Page 94 of Score
“I haven’t dated that many women.”
“My point exactly,” Meekah retorted smugly. “So is she the one who got away?”
If I ever believed there was such a thing as “the one,” it would have been Verity, but she ruined that.
So, why you here looking for her?
“I’m not looking for her,” I counter under my breath, shifting the blanket rolled beneath my arm. “She don’t own this flick.”
I pull the brim of my baseball cap down a little lower. I’m not in the mood to socialize. This is some bullshit. I’m going home.
“Monk?”
The sound of my name with that tentative note, in that husky voice, stops me.
I look up from beneath my cap and come face-to-face with the woman I’m absolutely not here to see.
“Verity.” I think I sound suitably surprised. “Great minds think alike, I guess.”
“Uh, yeah.” She shifts a white paper bag from one hand to the other. “Banging my head against my laptop at home wasn’t getting me anywhere, so I thought, why not?”
“I know how that is.”
“You told me once that it all came naturally to you. Remember? And music was always easy.”
“Shiiiiit. That was before every song had a deadline.”
“Nice to hear the great Monk Bellamy is mortal.”
“In the end, I’m just a man,” I say with a smirk. “Though you got the ‘great’ part right.”
“And still so modest,” she laughs.
I used to live for that laugh. Hard to believe it was once an everyday occurrence, but I’ve gone years without it and had almost forgotten the sound.
“What you got there?” I tip my chin to the bag she’s holding. “Anything good?”
“Not really. I already ate dinner. I swung by a bakery to pick up some chocolate éclairs and iced coffee.”
“Okay. I’m in.”
She tilts her head and grins up at me. “I don’t recall inviting you.”
“I mean, I’m here.” I gesture to the bag. “The coffee’s here. The éclairs are here.”
“Using me for my éclairs.” She huffs a sigh. “I guess I’ll share.”
“Generous. So you gonna say all the lines like you used to once the movie starts?”
“I don’t…” She pretends to think about it. “Probably, yeah.”
“I figured.” I look around until I spot a clear patch of grass among all the seated moviegoers. “Wanna set up over there?”
By the time my blanket is spread out, I’m second-guessing the decision to stay. To hang out with the woman who arguably hurt me as much as anyone in my life ever. Sure, we’re forced to be on set together sometimes,but this was me actively seeking her out. Going out of my way and against my better judgment on the off chance that she still lovedBrown Sugarenough to venture out tonight.
“You thinking mighty hard over there,” she says, setting out a pink bakery box of éclairs while we wait for the movie to begin.
“I was thinking about the fact that we’re watching a movie in a graveyard,” I lie.
