Page 177 of Wicked Angel
“Okay. Good. You should deal with it. Maybe we can—”
“I didn’t ask for your opinion.”
She sucked in a breath. Her eyes saidWhy are you being mean?
Haven’t we come so far?
I looked away. “Can you just go? I need to take care of some things.”
“Right now?”
“Yes. Right now.”
“Okay.” She hesitated, though. “I know you’re not in the right headspace right now to be thinking about the press release. But I can get working on it, and then when you’re ready—”
“I don’t care about the fucking press release, Angeline. I don’t. Fucking. Care. Do you hear me? I don’t give a fuck. The only thing I fucking cared about just fucking up and left.”
She blinked at me. “So… you don’t care about me. Is that it?”
I didn’t say anything as she stared at me, waiting for me to say something.
When I didn’t, she got up and left the room.
ChapterThirty-One
Angeline
Johnny had disappeared.
I hadn’t seen him in almost seventy-two hours. Not since he’d told me that he lost his record deal and he didn’t care about any press release I might put out about it—and inferred that he didn’t care about much of anything other than his career. Including me.
If he’d been around the next day or the next, or come home at night, I didn’t see him. I slept in my room at Shayla’s and stayed away from his house. He wanted me out of his face, so I got out.
But three days into the silent treatment, I was getting worried with a side of mad and a sprinkling of depressed.
I met Courteney at a coffee shop where she was working on her laptop. She was writing again, working on pitches for her next book with her agent. I was so proud of her, and when I saw her sitting there, glasses on, typing away, and I thought about how far she’d come from the sixteen-year-old girl I’d met at an industry party at Brody Mason’s house, in a closet no less, crying because she’d felt rejected by her crush—her future husband, Xander—I couldn’t believe I had my head so far up my own ass right now.
She lit up when she saw me and I gave her a huge hug. “You!” she exclaimed. “I miss you.”
“Me too.” I slumped into a seat at her table. “I hate myself for what I’m about to do to your day.”
“Oh, shit. What’s wrong?”
“I’m gonna cry. The tears are coming. I can feel it.” By the time I got the words out, I was already crying. In a café.Again.At least this time I had the foresight to bring a damn hat. I tugged my ball cap down a bit, trying to hide my embarrassing face which displayed my every emotion to the wide world. “I’m so sorry, Court. I’m so excited about your new book. How is it going?”
She shut her laptop. “Angie, we can talk about that later. Whatever’s bringing you to tears is more important.”
That made me want to cry harder. I tried to suck it back. You know, like a mentally sound grownup who was in public, for fuck’s sake.
“What is it, babe?” Courteney reached over the table to give my hand a squeeze. “You know you can tell me anything. I give terrible advice about sex toys but I’m a wonderful listener.”
“I know you are.” I tried to smile at her. “Johnny’s upset with me. Or something.” I breathed out through the sharp pain in my ribs. It had felt, for three whole days, like I couldn’t take in a full breath. “We had a bit of an argument the other night. I don’t know. He just wanted me out of his face because he was upset about losing his record deal.”
Courteney’s hazel eyes went wide. “He lost his record deal?”
“Yeah. I need to do a press release before the rumor mill gets going. But he doesn’t even want to talk about it. Now, do I do the release without him, with his manager, or will he hate us for taking over?”
“Uh… I don’t think it’s taking over. You’re doing your jobs. Part of which is basically protecting his career, right? Or at least helping to ensure that he continues to have one.”
