Total pages in book: 244
Estimated words: 236705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1184(@200wpm)___ 947(@250wpm)___ 789(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 236705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1184(@200wpm)___ 947(@250wpm)___ 789(@300wpm)
She’s sniffing out a story.
Shit. I need to serve her a better exposé than TJ and Jude are awkward together. Especially since a goth dude with a Nikon is snapping shots of us. Piper’s photographer, I presume.
I go with the arm move, curling my palm over Jude’s shoulder. “We’ve just heard such great things about Food and its focus on simple dishes. We were saying that last night. Right, honey?” I ask, adopting a new pet name as I shove my shoe down my esophagus.
I’m deep throating my Vans tonight.
Mayday. May-fucking-day.
Jude sets his palm on top of my hand, squeezes it. Hard, like sending-a-message hard. “We were, love,” he says, slick and charming. “We’re all about new cuisine.”
His tone says, let me handle this, but my pride disagrees with him. “We are,” I say, squaring my shoulders. “Restaurant openings are just the best. We have a blast going to them.”
That wasn’t so bad. Maybe I’m getting the hang of this.
Red carpet smoothness at your service.
Piper tips her head toward me, her brow knitting. “I thought this was your first restaurant opening. Jude said as much a few minutes ago.”
And . . . I spoke too soon.
“It is. But we’ve been wanting to go,” Jude cuts in amiably as he grips my hand harder. Possibly, he wants to break my knuckles now.
“So, you were talking about how much you want to go to one?” Piper asks, her reporter radar still beeping.
Jude jumps on the grenade. “Yes, because we’re so excited to go out and be together. Do all the things. You know how it goes.” His eyes swing to mine, and they say shut the fuck up.
But Piper thrusts her phone my way. “TJ, I’ve been dying to ask you a question about If Found, Please Return. What was your reaction when you saw your boyfriend on screen? I’m thinking, in particular, of the scene when he’s at the dining room table alone, talking to his wife, pretending she’s there . . . it absolutely gutted me.”
Finally, a question I can answer from the heart. “I saw it earlier this year. I’m glad the lady next to me at the theater offered me a tissue. I’m not ashamed to say I choked up.”
“Yes! I was a right mess. Totally sobbing,” Piper says, then she turns to Jude. “What did TJ say to you about your film? Did he tell you how chuffed he was?”
Jude clutches my hand in a vise-like grip. “Yes. He was beaming. And all I could think was I am the luckiest guy in the world to have such a supportive boyfriend.”
“Brilliant.” Then, she draws a deep breath, shoots an almost apologetic smile to Jude, and asks, “Have you been in touch with William with Lettuce Pray? We’ve heard that he might need to cancel some concerts.”
I grind my teeth as Jude gives a sympathetic smile. “He’s a good friend, but I’m not privy to his concert plans. You’d have to talk to him.”
Piper gestures to the photographer. “One more photo of the two of you?”
“Of course,” Jude says, then drags me hard against him.
The goateed guy snaps the shot, then Piper thanks us and leaves, weaving through the crowd.
Giving me a pointed look, Jude drops the volume. “Darling, let’s have a word in private.”
“Sure,” I say, dreading this talking-to. Yes, Jude, I suck at acting. Bet that surprises you.
He tugs me toward the men’s room, then pulls me inside and locks the door. It’s a single stall, black-tiled bathroom—because of course it is—and we’re alone.
He turns to me and locks eyes like we’re locking horns. “You were crying at my movie?” His question drips with skepticism.
I didn’t fucking lie, but I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much the performance affected me. “What’s wrong with that?”
“Do you think maybe you’re overselling us?”
“Like you weren’t?” I fire back, then imitate him. “Luckiest guy in the world? Who says that shit?”
He sneers. “All your heroes. That’s in your books.”
He won’t win this argument, though. “They say that at the end, man. When they’re all happy and shit, forever.”
“And isn’t that what we’re supposed to be? Happy and shit?” Jude asks, imitating me now.
“Yes, but it’s the beginning of our supposed story. We’re not at the luckiest guy in the world level yet. And when I saw your movie, we’d only just reconnected per Slade’s backstory.” I might not be a good actor, but I understand story arcs. “We’re supposed to be infatuated right now.”
“And infatuated people don’t say things like My boyfriend and I are thrilled to be here.”
Fuck him for calling me on bad dialogue. Fuck him for being right. And fuck him once more for the pointed tone he’s taking. “Fine. What do they say since you’re the expert? What did you and William say to each other, for instance?”