Page 29 of Drive Me Crazy
Ella,
I won’t be your co-host, but I do hope you continue doing what you love. Fuck anyone who tries to take that away from you.
xx,
Blake
P.S. I lied when I said your podcast wasn’t the best. I’ve listened to every episode.
The work I’ve put into Blake’s book may be good so far, but how much I’m starting to like him? That’s one plot twist I didn’t see coming.
THIRTEEN
Blake
ANOTHER GALA I don’t want to attend, yet here I am. I chug my whiskey before the bartender slides a new one in front of me. I’m watching Ella from across the room. She’s deep in conversation with Keith, nodding animatedly. Every time I think about her being harassed at work, which has been nonstop since she told me, anger thrums through my veins. It takes strength to walk away from something like that, to walk away from a job you love because of some prick who can’t keep his dick in his pants.
Ella called me immediately after finding the gift, thanking me repeatedly. I still feel helpless about what happened to her, and I’m not sure if she even wants to podcast again, but at least the portable podcasting set was something I could give her to bring a smile to her face. And damn, is her smile beautiful. Plus, friends do stuff like buy the other one presents to cheer them up.
Keith makes his way across the room toward me.Fuck. I quickly down the rest of my drink. It burns my throat. My manager’s in the process of locking in a massive brand partnership and the executive vice president of the company is inattendance at tonight’s event. A good word from him will expedite the deal, and it’s a bloody good endorsement considering Keith flew in for the French Grand Prix.
I’ve met the bloke once before and didn’t particularly like him. He acts like he’s God’s gift to Earth and everyone should be honored to be breathing the same air as him.Wanker.
“Ah,” Keith says, appearing next to me at the bar. “There you are. Thought you were avoiding me.”
Not avoiding, but not going out of my way to announce my presence.
“Avoid you, Keith? I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Well, good”—he chuckles—“because Jean-François is here and I want you two to chat for a bit.”
I nod and follow his lead. Jean-François is hard to miss. He looks like the villain in every Disney movie that Millie’s ever made me watch. Tall, dark, and handsome with a side of malice and a hint of evil.
“Blake,” Jean-François greets me. “Pleasure to see you again.”
The smile he gives me doesn’t quite reach his beady eyes. He doesn’t make a move to shake my hand. Does he expect me to bend down and kiss his shiny Valentino shoes?
“Jean-François. How have you been?”
“Magnifique. We just signed David Beckham for an upcoming project.”
I guarantee he had nothing to do with Beckham signing with them. I swallow my dislike for the man and let him brag for the next fifteen minutes about how successful he is. If my endorsement goes through, I pray I never have to work with him. He’s insufferable.
“So, tell me how you’re doing.”
“Things have been good.” I cross my arms over my chest defensively. “The season is shaping up nicely so far.”
Hismouth jerks into a sardonic grin. “Much better than last season.”
My jaw immediately tenses, and he knows he’s hit a nerve. I’m about to knock this piece of shit out. I breathe in through my nose, out through my mouth, just like my therapist told me to. I wish I hadn’t finished my drink because I could use one right about now. He drones on and on about my less than stellar season last year and I’mthisclose to breaking his nose when a hand lightly touches my arm.
“Blake,” Ella greets me. “There you are! I’ve been searching everywhere for you.”
“’Ello. This is Ella. She’s—”
“Blake’s biographer,” she cuts in.
The smile on her face is the same one my sister used to give me that means “shut up and just go with my plan.” I have no idea what she’s playing at or what she’s doing over here, but I stay silent. There’s not much more of this conversation I can handle on my own.
