“Get the fuck over yourself. This isn’t about George, it’s about you.”
She felt like he’d slapped her. This was about keeping the ones that she loved safe, even Billy.
“Stella,” he said, shaking her out of her own head.
She shook her head in disagreement. No way.
“Admit it. You want revenge. Doesn’t have anything to do with George. You admit that to me and then we’ll talk more.” He started playing his game and put his legs back on the coffee table.
Stella took a sip of wine and petted Cooper. Maybe she had been lying to herself.
I’m more fucked up than I thought.
The next day, Stella hurried out of her office and onto K Street. She and Millie were meeting at Café Carvy for a quick lunch. Stella wanted to run an idea by Millie. She voxed her en route.
“Lunch Box, I—” She busted out laughing. “This is Magic Box. I’m almost there. Get me whatever you’re having.”
Her Voxer app beeped and she heard Millie laughing. “I may have to get Patrick to start calling me that too.”
Stella smiled as she walked across 19th St. and found Millie standing in line.
“What’d you get us?”
“Turkey,” Millie responded. “I have to watch what’s in this lunch box. Don’t want it to get overfilled, you know?”
“Fucking gross, Millie.” She slapped Millie’s arm and Millie laughed hysterically. “How was y’all’s date last night?”
“It was fine; we went to that Italian place in Old Town. I was surprised you were already in bed when we got home.”
“I went downstairs to think and ended up falling asleep.” She shrugged and picked up her sandwich from the counter.
Millie led them over to a small table outside. “Whatcha thinking about?”
“I want to surprise George in Iowa. Do you think he’d like that?”
Taking a big bite of her sandwich, Millie nodded. “Yes,” she said with her mouth full. “Definitely.” Millie’s phone dinged; she looked at it and smiled. “We’re on Twitter. Let’s do a selfie and I’ll post it.”
“A selfie?” Stella laughed. “I don’t want to have anything to do with your selfie.”
“A fucking picture, Stella. I’ll post it on Twitter. You do need good things on there, you know.”
“Oh, like where I’m eating lunch?” Stella was incredulous that anyone would give a shit where she was having lunch.
“Yes, like where we’re eating lunch. It’s already on there anyway.”
Relenting, Stella leaned into Millie and spread her perfected fake grin across her lips. Millie took a picture and then posted it.
“See? Easy peasy.”
“We’ll have to leave in like, ten minutes or people will come over here trying to kill me,” Stella joked.
“So, Patrick told me the FBI is using you for bait now,” Millie commented, then took another bite of her sandwich.
“Fuck…who hasn’t Patrick told?” Stella rubbed her face with the palm of her hand.
“He’s worried. I think talking about it helps him.” Millie shrugged. “Hot dress, by the way. It makes your ass look amazing.”
“My ass is amazing,” Stella said with a valley girl accent and Millie laughed.
“I’ve told you this a number of times, but I really don’t understand how dumb, don’t forget to pronounce the b, please, you are. Your plan or strategy or whatever it is…is pure…dumbassery.”
Stella stopped mid-bite and put her sandwich down. An amused smile played on her lips. “Dumbassery?” Millie nodded, chewing.
“That’s not a word.”
“It should be and you would be the definition.” Millie put her sandwich down too. She spread her hands around Stella’s face, framing it. “Your fucking picture is the definition of dumbassery.”
Chapter Seventeen
Fight for Us
She walked in the hotel bar and looked around. She didn’t see George until a woman moved and she got a glimpse of his blue oxford shirt and khakis. His hair was too long and curled over his ears. The woman was pretty, professional, and clearly in a serious discussion with Stella’s boyfriend. The woman and George were undoubtedly familiar; they were too close to be strangers. The woman’s head fell back in a cackle and she slapped his arm, yelling, “Will, you’re so bad!” All the anticipation of getting there to see George evaporated and a small twinge of emotion formed in her gut.
Straightening herself, Stella walked to the bar and ordered a drink, all the while watching the exchange going on between George and this woman. The woman put her hand on his and he moved it once, twice; if she moved her red head any closer to George she would be kissing him. Abruptly, George stood, creating distance between himself and the woman. His eyes widened as he saw Stella sitting at the end of the bar, sipping a vodka tonic. She raised her glass toward him as he made his way to where she was sitting.
“Love?” He bent to kiss her cheek, his voice tight.
“I wanted to surprise you,” she admitted with a shrug. “Surprise.”
“Shit, El. It’s not what you think…” he trailed off, looking back where the redhead sat studying them.
“That’s too cliché for us, don’t you think?” Stella stared into the clear liquid in her glass. Is this really how this will end? He cheats on me? “I don’t blame you, you know,” she said honestly. “I just wish you would’ve told me.”
He sat down heavily on the barstool next to her. “Blame me for what?”
She motioned toward the redhead. “Wanting someone else.”
George’s head fell to the bar and he sighed audibly.
“You’d be crazy not to.” Stella finished her drink in a gulp and pushed herself away from the bar. The wall she’d been fighting for over a year started rebuilding itself. “I’m going to see if I can get an earlier flight.” Stella turned and walked out of the bar, her hand shaking as she called a cab.
George grabbed the phone out of her hand and disconnected the call. “You know, it really pisses me off that you’re just willing to give up on us, El.” He started walking toward the elevators with her phone.
She followed him and stood, looking at him, wishing things were different; wishing that she was different. She took in his wrinkled clothes, tired eyes and disheveled hair. “What’s going on with you?” She asked as she followed him into the elevator.
“I’ve been working for 11 days straight. I’m worried about you. I need to write a good story so I can continue to do what I love.” George leaned against the wall of the elevator, his head resting against it.
“I’m not wearing any underwear because I thought as soon as we saw each other we’d attack each other.” Stella looked down. “I didn’t know you were being attacked by other women.” She exited the elevator and waited for him to show her to his room. “Who was the redhead?”
“Jessica.” George opened the door and waited for Stella to go in ahead of him.
Stella stood in the entryway near the door in case she wanted to escape this conversation. She’d rather just leave and not confront this very uncomfortable situation. She knew their relationship was too good to be true and it was sort of a relief to have George end it.
“So, are you fucking her?”
“Fuck, El.” George was exasperated. “No. And why do you even care if you just want to leave me?”
“George, I don’t want to leave you, but I will if that’s what you want,” she said sincerely; she would do whatever he wanted her to do.
“Why would you think I’d want you to be anywhere other than with me? After everything? I don’t know how much more I can do to show and tell you how much I love you.” His voice was weary, his eyes tired, his fight almost non-existent.