She knew she shouldn’t take it personally. She shouldn’t have been surprised he would have misogynistic preconceptions about the type of woman who would agree to this. He clearly despised himself for having to resort to it; why would she be excluded from that judgment?
But of course, she was hurt. She couldn’t not take it personally. Grey was forced to admit to herself that, as much as she had tried to avoid thinking about how this meeting would go in the days leading up to it, a tiny part of her had held on to a stupid childish fantasy that he would see her and see her. See her talent, see her work ethic, see her as an equal. Acknowledge that they were both at strange junctures in their respective careers and laugh about it, agreeing to move forward together in this charade based on a foundation of mutual respect (and also maybe they kissed sometimes). Well, that was out the window.
She willed herself to keep her voice low and controlled. If she could hold in her tears for this monologue, she deserved every acting award under the sun, plus a few new ones made up especially for her.
“Actually, I’ve been a working actress since I was eight years old. I don’t think there’s anything exciting about the fact that apparently the only thing that will get anyone to take me seriously is my association with a man whose only ‘work’ the last few years has been working as hard as he can to destroy his career. I think it’s pretty fucked up, honestly.”
Ethan stared at her, slack-jawed. Grey blushed even deeper. She backtracked, stammering. “I’m sorry. That was— I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have— I know you’ve been through— Sorry.”
He rubbed his hand across his stubble like he was assessing the damage after a punch to the jaw. “It’s fine. Fair, even. I shouldn’t have said that. I think…” He fixed her with another piercing, impenetrable stare. “I guess I thought you’d be different.”
Grey wasn’t sure what to make of that. “Sorry to disappoint.”
Ethan shook his head. “No. It’s…it’s good.” He directed the comment to his sweet potato fries. Grey abandoned the pretense of even trying to eat her salad. Her appetite was gone. When she spoke again, her tone was flat and sarcastic, though inside she was boiling.
“So what were you expecting? Some clout-chasing airhead who’ll nod and drool at whatever you say? I’m honored you deigned to grace me with your presence at all, then. Because my time couldn’t possibly be worth anything, right? I have nothing better to do than sit around and wait for you until my ass fuses to this seat?”
Her blood sugar must have plunged dangerously low while she was waiting for him, low enough to disable every filter between her brain and her mouth. That was the only explanation for why she was talking to him like this. One word from him and Audrey would drop her like a hot potato. She’d trained herself to be an expert at biting her tongue, but he’d apparently struck a nerve. Or several.
Ethan’s jaw tightened. He opened his mouth to retort, but he hesitated. The annoyance seemed to drain out of his expression as quickly as it had appeared. He rubbed both his hands over his face and gave a frustrated groan.
“No! I mean—yes. Yes, you’re right. This is coming out all wrong. I don’t…I can’t…” He put his hands down flat on the table and stared at her. His next words were sincere, almost pleading. “I don’t meet a lot of new people these days. I’m not really good at this anymore. I’m sorry…I’m sorry I was late. I’m an asshole.” He laughed humorlessly. “I probably needed to hear all that. I guess Audrey knows me better than I thought,” he muttered. He rubbed his hands against his eyes again like he was fighting a headache.
Then, to her surprise, he dropped his hands and chuckled softly.
“Seems like she doesn’t know you, though.”
“What do you mean?” Grey asked before she could stop herself.
“She told me you were a sweetheart.” He glanced up at her with an expression that bordered on amusement.
Grey felt her chest expand with relief. She hadn’t upset him. Still, she kept her mouth shut. She didn’t trust what would come out if she opened it again. Ethan seemed lost in his own thoughts. They sat motionless, the world’s most boring diorama. They might have sat there for hours, even days, if Audrey hadn’t swanned in the door with a bright smile.
“Hi there you two, how’s it going in here?”
Grey couldn’t meet Ethan’s eyes. She looked at her plate, then at Audrey. Ethan cleared his throat.
“Just getting to know each other a little better.”
Audrey’s eyes swept over their barely touched food. Her brow creased in concern—as much as it could through the tasteful Botox—but her tone revealed nothing. She was a pro.
“That’s great! That’s what we’re here for. So…what do we think? Do we have something here?” Audrey waggled her index finger back and forth between the two of them. Grey forced herself to look back at Ethan.
He inclined his head toward her, not breaking eye contact.
“If she’ll have me.”
A shiver went up her spine. He was leaving it up to her. She could shake his hand, tell him it was nice to meet him, and go back to her life like this surreal encounter had never happened. Audrey probably had an army of ambitious twenty-something blondes exactly like her lined up right outside the door, more than happy to take her place.
But if she was being honest with herself, the option to walk away had disappeared the moment he materialized in the doorway.
She opened and closed her mouth a few times like a goldfish, the words that she couldn’t stop fast enough now deserting her.
Finally she choked out, voice cracking:
“Yeah. Sure. Let’s do it.”
ETHAN OPENED HIS LAPTOP. TOOK a sip of beer. Closed it.
Took another sip. Opened it. Got up from his chair and paced around his office. Sat back down. Took another sip. Closed it.
He’d been repeating this particular pattern long enough that he was now halfway through his fourth beer. By now he was almost buzzed enough to do what he had set out to do when he cracked open the first one. He took a long swig and opened his laptop. Again.
He opened the browser and hesitated over the keyboard. This wasn’t creepy. She was a public figure. She definitely already knew way more about him. This was just leveling the playing field.
Before he could talk himself out of it again, Ethan pulled up a search engine and tapped out a name with his right index finger: Grey Brooks.
Instantly, a menu dropped down with autofilled suggestions of the words most frequently searched with her name. Ethan sighed and drained the bottle. He stood up again and grabbed another beer out of the minifridge next to his desk and popped the cap off. He settled back into his chair, for good this time, and started to work his way down the list, beginning at the top.
Grey Brooks Instagram
@greybrooksofficial, 650k followers. The screen filled with rows of well-curated image cubes: Grey smirking on the red carpet, Grey pouting at a photoshoot, Grey laughing with a friend on a hike. In person, she’d been pretty, even striking. Wide-set blue eyes, dark brows, strong nose, full lips. She’d clearly been nervous when they first met, but the arch of her eyebrows and the naturally downturned corners of her mouth made her resting face look haughty, almost petulant. As their conversation had gone on, she’d softened, her expression becoming open, friendly.
That is, until he’d insulted her.
He’d miscalculated her appeal at first, casually dressed and makeup-free, but when she’d been flushed with emotion while dressing him down, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. How fucked in the head was he that he was most attracted to her when she was calling him out for being a patronizing asshole?