Page 19 of Need to Know

“Any jobbing actor would be a fool to pigeon-hole themselves into one or the other. As long as I’m offered challenging, interesting roles, I’m up for anything!”

“That’s a great attitude to have. And Nate, what’s next for you?”

“Jack and I are still on our tour to promote the movie. We have premières in Berlin, Germany and in London, England. Then, I’m planning to take a year off to complete a screenplay.”

“A man of many talents! I had no idea you wrote too!”

“Yes, writing’s been a passion since high school. I’ve reached a stage in my career where I can afford to take a step back and focus on projects that have been bubbling in the background for a while. I can’t say any more, other than, it’s all very much need to know!” I beamed a cheesy grin at having led the conversation back to the name of our movie.

“You are so funny!” Mindy fawned. “Jack, Nate, thank you so much for chatting with me today, it’s been a pleasure.”

We both smiled at the screen until the producer’s voice said, “And—were clear. Thanks Mr. Linden, Mr. Boyd that was great, I’ll be in touch with your agents with a copy of the interview,” the producer said before we all said our goodbyes and ended the Zoom call. I sat back and let out a sigh of relief. I was glad that was over and I’d been able to remain in control of the announcement of the impending divorce. The gutter press could go fuck themselves with their exposés, seedy photos, and innuendo.

I powered off my computer, scooped my phone up, and left the home studio, stripping off the shirt I’d worn for the interview. I strode into my bathroom, tossed the shirt in the hamper, took a leak, and then washed my hands and face. I was emotionally exhausted and honestly, I just wanted to starfish on the bed and forget the past few days. But then my phone screen lit up.

****

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Jack

“Go to video. I wanna see you!” Nate demanded when he picked up the call. My heart fluttered at his request. I clicked on the video icon.

“Ahh, there you are!” he grinned, “Lookin’ good!”

“Hey handsome!” I greeted, unable to stop from smiling. Even dressed down Nate Linden was a snack. He appeared a little tired, and there was something different in the way he looked at me. His ice blue eyes lingered a little longer, as if he’d finally given himself permission to eye fuck me in the way I’d always wanted him to. A susurration of heat rushed over my skin.

“The interview went well, don’t you think?” I began. Nate was walking around his huge apartment and I took in the view behind him, of a high-spec open plan kitchen, and lounge area with floor to ceiling windows and views out over Manhattan.

“Yeah, I’m relieved to get the divorce announcement out there myself. I’m sure the press will continue to speculate though!”

“Announcing it during a live interview was a ballsy move. You okay?”

“I’m not done processing yet, but, yeah, I’ll be okay. The last few days have been a blur.”

“Well, I’m here for you mate. Whatever you need.”

“There’s an amazing sunset tonight,” Nate said, clearly not willing to linger on the subject of his divorce any longer. He turned the phone camera to show me.

“Whoa! What a view! Your place…hell, it’s like an interiors catalogue,” I gasped, impressed by his set up. In the six months since we wrapped Nate and I had spoken on the phone and texted, but we’d hadn’t video called. I was the one always making excuses…I didn’t want to see what Nate’s real life looked like…I didn’t want to visualize what I couldn’t have. But things were different now.

“Gimmie a twirl,” I goaded. And he did, turning the camera, showing me the high ceilings and white walls covered in abstract art canvases.

“Amazing, huge, and airy, like a gallery,” I praised. “How many floors up are you?”

“I’m at the top. I own the whole of the eightieth floor.”

My jaw dropped open comically at hearing this. “Fuck me! You own the whole penthouse floor of a New York skyscraper?”

Nate slumped onto an L-shaped sectional couch and said, “Yeah, it’s so big. We’ve lived here for ten years…I’m thinking of selling it.”

“Really? Why?”

“Erik signed this place over to me as part of the settlement.”

“That was umm…generous!”

“Not really. On the list of the world’s richest architects Erik’s number four,” Nate revealed. “A multi-million-dollar penthouse is chicken feed to him.”