One thing in all of this Duncan did know.
That was the truth.
With less bullshittery, Harv asked quietly, “Seriously, my man, what will it hurt?”
“It might hurt her,” Duncan said.
“I see this as a concern,” Harvey allowed.
“I think Corey and I have done enough, don’t you?” Duncan asked.
“Corey, yes. You…”
Harvey looked him straight in the eye.
And lowered the hammer.
“Not even close.”
Doing what he did to Genny.
Walking away from her.
Not reaching out for twenty-eight years, if only to reestablish some connection after all they’d been to each other.
What Harvey said was another thing in all of this Duncan knew.
His friend was right.
Chapter 6
The Lunch
Imogen
* * *
“Are you high?”
Heddy’s voice was rising.
“Keep it down,” I hissed, not a fan of any scene, but definitely not one that involved me.
Already, I’d noticed one person not-quite-surreptitiously holding their phone pointed our way.
One thing in this life I knew for certain.
The advent of phones with cameras sucked.
“He told…the man…you loved…the man… you grew up with…as your best friend…the man…who you gave…your virginity to…the man…”
She was stuttering all William-Shatner-like, I could tell it pained her, it was paining me too, thus I had to stop her.
“Yes, that man,” I confirmed. “And yes, he told him what I told you he told him.”
And sitting on the patio of El Gato Azul, I was seeing that Corey’s final fuck-you was going to have long-lasting effects.
I was also debating whether or not I’d tell Trisha and Scott that evening.
Scott would blow his stack.
Trisha would lose her mind.
They would both be hurt if I didn’t share, because I knew they were already more than their usual keen for this visit, seeing as they were worried about me due to the fact Corey committed suicide.
But I was done living Corey’s latest betrayal.
I’d had long enough of that, thank you very much.
Even if, until recently, I didn’t know it was happening.
“And that man barricaded you into his office with his body saying you needed to talk things out, and you left?”
“Heddy, what he wanted to talk out was a long time, a career, a husband, and three kids ago,” I pointed out.
“Ohmigod,” she breathed. “Again, are you high?”
I sat back in my metal chair on the crowded patio and sighed, all while reaching to my rosé wine in order to take a fortifying sip.
“You know, I’ve seen him around, and I will preface this next by saying, when it happened, I had utterly no clue that he was yours, but I’ve seen him and I’ve had some very lustful thoughts,” Heddy declared.
I wished this did not affect me.
But even way back when, Duncan being a fifteen on a scale of one to ten and the amount of female attention he got because of it always stuck in my craw.
And as ridiculous and nonsensical as that feeling was to have now, I was having that feeling.
I did not share this with my friend Heddy.
At least I thought I didn’t.
But she hooted and then stated, “You’re jealous.”
“I am not jealous, and he is not mine,” I retorted and finally took my sip of wine.
“Okay, I’m a tertiary character on a huge-ass television show, my character has a short, but heartbreaking story arc as the friend Bonnie makes at the hospital while Devon is fighting cancer. The friend who bites it, because…duh, she’s got cancer. My career tanks because I tell one director to shove it because I was tired of people telling me my ass was fat, even though my ass is fat. I get the hell out of that demon industry, only to have that super-famous chick I made friends with on the set have superhuman dedication to keeping friends. Therefore, she kept me as a friend, no matter the time or distance. I then find myself fated to live in the same town her ex-boyfriend, first-love, keeper of the gift of her cherry lives. I lust after him and share that. She gives me the look of death. And he’s not yours?”
Obviously, after my crying episode last night, and too much alone time over croissants and coffee at the bistro table in my suite, by the time I’d made it to the restaurant, I was ready to unload.
Something I did.
So much of it, we’d managed to order wine, but not any food.
And it was something I wished right then I did not do.
“Your ass is not fat,” I snapped.
Heddy grinned largely. “Babe, this is demonstration of your superhuman dedication to keeping friends, that in all of that, not only do you pick the thing to address that would make me feel better, you do it subtly dropping the hint I should let this Duncan Holloway thing go. PS. I’m not letting this Duncan Holloway thing go.”
“I don’t have superhuman dedication to friendship, Heddy. My best friend in all the world accused me of cheating on him. He then disappeared from my life. After that, I became famous and learned very quickly the wealth of ways people can, will and do use you or screw you over because you’re famous. So I put a fair amount of effort into keeping the good ones.”