Even Charlee might give him that advice. They were firmly in the “Will needs to get some and let his team do their jobs” camp.
The trouble was that he didn’t want to get laid. He had the feeling that it wouldn’t make him feel better. He was better off shutting out the world and focusing on work. But until the restaurant opened, he wouldn’t get the same feeling of putting his head down in a sweaty kitchen, just trying to stay out of the weeds until the last order was up and the dining room was empty.
He wanted to run a different kind of restaurant than he and Charlee had come up in, but he was starting to realize why the chef they’d worked for had turned into such an asshole. The asshole chef had been going through a divorce, and it had turned him into a real dick.
At the time, Will didn’t understand how a breakup could change someone’s whole personality. Now he understood.
After his breakup with April, Will was never going to get married ever again. He’d thought he’d feel as though he had roots once he got married, but he felt like he was a plant that had been ripped out of the ground at this point. Moving in with someone was a very distant possibility, but he’d rather be alone with his thoughts than have to share his intimate inner life again anytime soon.
Hell, he’d rather have a prostate exam with a rusty fork than tell another person what he was thinking. And he was getting dangerously close to telling Charlee his thoughts.
“Yeah, let’s call it a night.”
FIVE
Though Alex had assured her ex-boyfriend’s assistant that she only needed a few minutes of Andrew’s time, Misty had cleared Andrew Wilder’s afternoon for her. Misty had always had a soft spot for Alex, because while she and Andrew had been dating, he had been less of a screamer. Actually, now that Alex thought about it, her exes’ assistants had always been fond of her. Maybe because the guys had directed all their assholery toward Alex during the weeks or months that they’d been dating? That was one thing she could be proud of regarding her relationship history.
Andrew Wilder was a reality television producer whose shows were squarely on the classy side of the spectrum. They’d met at a beach party for a reality television star. Alex hadn’t been there to take part in the festivities but had taken advantage of them to gain access to the owner of the home, who’d evaded being served with divorce papers for almost a month. Alex would have normally relied on a process server to do the deed, but three of them hadn’t gotten the job done. So Alex had used her association to her grandmother to pose as a grandkid of a celebrity–slash–hanger-on, and that had gotten her in.
As soon as she’d served the papers, the reality star’s face had gotten so red that it was almost going purple. They’d picked up an imitation of a very expensive vase and aimed it at Alex’s head when Andrew walked in.
He’d had a bone to pick with the reality star, too. They wouldn’t sign their new contract. And if they didn’t sign their new contract, they wouldn’t have been able to afford to pay for their divorce attorney. So Andrew and Alex had tag-teamed them until they put down the vase, accepted the divorce papers, signed their new contract, and promised to seek some counseling for their rage issues.
After that, Andrew and Alex had ended up going to a great little restaurant at the beach and having a couple of drinks. She hadn’t hesitated to go back to Andrew’s place, also conveniently at the beach. He wasn’t trash in bed—he’d clearly read a manual or two on how to operate a clitoris, and he paid attention—so they’d slept together for a few months until . . . Alex didn’t really know why things had ended.
And when Andrew saw Alex standing in the threshold of his office, Alex realized that he’d definitely never intended to run into her again. But, like any professional in the entertainment industry, he recovered fairly quickly and put on a brave face.
“To what do I owe this pleasure?” Andrew asked. He really was very handsome. In addition to being charming in a way that didn’t immediately come off as slick. “You’re not here to serve me, are you?”
That caught Alex short. They hadn’t gotten kinky when they were together, so he could only mean that he thought she might be here in her professional capacity. And the only reason she would be there in her professional capacity was if he was getting a divorce. Her online stalking had revealed that he appeared to be deliriously happily married to an interior designer.
Suddenly, she felt really awkward. She really should have been feeling awkward before she’d showed up at her ex-boyfriend’s office to ask why he’d ghosted her. But it had seemed like a decent idea when she was two martinis deep with her friends at lunch. She and Andrew hadn’t had an acrimonious breakup—they hadn’t really had a breakup at all. He’d stopped calling all the time and so she’d stopped calling. Showing up at his office seemed like a great way to get information.
But now she was standing in his office, planning on asking him why he’d stopped calling, and that felt really weird. And it was even more strange now that he was married.
“I should go—”
Andrew smiled at her, and she felt even more stupid for coming here. He was a nice guy, and he didn’t deserve her dumping all her newfound neuroses on his lap. “I mean, you came all the way to Studio City. It must be important.” He motioned to the chair in front of him. “If no one’s divorcing me, please sit down.”
Alex shook her head and took his invitation. “No one’s divorcing you.”
He wiped his forehead dramatically in a relieved gesture, and Alex laughed. He was such a nice man, really. So rare in the world of entertainment, and especially reality television.
“It’s been a long time, and you’re the last person I expected to see in my office.” Andrew’s words seemed so genuine that Alex had to fight not to slouch in her chair. It was deeply unhinged for her to be asking this perfectly decent man why he’d stopped calling.
“I have a really dumb question for you.”
“You’re way too smart to have dumb questions.” That was only because he didn’t know why she was there yet.
Alex was of the mind that it was always better to just be direct. “Listen, why did we break up?”
Andrew’s mouth opened and closed several times, but he recovered quickly. He’d dealt with enough bananas folks to have the skills to cover. “Were we ever together?”
Now, that was a real question. And maybe that answered all her questions. Maybe she never got close enough—even with guys who had potential—to classify any of her dalliances as actual relationships. Maybe she was like green juice—she had all the micronutrients required to keep someone’s liver humming along, but she lacked the substance to be an actual meal. That would explain Jason’s sudden change of heart when it came to his new fiancée.