“Exactly what are you up to?”
“Come on, Red. Don’t you want to pay Dicky back just a little bit?” His eyes flashed.
Ricky’s parting words had haunted me for a year. I was just starting to shake them off, and now he was back in my life again, happily using me to make another connection.
Would I like to see him get some comeuppance?
“Let’s do it.”
* * *
The second floor of the Ash was separated into the Projection Booth bar and the Screening Room, the impenetrable VIP area. The Screening Room’s thick metal door had started life in a bank vault. It was flanked by staff who filled their suits like they moonlighted as cage fighters.
We were waiting in the Booth as John entered, trailing behind the maître d’.
“So much for this place being exclusive,” NOB said, gesturing toward the doors.
“I can assure you, Mr. Chester,” said the maître d’ in a broad Huddersfield accent. “If anyone was in there using your card, I’d know about it.”
On cue, a waitress stepped between us all to get to the doors, carrying the champagne and NOB’s pass. We all watched as NOB plucked the black card off her tray. The maître d’s face turned bone white. John started to move discreetly toward the staircase.
“Well, I’m certainly not in there,” said NOB. “Step two,” he muttered to me as the maître d’ pulled out his walkie-talkie.
“We have a Code Black situation. Can all staff with Interloper protocol security training please make their way to the Screening Room now.”
A minute later, we’d been pushed back to a “safe distance” and NOB had claimed the champagne bottle “for the distress.” About five staff members had assembled in front of the metal vault door, standing straight-backed. The maître d’ indicated to them to turn their flashlights on and then put his finger on his mouth. He held his arm up straight and then swung it low toward the VIP area.
The bouncers heaved the door open.
“Go, go, go!” the maître d’ shouted, and they all filed through after him one by one, swinging their flashlights.
We spied Jodi and Ricky inside the dimly lit room, cowering as the spotlights hit them and the staff huddled around them.
Ricky called out in relief when he spotted us in the doorway. NOB waved at him.
“See,” I heard Ricky say. “We’re with him.”
When the crowd of staff members turned to us, NOB went from waving to an exaggerated shrug, as if he had no idea what Ricky was talking about.
Jodi took a step away from my ex, distancing herself. Seeing the confidence slide off Ricky’s face was priceless.
“What now?” I said to NOB.
“Now for step three.” He grinned. He took a swig of the champagne, pulled me in close, and kissed me.
Chapter 30
Ezra
INT: GIL’S COFFEE HOUSE—SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 3, 11:30 A.M.
BEN and ANETTE are sitting at their usual table, reading. The door to Gil’s opens. They both look up, see that it’s a stranger, and drop their gazes again. There are two empty mugs of hot chocolate in front of them. BEN glances at the third mug by the chair next to him. It is still full, though the whipped cream is now puddled on the table. He drags his attention back to his copy of National Geographic. ANETTE looks up briefly from her book, eyeing her dad with a knowing expression. The door to Gil’s opens. Both father and daughter look up.
I relaxed when I saw Ben and Anette were still here. I made sure they’d seen me, then fired off a message to JEMS. I’d overslept this morning. It was as though everything over the last few months—the agency being at risk, the meet-cutes, then encountering Ricky—had finally caught up with me. Once the thrill of seeing my ex get his comeuppance had faded, last night had become yet another failed meet-cute—despite what NOB had insisted, I hadn’t been convinced by our drink. Or that kiss. And with only two weeks to go until the deadline, I was running out of chances to find Mr. Happy Ending. I’d fallen into bed utterly spent, waking late to find JEMS full of unread messages about my date with Peter, two missed calls from Maria, and a photograph from Ben’s phone: three hot chocolates, sent just after ten a.m. After that I’d rushed all the way here.
EVIE: I’m so sorry guys! I slept in
SARAH: finally! You had us worrying. I do have wedmin to be getting on with, you know
JEREMY: when you add “min” to words it gives me a mingraine
MARIA: I’m glad you’re OK, but in the future an “I’m not dead” text after a blind date would be appreciated. So . . . was he Mr. Happy Ending?
EVIE: he was NOB
MARIA: WHAT??
EVIE: he told me I could stop searching. He said he’d fallen for me
JEREMY: what a dick
MARIA: that man. He will do anything to stop you from finding someone just so he doesn’t have to finish his own bloody script!
SARAH: how many times do I have to tell you, Evie? You CAN stop searching. I’ve already found you the perfect plus-one for my wedding!!
It should have been reassuring to see my friends instantly jump to the same conclusion that I had last night—the one that had made me head straight home after the Ash. Of course NOB had been lying to distract me from meeting someone. He was dragging his heels about finishing the script, and my lack of success with the meet-cutes was the perfect excuse. The smoking-hot screenwriter doesn’t fall for the assistant in real life. And yet a part of me wished my friends hadn’t been quite so certain he wouldn’t.
Enough with the self-pity. I had to focus on finding my real Mr. Happy Ending so I could prove NOB wrong about rom-coms and then rub his face in it. No more distractions, no more excuses. I’d do two meet-cutes a day if I had to.
So why are you still thinking about that kiss?
As I reached the table, Ben stood up. He waved and I lifted my hand—before seeing Xan return Ben’s gesture from across the room.
“I’m so sorry I’m late! You’re not going, are you?”
I quickly lowered my arm.
“We waited for you,” Anette said, pointing to the now-cold mug of hot chocolate left on the table. The flake listed in the melted cream. Ben raised his dark brows at me.
“It’s still good,” I said, sitting down and sipping the cold, sweet liquid. I tried not to gag. “Yum.” I looked up at Ben. He really was quite tall. “Could you stay for another round?”