Dating You / Hating You
Page 61

Everyone is packed and having a final cup of coffee Sunday morning before the cars arrive to drive us back. The fire is roaring, a row of suitcases waits in a neat line near the doorway, and I’m counting down the minutes until Evie and I are alone again. I want to be alone so I can tell her about Dan, yes, but also to talk over and digest everything that’s happened between us and to make a plan for how to deal with Brad, together.
Evie is on the phone with the drivers, and I’m near the fireplace, watching her as inconspicuously as I can manage. Brad and Kylie are talking in a corner nearby; I can hear bits and pieces of their conversation, not that I’m really paying much attention. I’m just ready to get out of here.
“I don’t know,” Kylie says. “I told them specifically that all of that was supposed to go straight to you.” Brad nods. “I’m not sure where the miscommunication happened. I told them, Brad.”
“I know you did,” he says, and there’s softness in his tone that suddenly has my attention. “People have too much time on their hands; I’ll take care of it.”
I don’t realize that I’m staring until Brad looks over Kylie’s shoulder and his eyes lock with mine. Shit.
He sends Kylie away, telling her to make sure everyone is accounted for, and moves to stand at my side.
“Carter,” he says, eyebrows pulled in tight as he glances around the rest of the bar. “You weren’t here last year, but did you think the retreat was a success?”
“Absolutely,” I tell him. “Evie deserves every bit of the credit.”
He leans against the fireplace and reaches for a few mints in a bowl there before popping one into his mouth. “You don’t have to cover for her, you know. If she wasn’t pulling her weight,” he says, “you can tell me.” He places an encouraging hand on my shoulder. “I know that you like her, Carter, and I do, too. Evie is a great girl. But she also has a reputation in this business.”
“You mean Field Day.”
“Exactly. And I’d hate to see you get caught up in anything that could jeopardize your trajectory. Especially considering I’d like to talk sometime this week about renewing your contract.”
I straighten and take a step back. “With all due respect, Evie is one of the—”
I’m cut off by a round of cheers and applause inside the lobby. The cars have arrived, and a smiling Evie is now walking toward us.
“Time to go,” she says, smile faltering as she looks between us. “Everything okay over here?”
Brad smiles that fucking smile of his. “We were just talking about how the weekend went.”
“Yeah? I think it was pretty great.” She gives us both a sweetly proud grin.
“It was amazing,” I say. “I was just telling Brad here that I know we did this together, but you really impressed me: leading this, with everything else on your plate.”
Her face lights up. “Thank you.” She looks from me to Brad for some kind of confirmation.
Of course, it doesn’t come. “Looks like it’s time to head out,” he says flatly. “I’ll see you both tomorrow morning. Enjoy the rest of your day.”
Evie’s face falls, and I know that her fears were just confirmed. For whatever reason, Brad was hoping she would screw up.
Suddenly it occurs to me that it isn’t just about Evie being a woman, or any hundred other possible forms of bigotry.
I mean, it is partly that. Evie’s not crazy regarding all the double standards. But Brad isn’t trying to get rid of every woman in the firm, even if he treats them all like shit. So his grudge isn’t just that.
No. Evie has something on Brad.
The question I have, when I look over at her, is whether she even realizes it.
Chapter twenty-three
evie
I consider myself to be an especially intuitive person, but even a newborn would pick up on the tension between me and Brad. Monday morning check-in goes by without a single word about the retreat. Brad doesn’t even acknowledge me in the hallway as we pass. And Kylie’s sweet I still really like you! smiles every time she sees me communicate more than Brad’s stony silence. It’s not unheard of to have tense relationships at work, even—maybe especially—with bosses, but given that I’ve done everything he’s asked of me and then some, his behavior is bewildering.
As much as I love being an agent, and as much as I love having the reach of P&D and its resources at my fingertips, I have to admit that it’s getting hard to give a shit about any of this.
Carter and I banged all of Friday and Saturday night, Saturday morning, of course, and back at my place the rest of the weekend on Sunday. That’s pretty much all I can think about right now. Being sex drunk is certainly better than being work stressed, and I’m like a cartoon with a halo of spinning stars, but instead of being hit with an anvil over the head, I’ve been hit in the vagina with Carter’s magical penis.
• • •
On Tuesday morning, Rose announces that she’s leaving the business, moving back to Iowa, and opening a bookstore. Pretty much everyone’s reaction to this is an internal, drawn-out Okaaaay?, which is less because doing so is a complete one-eighty from her job now and more because none of us could have guessed that Rose reads books, like ever.
She announces this in the middle of the wide outer hallway, in front of about sixteen assistants and interns working at the common area. It’s followed by a chorus of simultaneous gasps—the interns love Rose because she tells them every bit of dirt she knows.
Rose presses a shaking hand to her chest. “I know,” she says. “It hurts me, too. I’ll miss you guys so much.”
From across the hall, I can sense Carter’s attention on my face. Our eyes snag, and we struggle to not break out into enormous grins.
This means one less agent in LA.
This means Brad could possibly keep us both.
I break my gaze from his when my phone buzzes in my palm with a call from a producer at Sony. I answer, turning and speed-walking to my office.
“Evie,” the voice says. “It’s Frank Nelson.”
“Frank, nice to hear from you.”
“Look, I’m on my way to a meeting but wanted to check in quickly. I have a script I’d really like you to consider for Trent Vanh. This one is a huge Michael Bay production, and we’ve already got Keira Knightley signed on. Trent’s our lead, if he wants it.”
My heart isn’t galloping, it’s swallowing itself whole with every clenching beat.
“I’d love to take a look,” I say as calmly as I can. “Send it on over with the offer details, and we’ll go from there.”
“Great.”
The call ends. Easy. Fast. Timely.
Life-altering.
• • •
“Come in,” Brad says from the other side of the heavy oak door.
I push in, hands still shaking. He looks up, unblinking.
“Evie.”
“I’ve got great news,” I tell him.
He bids me to continue by putting his glasses down and folding his hands in front of him.
“Frank Nelson just called and offered Trent the lead on the next Bay film.”
Brad’s reaction to this is a tiny flicker of an eyebrow, a twitch at the side of his mouth. Six months ago he would have rounded the desk and hugged me over this.
But now all I get is a “Good. Good.”