“Ha-ha. Very funny.”
For a moment I actually like having Chase here. At least Chase lets me focus on being a big brother and gives me someone to talk to who doesn’t look at me like the biggest dick that ever lived. I hope we can somehow keep things mature and avoid diving headfirst into trouble he somehow always manages to find.
Olivia
Ibegged him not to move on quickly. I told him how much it would hurt. The fact that he was sloppy enough to be seen with some bitch kills me. He was always so careful, so focused on staying professional when anyone couldpossibly, maybesee us, and now he’s flaunting his conquests for everyone to see.
Stephen Grant is a dick.
Worse is knowing I’m as meaningless as these sluts and whores he parades around. Even worse than that is that it kills me because he has my heart when he should only have my frustration.
Groaning, I smother every curse and worry in a pillow. It’s easier than thinking about Stephen. I need to move on. That’s all it is. What is it that Iz always says? To get over someone, you have to get under someone else?
Maybe that’s what I need.
All the fucking better if it’s caught by the press. Then maybe Stephen will see that I don’t care. He’ll see that I can have whoever I want, that I can move on too. Even if it’s a lie. I’ll sell it happily. I’m an actress and I can use that to my fucking advantage if it means I can believe for one second that Stephen will do more than glance at a photo of me.
I exhale and make myself get dressed for the day. I refuse to let him force me into another day of staying in bed because I just can’t be around people. So, I get myself cute in a simple peach day dress and nude heels. I put on some light makeup and a simple hairstyle, so it doesn’t look like I’m trying.
I download a dating app for the hell of it and go to my car. I have the day to enjoy and then get to have dinner with Daddy. Because he’s not happy with how we left things and he said we have to talk.
Great.
The last thing I want to do is talk with my dad about my life. I’d rather go back to how it was when I was little—spending his money while watching his floozies take up his time. He didn’t need conversations with me when he was getting laid.
Ugh! There’s too much on my mind. I head to a spa to take the edge off. Being pampered does more for me than alcohol, no matter how much Jane swears by vodka cranberries. As my nails are done and my feet are rubbed, I feel stress literally fall off me.
It’s amazing. The mediation music and the cucumbers on my eyes just complete the experience. I tip the massage therapists then the facialists and walk out feeling shiny and new. Maybe if I get enough full-body massages and masks, I’ll be able to rid my molecules of Stephen.
It will be like he never touched me at all.
I get lunch, go shopping, and then go home, carrying two bags of new clothes I can wear to auditions. I remember going with Iz and Jane to find sexy lingerie and bikinis to tempt Stephen. Hell, I remember going with them to get even sluttier lingerie once I had Stephen. Now, I can’t imagine walking into the intimates section without feeling him against me…his warm breath on my neck.
Sighing, I shake my head.
I need to forget him. What the hell is wrong with me? I need to be done with him entirely. Evict him from my brain, my life, my fantasies. I don’t owe him shit. He doesn’t owe me anything. He gave me an apology and a proper breakup, sex included.
So why do I want to search every app and social media page for an update on the skank Stephen was with? It’s irrational. It’s stupid. And I refuse to believe that love, with a capital L, means feeling this psychotic and hormonal.
Otherwise, no one would survive heartache, and I’m going to be another casualty.
My dad calls me just as I’m texting out some bullshit excuse to him. I sigh and then put on a smile as I answer the phone with my full name.
“Hi, honey. I know we had dinner scheduled for tonight, but I can’t make it.”
“Oh, okay.” I make myself sound disappointed. “Did something come up?”
I hear another voice in the background and roll my eyes. Predictable. Wannabe Wifey is with him. He exhales and redirects to me. “I’m sorry. I completely forgot about a prior agreement I have to be at. Rain check?”
“Yeah, Dad. Business first.” I actually smirk. “You did a good job teaching me that.”
“Don’t get sassy with me, Olivia.”
“Bye.” I hang up and erase the text message.
I fight the urge to text Stephen again, then rehearse some lines. It’s easier than thinking about my own life. I’ve wanted to be an actress for as long as I can remember. I love the idea of being someone else, being in a different world, having a chance at a life that’s exciting. Mostly, I like knowing how things end. No confusion or surprises to muddle things.
My phone rings and I pick it up without looking. “This is Olivia Love.”