I pointedly return the gaze, staring at Gabe’s hands. No ring.
Still, he holds them up, like a magician pretending he has nothing to hide.
But ten years ago, that hadn’t been the case.
Gabe had lied to me about Jacinda.
When he flew to Vegas days after the interview went viral, he’d made me feel like a fool.
Not just because I’d repeated that lie about them to the whole world in my article, but because I’d believed him. If I had known…
I’d felt a lot of things when I heard the news, but mostly I felt angry and humiliated. It’s what I allowed myself to feel. Because those emotions were powerful and protective. They helped keep Gabe and my memories of him at arm’s length. It was easier to be angry at him.
I summon that anger again.
Gabe, of course, has no idea what is going on in my head. He’s looking at me, studying me, but I’m doing everything I can to keep my expression neutral.
“It’s you,” he says.
As if he hadn’t just had his hand on my elbow. As if he hadn’t come across the room to get me. As if we haven’t just walked over to this table and sat down together. As if it hasn’t been ten years since I walked out of his rental house in Laurel Canyon, blinking in the sunlight, the ground beneath me somehow farther away than it had been the day before.
If I’m not careful, I’ll crack. I’ll smile at him. I’ll melt.
It will be as if I’ve learned nothing.
Instead, I lean into my anger.
“Mr. Parker,” I say.
He frowns.
“That bad, huh?” he asks.
I take out my phone. Set it to record.
“Shall we begin?”
THE RUMOR MILL
GABCINDA CONFIRMED…AND WED
Just days after a Broad Sheets profile championed the newest Bond, Gabe Parker surprised fans by leaving set to marry co-star Jacinda Lockwood in Las Vegas. The now viral article refuted any involvement between the two, but it’s clear that reporter Chani Horowitz didn’t get the whole story.
The marriage was confirmed by both Parker’s and Lockwood’s management, who then released a statement saying “Gabe and Jacinda’s relationship—and their marriage—will remain private, but they appreciate the outpouring of love and support from their fans.”
It’s quite a reversal from their recent claims that they were just friends.
As for Lockwood, she’s gained herself a reputation for being a heartbreaker and home-wrecker, having been linked to Parker’s former co-star Oliver Matthias and more than one married director. She’s continued to deny all rumors, even after she was named in a particularly scandalous divorce settlement.
“I was just as surprised as everyone else,” Horowitz said when reached for comment. “I wish them nothing but the best.”
Chapter
9
Gabe gestures for me to order first.
They still have that same sour beer, which I get with my burger.
“Wait,” I tell the waitress, after Gabe asks for a burger and water. “No beer.”
His sobriety is one of the things we’re supposed to talk about today. One of the things he’s been very transparent in discussing.
“It’s okay,” Gabe says.
The waitress—not Madison, but a bracingly young brunette—pauses, pen poised above the order pad.
“Are you sure?” I ask.
“I’m flattered you still like that one,” he says.
I’d forgotten how damn charming he is.
“Okay,” I say. “Keep the beer.”
I can already tell I’m going to need it.
The waitress nods, and if she’s impressed by Gabe’s celebrity, she doesn’t show it. She leaves and I check the recording app.
“Shall we begin?” I ask again.
“If you’d like,” Gabe says.
“That’s why I’m here,” I say.
He gives me a long searching look.
“All right,” he says when he’s done.
I feel squirmy under his gaze, and it takes everything in my power to keep from shifting in my seat. I sit tall instead, and tap my pen on my open notebook.
This time, I came prepared.
Because I feel like I have something to prove. To Gabe. To myself.
I’m nervous, but it’s not the same kind of nervousness. Back then, I’d approached my interviews with a certain arrogance, a confidence that I could make something out of whatever I received.
Sometimes I look back on my twenty-six-year-old self and am amazed at the boldness with which she approached the world. Sometimes I look back and wince at her unfounded confidence.
Right now, I’m wincing.
“Your career has taken some interesting twists and turns since we last spoke,” I say.
“That’s a generous way of saying I drunkenly embarrassed myself in front of the entire world and got fired from a role no one thought I deserved in the first place,” Gabe says. “And that was just the beginning.”
“You still don’t think you deserved to be Bond?” I ask, even though the answer is obvious.
When it was discovered that he had been partially correct—that the producers and Ryan Ulrich had lied about him being the first choice, when the real reason they’d chosen him over Oliver had been revealed, I’d thought about that. How it made sense that someone who had gotten the role of a lifetime could be as miserable about it as Gabe had been.
It’s why I wasn’t that surprised when his tenure as Bond ended the way it did.
He stares at his hands, palms down on the table.
“Who really feels that they deserve the good things they get?” he asks.
I don’t have a response for him, and already this interview is more philosophical and unguarded than our last one.
Back then, Gabe seemed like he’d rather chew off his right arm than speak freely about anything. Now, he seems hell-bent on exposing himself—warts and all.
I don’t know whether or not to take it personally.
“Let’s talk about sobriety,” I say.
Even though he’s done numerous interviews about it, I know it’s still the thing most people want to read about. I know Broad Sheets wants a quote or two.
“Let’s,” Gabe says.
“How long have you been sober for?”