Page 19 of Desk & Deception
Wiping my tears, I sniffled. “Only because I’m talking to you.”
“He didn’t give you a choice except to walk away.” Her tone was the gentlest I’d ever heard her use. “You should start the way you mean to go on in relationships, and staying when he was completely dismissing you would’ve set the worst precedent. You know that, right?”
I lost the battle against my tears. For the first time since this nightmare began, someone was validating that my painful decision had been necessary. “Yeah, I just wish it had all turned out differently.”
“Of course you do,” she murmured. “You love Reid, and the dipshit loves you back. He just…forgot how to show it on the most important stuff.”
That was putting it mildly. “Mm-hmm.”
“I wish I had a better explanation for why he messed up so epically. Or that I was there so I could knock some sense into him,” she muttered.
“It’s too late for that. I already gave him the ring back.”
“And rightly so. I don’t blame you at all.” She paused before adding, “But if he grovels enough for you to give him a second chance, I’ll have your back. What happens next is ultimately up to you. I don’t care what your parents or Sienna think about it. Or what Reid wants. You’re the only one who knows what’s right for you.”
“Thank you,” I whispered. “I really needed to hear that.”
“You don’t need to thank me. That’s what best friends are for.”
When we finally hung up, I felt a little better. I was nowhere near fixed, but I was less alone.
That feeling stayed with me through the next hour. Right up until a production assistant walked into the HMU trailer carrying a large white box tied with an emerald-green ribbon. I assumed it was for one of the stars since gifts arrived for them all the time.
Then the guy announced, “Delivery for Lila Sinclair.”
I stared at the box before taking it from him. “Thanks.”
Soft peach ranunculus were inside, my favorite flower. The kind that was supposed to have been in my bridal bouquet, which made my chest clench. There were also fresh pastries from the little bakery I loved near the studio and a box of the blonde roast coffee pods with hints of citrus and toasted almond. It had been out of stock for months, since it was a limited-edition summer release.
The gift was thoughtful. Not flashy or expensive for the sake of it.
And a handwritten note rested on top.
You told me I wasn’t listening.
I hear you now.
I’m sorry I didn’t sooner.
— Reid
I squeezed my eyes shut, thinking this was too little, too late. Gifts wouldn’t take the pain away. Or change the fact that he hadn’t treated me with respect when it counted.
One of the other makeup artists leaned over and smiled. “Aw, that’s sweet.”
“Nah, someone’s in trouble.” The actress in her chair quirked a brow. “That’s an apology gift if I’ve ever seen one.”
“Flowers and pastries?” one of the assistants said.
“Girl, whatever he did, make him suffer a little longer.”
Laughter followed their banter, and humiliation flooded through me, mixing with the fresh wave of pain. I refused to give in to the feeling, though. Not when everyone was looking.
So I pasted a smile on my face as I shook my head. “Not at all, but I’ll be the one in trouble if I let myself get distracted, so these will have to wait.”
As much as I wanted to toss everything in the trash, I set the box on the counter behind me before turning back to the talent who’d just sat in my chair right before the delivery arrived. “Sorry about that.”
She waved off my apology. “No worries, you’re already ahead of schedule, which is unheard of in this business.”
