There had been a few opportunities that I’d considered, until it became clear that they were hoping for Katee to show up on the first day.
I didn’t know how to tell people she wasn’t real. And if she was, she was long gone now. I didn’t think I could be Katee Rose if I tried. And I really, really didn’t want to.
“Huh.” Whitney leaned back. “People really don’t forgive, do they?”
“When you cheat on your beloved boy band boyfriend? No,” I said. “They really don’t.”
“You were a kid,” she said.
It was a generous explanation for why things had happened the way they had. And patently false. We’d both been adults. Not fully grown but old enough to know better.
“I’m pretty sure the term is Heart Smasher,” I said.
That’s what Ryan’s first solo album had been called. One last foray into music before transitioning completely to acting.
“I thought it was dumb then, and I think it’s dumb now,” Whitney said. “And Mason was always the better singer.”
“No argument here,” I said.
If Mason hadn’t been so distracted by other things, he would have been the breakout star, not Ryan. But I was pretty sure Mason didn’t care anymore.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Cal said.
He had Sammy draped over one shoulder. Snoring.
“I think we might be all museumed out,” he said.
“Oh boy,” Whitney said, taking her kid out of Cal’s arms. “Guess I better take this little dino home.”
“Want me to get you a cab?” Cal asked.
Whitney waved him off. “Like I haven’t taken a sleeping child on the subway before.” She snorted. “What kind of New Yorker do you think I am?”
“I’m not even going to dare to answer that,” Cal said.
“Smart man,” Whitney said before turning to me. “Nice meeting you, Kathleen.”
“You too,” I said.
“I’m sure we’ll see each other around,” Whitney said.
She exchanged an awkward hug and cheek kiss with Cal, all around a still-sleeping Sammy.
“Be nice,” she said.
“Me?” Cal asked. “I’m always nice.”
We stood there as Whitney and Sammy walked away.
“So,” Cal said.
His hands were in his pockets.
“Sammy’s not my kid,” he said.
“I didn’t think that for a moment,” I said. It was basically the truth.
Cal gave me a look. I shrugged.
“Too cute to be your kid,” I said.
“Ha,” he said. “I think the CrushZone fan club might disagree with you.”
“It still exists?”
Cal thought about it for a moment. “You know, I haven’t checked recently.”
“Maybe Whitney has,” I said.
“If she has, it’s purely for the purpose of embarrassing me.”
“Good,” I said.
“My ego isn’t that robust,” Cal said.
“Please,” I said. “That kid looked at you like you were the best thing since Hamilton.”
“That’s because I’m just the fun uncle type,” he said. “Much easier than being a parent.”
“It is a much shorter time commitment,” I said.
“Suits me perfectly,” he said.
Well. That was something we had in common. It wasn’t the only thing—we used to have a lot in common—but it was kind of a nice reminder.
Then I remembered exactly why it didn’t matter what we had in common.
“Do you think we can make it to the exit without bickering?” Cal asked.
I hated how he made it sound like we were two little kids who were fighting in the backseat. Or like I was the child, and he was the adult.
“I’m sure I can,” I said, probably not helping my case.
“Okay,” he said.
“Wait,” I said.
We were standing in front of the T-Rex.
“Yes?”
“I’m not ready to leave,” I said.
“Oh,” he said.
“You can go,” I said.
He looked up at the dinosaur and down the hall toward the other exhibits.
“I don’t think I’m ready to leave either,” he said.
“Oh,” I said.
Guests walked around us, the two of us very much in the way.
“I don’t suppose you’d want to—”
“We can just ignore each other,” I said at the same time Cal was gesturing back toward the rest of the museum.
“Okay,” he said.
Had he been about to ask if I wanted to spend the rest of the day with him? We’d only just declared a truce of sorts—taking a leisurely walk through the Natural History Museum seemed a little too advanced for where we were at.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Were you—”
“Nope,” he said. “Let’s just ignore each other.”
I gave him a searching look.
He shrugged, stuck his hands in his pockets, and turned away.
“See you around, Rosenberg,” he said over his shoulder.
“You can bet on it,” I said.
CHAPTER 10
I would have made a fortune if I had.
Because no matter where I went in the museum, Cal was there. Every exhibit, every hallway, even the goddamn planetarium show.
“This is ridiculous,” he said, standing at the end of the aisle, looking at me.
“It’s not my fault that you keep following me,” I said.
“Ha,” he said and sat right next to me.
I raised my eyebrows.
“I’m not moving,” he said. “I’m exhausted. I’ve been chasing a pop star around the museum all day.”
“Ha,” I said.
The silence wasn’t awkward, but it wasn’t not awkward either. The armrest between us remained conspicuously untouched, while we both leaned away from each other as if sharing the same general space might cause us to burst into flames.