I tightened my fists around the bag I’d brought for John.
“Really?” she said, folding her arms. “You think now is an appropriate time for you to show up here?”
Her icy tone hit me like a slap in the face.
“I…I just wanted to offer my condolences.”
Her features were both hard and full of pity. “John has enough to deal with.”
“I just want five minutes.” I crossed my arms, which was tricky while holding the bag, but I committed to it, holding my arm at an awkward angle. If you’d told me a month ago that I’d show up at John’s house with a rom-com on VHS and a bottle of whiskey, I would’ve spit-laughed in your face.
“Why?” Her well-manicured brow arched. Goddamn it, even in this light, there wasn’t a pore in sight.
“Because he’s my…friend.” My words sounded thin, childish, almost. An obvious lie. And we both knew it.
She let out a sigh, brushing her forehead before running her French-tipped fingers through the waterfall of blonde curls, craning her neck up and down the deck. “Nora, was it?”
“Yes,” I said tightly.
“Do you think you’re the first?”
“Excuse me?” I said, somewhat breathless.
“Do you think you’re the first?” She stepped closer, bare feet pressing against the threshold, a barrier between me and everything John. “He flirts. It’s part of his job. You’re not the first fan who’s gotten trapped in his dark eyes and pretty words.”
I wanted to say something. Anything. But she spoke faster.
“He is going to be my husband. He just…got carried away.”
I bit the inside of my cheek. I wanted to throw it in her face—that I knew. That he’d confided in me. But my words got stuck halfway. Because John had told me her secret in confidence. But the mention of other girls, real or not…it hurt.
“It was never going to last,” Vivian said, with something like pity in her voice. “He risked enough as it is.”
She glanced over her shoulder as noise traveled from inside. It sounded like it came from the kitchen. I wanted to call out but bit my tongue at the last moment. What if he didn’t want me here? What if this was really out of line? He would’ve called if he wanted to see me, wouldn’t he?
Defiance burned inside me. But I didn’t want to leave without speaking to him.
“He is a grown man. I think he can speak for himself.”
Vivian leaned against the doorframe, folding her arms so the fabric stretched, making it clear she wasn’t even wearing a bra.
“The last thing he needs right now is to be reminded of this god-awful competition. If you’re here for your five minutes of fame, I have to disappoint you.”
At that moment, John’s voice called from the inside. “Viv?”
Without breaking eye contact, she turned her face. “It’s just the press. Why don’t you go back to bed? I’ll be there in a sec.”
I knew—no, hoped—the words were just for show.
But there was a part of me that wondered…
wondered if it was true. I shook my head.
The possibility that this woman really was John’s future wife.
That he’d fooled me all along, knowing full well this would end with the competition…
but he’d texted me. When his dad was in the hospital, he texted me.
And her.
Maybe he didn’t think I would show. Maybe a hurt man just wanted someone to be there.
I forced my eyes not to drop to her bare legs. Forced myself not to imagine where and how and if he had touched her. Suddenly, I felt stupid. Making my way here to give him the City of Angels VHS I had found on eBay and immediately bought. Not thinking twice. I had only wanted to make him smile.
I was disgusted with myself.
A guy had charmed my pants off and distracted me from my future. It was exactly what I’d sworn would never happen.
Maybe the death of his father had reminded John of his own stakes.
I pressed the bag into Vivian’s hand.
“My condolences,” I managed. Then I turned and fled.