Léo Lémieux.
After a quick search on Google, I was exposed to all of his…art.
Screw it, I thought, dialing.
“Bonjour, qui est-ce?” he answered.
“Hi, it’s Amelia from the art museum.” Great. Just beautiful. That’s the best I could up with.
“Amelia from the art museum? Hmmm, I apologize. That’s not ringing any bells.”
“Not funny,” I said, even though I was smiling.
“Oh, Amelia London. Sorry, you would not believe how many Amelias I randomly meet in art museums.”
“Are you an artist or an aspiring comedian?” I asked.
“What can I say? I’m a man of many talents.”
“Is it too late to take you up on your dinner invite?”
He paused before speaking again. “What about the man with the scowl permanently glued on his face? There’s no point if he’s just going to pop up and steal you away again, is there?”
“The only way anyone can steal me is if they own me first. He’s just … an old friend.”
“Okay. Do you know where the Le Vieux Château Laurier is?”
No, I did not, but I wouldn’t mind if he said it one more—a few more—times. His voice in my ear was sexy.
“Amelia?”
“Yeah, I got it. What time?”
“It’s eight now, so how about we meet there in an hour?” he asked.
“Perfect. See you then. Au revoir.” That was about all the French I knew.
“Not ‘au revoir’ but ‘à bientôt’…see you soon,” he replied, hanging up.
I swear everything sounds better in French.
Chapter Six
Amelia
Ollie was sprawled on the couch, papers all around him. He was beyond exhausted, which only worked to my advantage as I got ready. I did my best to shower, brush my hair, and do my own makeup within forty-five minutes. Luckily the restaurant he chose wasn’t too far from my hotel. At first, I reached for a pair of black heels, but remembering his comment earlier, I took the flats instead. Picking up my purse, I snuck out the door. I’m twenty-five. I shouldn’t have needed to sneak anywhere, but I didn’t want to fight with Ollie about this tonight. No matter what, I was going to do what I wanted to do.
Thank god, I thought when I shut the door.
“You look nice,” said a voice behind me.
“Jesus Christ!” Startled, I jumped, spinning around to find Austin, dressed in—but of course—a suit and tie. I don’t think I’d ever seen the man relax.
“Going somewhere?” he asked.
“Yes. But that’s none of your business.”
“It wouldn’t be to see a Canadian artist, would it?”
“Again, none of your business. Good night, Austin,” I repeated, reaching for my phone as I headed down the hall.
“You didn’t even see him,” Austin said.
“What?”
“Every night, Noah sits on the balcony and smokes. Of course, you’d never know that because you don’t come out. Or at least you didn’t until tonight, when you were you so taken with your phone call that you didn’t check,” he said when he caught up to me at the elevators.
“So what? I should feel bad? Noah and I aren’t anything but co-stars. He’s made that perfectly clear, so why would I even bother checking—”
“Because he checks for you,” he interrupted me, as though the words coming out of my mouth didn’t even matter. “He checks for you every time he goes out there. If your curtains even move, his whole body language changes. And now to stop himself from chasing after you, he’s in the bathroom popping pills.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because you want to know!” he snapped. “You want to know why you and he don’t work. You want to be in there, but because you can’t, you’re going elsewhere. You both were children who were forced to become adults, and now you’re adults who are acting like children. Him self-destructing, you utterly confused because you don’t want to love him, so you try and love someone else. I’ve seen this movie before. We’ve. All. Seen. This. Movie. Before. So spare me, Amelia, and ask yourself where you really want to be right now. Pick a place. Don’t look back. Stay there.”
As if he timed it, the elevators door opened, and he stepped inside, exhaling deeply.
“I’m too old to be dealing with this shit,” he mumbled as the door shut, leaving me completely alone in the middle of the hall.
I had to pick a place. Noah’s room, or a restaurant with Léo.
I didn’t know Leo enough to choose! But wasn’t that the point? I knew Noah, or at least I knew enough about him to know that I shouldn’t hesitate at the chance to try something new. Anything was better than being heartbroken once again by Noah Sloan, right?
“I’m here,” Léo texted me.
I stared at for what felt like forever before texting back, “À bientôt.”
Noah
“Fuck,” I sneered. My hands were shaking so damn much I couldn’t open the pill bottle. “Austin!”
No answer.
“Austin…I need…” The lid snapped opened, and the pills flew everywhere but the one place they needed to go.
Of all the times Austin had to disappear, it had to be now.
Sliding to the tile floor, I clenched the bottle in my hands as they trembled, tucking my legs to my chest.
Breathe.
Just breathe.
Keep breathing. Nothing else mattered. I just had to keep breathing.
“What happened?” Austin finally returned, but I kept my eyes closed.
“I missed my mouth.”
“Not funny, especially taking into account what I had to do to get these pills,” he muttered. “I really thought she’d come.”
That got my attention. “Who’d come where?” I asked.
“I tried to stop Amelia from going—”
“Why? Why would you do that?”
“Because you’re still in love with her, you idiot.” He took two pills off the counter and stuffed them in my mouth. “And because I knew this would happen. My job is to get you what you need, right? Well, you need Amelia.”
“I’m fine,” I said.
“Yeah, you definitely look fine right now.” He helped me up from the floor, and I leaned on the counter for support.
“So she went to see him,” I said. I hated the fact that I cared enough to ask him, even now.
“Yeah. I made her late, so she had to run—”
“A ‘yeah’ would have sufficed.” Why was she running? She was just going to make herself look desperate. She was an Oscar-winning actress, for God’s sake. If the dimwit didn’t wait, she shouldn’t want to see him anyway.
“Do you need anything?” Austin asked.
“I’m fine.” It was my default answer, and I knew it annoyed the hell out of him. My feet felt heavy, and even though I was no longer shaking, my hands still ached. All I wanted to do was lie down.
“Why do you always say you’re fine when you’re not fine?” said a woman’s voice.
There she was, sitting in the middle of my bed in a bright yellow dress, her shoes forgotten at the edge of the bed and a bottle of vodka in her hand. When I turned to look at Austin, he was staring at her with just as much confusion as I was.
“Didn’t you have a date?” he asked her.
“I did,” she smiled, twisting the top off the bottle. “And funny enough, he was actually there on time, with a flower for me. It was cute. No, it was romantic…or it would have been romantic had your manager not screwed with my head before I went to see him. So I only stayed for a second, bought a bottle of vodka, and came back here…to you. Because I’m a fucking idiot. So, let’s get on with it.”