Numbly, I finish up my morning routine. I should feel happy because I guess no damage has been done, but instead, I just feel depressed. What? How can this be happening? And yet I feel that the fifty pound weight sitting on my shoulder has somehow morphed into a hundred pound monster. It’s that bad.
I head downstairs, grab a muffin from the kitchen, and then veer into the living room. I sit down on the sofa and pick at my breakfast. The food tastes like Styrofoam, but then, it’s been that way since Katie left. After what happened, my appetite pretty much evaporated, and it was like there was a constant knot in my throat, threatening to choke me. I’m basically eating to survive at this point.
“Hmm, I wonder what’s on.” TV is like food these days as well. Just a tool used to numb the emotion in my chest. I flip on the screen and start flicking through channels listlessly.
I end up on some celebrity show. A crumb from my muffin has fallen between the cushions, and I fish it out as the TV drones on about some Hollywood drama involving an elderly man’s will, and his squabbling descendants. Once I find the crumb, I throw it out. Of course, I have housekeepers who clean up around the penthouse, but I don’t like to make their jobs any harder than they need to be.
Fed up with the show, I grab the remote and pull up the channel guide, trying to find something else to watch. As I do so, the show is still in the upper part of the screen in a tiny box. This TV has so many features that it’s kind of annoying to be honest.
I’m going along, not really listening to the drone of the host at this point. But then, a certain name rings in my ears.
“So, did you hear the latest about Hollywood heartthrob Tom Benning? He’s got a new girl under his arm,” coos the announcer.
“Yeah, she’s gorgeous,” purrs another voice. “So stylish. She’s giving Meghan and Kate a run for their money!”
My eyes dart involuntarily toward the top portion of the screen, and what I see in that tiny box has me cursing. “Fuck!”
In the picture is Tom, a celebrity I once called my friend. He looks the same, with his golden hair shining in the light and piercing blue eyes. But what I see next makes me sick. He’s got an arm wrapped around Katie’s waist, and pulls her close for a quick smooch. Then he flashes a bright smile at the camera, looking like the cat who got the cream.
Oh, it’s like that, is it?
The two of them look like a goddamn headline, while all I want to do is take a baseball bat and bash the TV to bits.
Fuck.
Fury springs up inside of me like a well. Before I know what I’m doing, I hurl the remote at the flat screen television that hangs over the fireplace.
How could she?
Goddamit!
How stupid could I be? I should have known better. To think, I’d assumed Katie would be sitting at home with her mother this whole time. I thought they’d be eating popcorn and having girl talk, but instead she’s swanning about town on Tom Benning’s arm like she doesn’t have a care in the world. No wonder that text was so emotionless; it’s because she’s already moved on.
I snatch up my phone and scroll through my contacts until I find Tom’s number. Oh, he’s going to get a piece of my mind. He’ll be chewed to cud by the time I’m done with him. Heat rolls off my face as I imagine what I’m going to say, and a sweat breaks out on my back.
Tom used to work for me before his career got rolling. Hell, I’m the one who put him in touch with his goddamn agent. If it weren’t for me, he’d still be moonlight as a D-list actor. No one would even know his name!
I dial the number.
Ring… ring… ring…
“I’m sorry, but the number you have dialed is no longer in service,” an automated female voice tells me through the line.
“Oh, go to hell.” I hang up and dial again to the same effect. “Damnit!”
On the TV, Katie continues to smile at her new boy toy, and I can’t deny how beautiful she is. Her hair is curled to perfection, lying in waves about her slim shoulders. Her skin gleams like porcelain even as she flashes the cameras a dazzling smile. Fuck.
I try to tell myself that she’s just a slut – that I shouldn’t be wasting my time – but my heart knows better. She’s no slut, and I deserve what’s happening to me.
Quickly, I dial my assistant, Jesse.
“Hey, boss, what’s up? I’m just about done here–”
“Look, I don’t care about those expense reports right now.”
