Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86469 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86469 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Well, now it was fucking impossible to keep my personal life off the set. "When was the last time you talked to him?"
He shrugged and scratched his jaw, pensive. "Last night, I believe. He was in the studio all day, so I stopped by to hear what he had so far."
Ah. I rubbed the back of my neck and frowned at the floor, honestly feeling cast aside. I had no doubt that if I texted him about work, he'd reply. He was professional and took shit seriously, but I didn't know why he was avoiding me. Hell, I didn't even know where he lived.
"Are you two okay?" Tennyson asked.
I forced a smile and lifted my gaze from the ground. "I'm not really sure. He's keeping to himself." Glancing over to the set, I saw everyone was still waiting for me, so it was time to finish this. "Maybe I'll see him tonight at the party, or it'll be tomorrow at the airport. See you later, man."
"Noah?" He stopped me, and I looked back at him. "You know where he's staying, yes?"
I suppressed a sigh. 'Cause it sucked that others knew more about him than I did. It wasn't some goddamn competition, but, Christ. "No," I admitted.
"Daniel and Zane's beach house."
Fucking great.
"We thought you knew." He frowned. "We don't pry, but I have noticed he's looking more tired lately."
I nodded with a dip of my chin and offered another tight smile, and then I got back to work again.
*
"Can you at least pretend to be happy?" Sophie asked. "Or tell me why you're PMSing." That part was grumbled as a doorman let us in to the bar Tennyson had rented for the evening.
"I'll be happier after a few drinks." I scowled and adjusted my crotch. The only downside to our being neighbors was that she sometimes played dress-up with me if we had an event that required more than jeans and button-downs.
These gray dress pants from some uppity designer could certainly get me laid, 'cause fucking hell, my ass looked good, but I had to be in the mood for it. Years ago, I wouldn’t have complained. Years ago.
Back when I didn't have Julian to obsess over.
The trendy bar was packed with crewmembers and their spouses, and after greeting only a few, I was feeling suffocated. I unbuttoned the top two buttons of my shirt and aimed for the bar. I'd already lost Sophie to Brooklyn, both of whom were both enjoying a night away from mommy duties. Tennyson and Asher were catching a game—lucky bastards—and they had the kids with them.
While I waited for my beer, I checked my phone, but there was nothing new. Last text from Julian came a couple hours ago, and he'd said he'd be here.
Away from the set, everyone was more chill, and crewmembers who wouldn't normally approach a director for fear of interrupting his work were now coming forward in droves. I was flattered as fuck, though.
This attention was new, and I was beginning to see why Tennyson had adapted to a hermitlike lifestyle. Sophie had brought him outta his shell a bit, but he preferred peace and quiet. I got it. It was a bit overwhelming.
"Noah! Over here!"
I'd drained my third beer when I looked out over the crowd and saw my escape. Michael had made it, so I excused myself from two wardrobe girls and made my way over to him.
"Hey, kid. Glad you made it." Checking my watch, I wondered where the hell Julian was.
"Yeah, me too. My sister's watching my daughter, so that's gonna cost me, but…" He shrugged and grinned. "You stoked about Paris?"
Couldn’t he tell? Fuck, I didn't know what was wrong with me.
"It'll be fun." I nodded and tried to muster some enthusiasm. "You haven't seen Julian by any chance, have you?"
There was no big plan. I didn't know what I'd say to Julian when I saw him, but I was done with his hiding. And he didn't need to worry about me crossing any more lines. Someway, somehow, I'd get over him. I hoped.
"Uh, yeah, sure." Michael craned his neck to look past me. "I think I saw him in the back. Come on. I'll take you there."
I was fully capable of finding the seating area in the back myself, but I followed anyway. With Michael, I looked busy. Fewer people stopped me, so that was good.
Someone called out for me way back from where we came, but I pretended not to hear it. The music was loud, making it a plausible excuse.
Rather than continuing to the back, Michael turned toward the bathrooms in a corridor behind the main bar, which confused me. Though, before I could ask what was up, he faced me with an odd expression. Seriousness mixed with nerves, and he ran a hand through his light hair.