I didn’t think I’d make it until Saturday, though. I’d have to end things sooner than that.
I bet Ash would feel grateful to me for it, too. And I bet Lola wouldn’t have any problem with it. I’d already served my purpose. I’d given them tons of juicy photo ops, from corny romantic rom-com shots to X-rated, forbidden moments nearly captured on film. Titillating and suggestive, they’d really gotten their money’s worth from me in Paris.
The world had already seen Ash propose to me. He’d done it up on a freaking stage, televised on a giant screen. How had I gone and let myself believe any of it?
Well. I was an idiot. But the idiot had woken up.
It was a good thing I’d awakened and overheard Ash and Connor. They’d done me a real favor. Had I not heard them, I almost definitely would have made things much worse—for Ash and for me. In a long car ride to S.F., I probably would have started babbling about how I’d never felt that way before and I really, truly loved him. The silence after dropping that bomb would have pretty much killed me.
No, it was better this way. This silence was at least all my own. I didn’t have to add a whole bunch of humiliation into the mix. A broken heart was enough.
Somehow, I had to make it back to S.F. Once we were there, I’d find a way to end it exactly the way our contract demanded. I’d find a horribly public spot to do it. I was sure Lola would help arrange the necessary cameras in place to capture the moment. I’d break up with Ash and fling that outrageously large rock he’d given me right in his handsome face. He’d pretend to be broken-hearted.
Then I’d fly back to New York and begin the process of tending to my own truly broken heart. The thought of it all nearly drove me into sobs, but I told myself to wait on those. There’d be plenty of time to sob into my pillow, night after night without Ash to sob to my heart’s content.
Right now, though, I had to deal. I’d never been a good actress, but I just had to get through the next day or so and then I’d be able to go back to life as it had been before I met Ash. I just wished the thought didn’t rip me to pieces.
28
Ash
Hungover as hell, I woke with a groan the next day. Around noon, I had to guess, with the way the sunlight shone in full and brash, burning my eyelids. Someone had pulled apart the curtains in the bedroom. Was it Ana?
I reached for her in the bed but found nothing but tangled sheets. Where was she?
Groaning, I threw my hand over my eyes. What the fuck? I hadn’t felt this way in a while. A month, to be exact. I couldn’t remember a time in my life when I’d gone that long without parting to the max. I also couldn’t remember why it was exactly that I used to do this stupid shit to myself all the time. Ugh. I felt like I’d swallowed a mouthful of ashes from the fireplace.
Padding to the bathroom, I managed to get myself some water. How had I ended up getting so shitfaced? Bits and pieces from last night flashed dimly through my slow-moving brain. Ana with a large plate of pasta. Some girl’s boobs. Connor swinging off the chandelier.
Connor. We’d had a good talk last night, hadn’t we? But something felt off. Something still needed sorting out.
But first I needed water and some Advil. Lots of Advil. Like a truckload.
Staggering into the main room of the cabin, I found various other members of our crew draped across furniture like discarded items of clothes after a striptease. One of the girls sat on the floor, her legs stretched out across the wooden planks, her back resting against the couch. Johnny lay strewn across the couch, his sunglasses firmly in place.
“Ugh.” He groaned over to me.
“Hmg.” I groaned back. More water and a palmful of Advils later, I shuffled back into the main room searching for Ana. She hadn’t been partying with us last night, so surely she was already up. Just as I was about to ask anyone if they’d seen her, the door burst open letting in a sharp, cold blast of wind and, worse, blinding sunlight glinting painfully off of the endless snow outside.
Like vampires scalded by the light, we all put up our hands and shrank away. All Ana needed was a Holy Bible and a cross and we would have looked like the set of an epic monster movie.
“Oh, good! You’re up!” she cried out in an unnaturally loud voice. I cringed and she saw it. “Sorry,” she faltered, and thank God closed the damn door. Quieter, she added, looking at me. “We have enough gas in the car to get us to the nearest gas station. I don’t mind driving. If you want, we could—”
“S’all right, sweetheart,” Connor’s slurred brogue wafted up from behind a chair. I saw his feet sticking out. Apparently he was lying on the floor behind it. “Marvin’s flying us back at three.”
“Cool.” I nodded, grateful he’d made the arrangements. A flight would take an hour where driving would take four or five, and even sitting in a car seemed like too much effort to make at this point.
“Marvin?” Ana asked me, sounding unsettled and unsure.
“Yeah, yeah.” I waved away her misgivings. “He’s a good guy.”
She shook her head, as if that hadn’t been what she’d been worried about, but honestly, I needed to lie down again. Collapsing on a sofa, I did just that.
“So, we’re not driving?” Ana stood tapping her toe in the middle of her room. I swear, that toe tap echoed in my brain. I winced.
“C’mere, luv,” Connor called out from the floor. “Come relax with your buddy Connor.”
She spun off in a huff. I should go after her, I recognized that, but the gulf between what my brain told me to do and what my body could execute yawned wide.
“Gimme minute,” I murmured, slipping off again into sleep.
I woke with someone kicking my foot and yelling, “Pack it up! Ten minutes!”
Shit, I must have slept longer than I’d intended. The house was all activity, people scurrying back and forth, shoving things into bags. The kitchen was a mess and Ana was in there doing dishes.
“You don’t have to—” I called over to her as I headed into the bedroom. “Someone’ll come by to clean up after us.”
She scowled, didn’t look up at me and didn’t stop scrubbing. It looked like she was still in the bad mood from last night. Right then, though, I needed to pack.
Giant SUVs waited for us outside the cabin and taxied us over to the small, private airport.
“What about our rental car?” Ana asked.
“Someone’ll take care of it.” I hadn’t thought of it until she mentioned it, but I knew what I said was true. Probably the caretaker for the cabin. He’d find it sitting there, keys in the kitchen, and make sure it got returned to the rental agency. I had people to clean up all my messes. She just hadn’t realized that yet.
All of us wore dark sunglasses except Ana. None of us said much during the flight, including Ana. I tried to pull her over with me into my lap on the couch, but she pulled away saying she had to use the bathroom. When she came back she tucked into a seat by herself and closed her eyes.
“Arf,” Connor barked in my ear.
“Fuck off.” I swatted him, pushing him away.
“Looks like you’re in the doghouse, mate. She’s pissed at you.”
“Yeah,” I sighed. I was sure I’d done something, and almost equally sure that I deserved her ire. But there wasn’t a damn I could do about it on a small private plane with a bunch of people around us. Plus, I still felt like shit. There had been a time when I’d bounced right back from a heavy night. Now was not one of those times.
At the airstrip in S.F., things took a turn for the worse. Ana gathered up her bags and headed on her own to a car.
“Where are you going?” I caught up to her, pulling at her elbow. “Don’t you want to head back with me?”
“I’ve got a massive headache,” she apologized, not meeting my eye. “I think I’ll just go check into a hotel.”
“A hotel?” What was she talking about? She needed to come back to my place so we could sort things out and get back into our groove.
B
ut just then, Connor called out to me, “Remember, we’ve got that thing tonight. With those guys.”
Fuck, I knew what he was talking about. He and Johnny and I were supposed to meet with Lola, Joel and a couple of people from the Super Bowl halftime gig. Most of the arrangements would all get handled by other people, but they wanted to talk us through some of it and discuss the short list of possible guest appearances. Apparently for the biggest televised event of the year, The Blacklist wasn’t enough on its own. We needed some padding with other pop stars.
“Yeah, forgot about that. Listen.” I tried to pull Ana into my arms and she didn’t exactly wriggle away. Nor did she melt into my embrace. “Why don’t you go relax. Take a nap. And we can hang out after I do this meeting?”