Page 23 of The Ex Factor

‘Thought you were busting,’ Ashley said, not immediately moving.

‘Yes, totally,’ Molly said.

There followed a silence that involved a lot more eye contact than either of them seemed prepared to handle.

‘I’ll see you out there then?’ Ashley asked.

‘You surely will.’

Ashley left, and Molly hurried into the cubicle to release the contents of her impatient bladder. As the hot liquid hit the bowl, she felt quite certain she was going to make a fool of herself tonight.

Nine

Now

The silence that followed Molly’s greeting was far more terrifying than the ringing had been.

Ashley cleared her throat, suddenly hyper-aware of how quiet her flat was. ‘Look, I’m sorry to just call out of the blue like this.’

‘It’s fine,’ Molly said, her voice carrying that familiar, breezy rhythm. ‘I’m thirty now. I can handle an unscheduled phone call.’

‘Right.’ Ashley paced the living room. ‘I’m actually calling because of Simon. My manager. He told me he talked to your agent, and I wanted to apologise.’

A short pause. ‘Apologise?’

‘For the... ya know,’ Ashley said, throwing her free hand up in the air. ‘The PR thing. Simon has the emotional intelligence of an iPad, and he saw stuff about us on the internet and immediately started calculating ticket sales. I told him it was a horrible, manipulative idea, and I wanted to make sure you knew it didn’t originate from me. I’d never weaponise... you know. The past.’

‘Oh,’ Molly said.

A terrible silence followed.

‘I appreciate you telling me,’ Molly said quietly.

‘I’m sorry. Truly. I’ll make Simon drop it.’

‘Actually...’ Molly hesitated. Ashley heard the distinct sound of a sigh. ‘Don’t make him drop it just yet.’

Ashley froze. ‘What?’

‘I’ve been thinking about it,’ Molly said, the words coming out a little faster now. ‘The sitcom is dead, Ashley. Officially. And the jobs my agent offered were... Frankly, they sucked shit. Drama directors apparently think I’m strictly a punchline.’

‘Molly, you’re a skilled actress. You don’t need a fake relationship with an underperforming pop star to prove that.’

‘Maybe not permanently. But a few photos? A couple of outings where people happen to see us?’ Molly sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than Ashley. ‘It might help. Both of us.’

Ashley listened, her heart hammering against her ribs. Molly was rationalising it perfectly. Cutting it down to a practical solution to a problem.

But deep down in the parts of herself Ashley refused to look at, the willingness to entertain the idea had absolutely nothing to do with selling extra concert tickets. It was a loophole. A legally sanctioned, manager-approved excuse to sit across a table from Molly Sullivan again, to look at her, to hear that laugh again.

However, Ashley was excellent at denial. A real hall of famer.

‘I mean... if you’re looking at it like that,’ Ashley said, her voice dropping into a carefully constructed, casual drawl. ‘I guess it doesn’t need to be a big deal.’

‘Nope,’ Molly agreed instantly.

‘No big deal at all,’ Ashley repeated, leaning her forehead against the cool glass of the windowpane. ‘We just go out, get a meal, let someone take a grainy photo of us and call it a day.’

‘Exactly. We’re just two professionals using the system.’ Molly let out a tiny, sharp laugh. ‘We can do that, right?’