Grey dutifully followed, walking alongside Audrey as she led her through the tastefully minimalist open-plan office. To Grey’s surprise, they passed by Audrey’s office, encased in glass with floor-to-ceiling windows, in favor of a room with unfashionably opaque walls. As if reading her mind, Audrey whispered in a faux-conspiratorial tone, “I thought you two might want some privacy.”
Grey’s heart practically leapt out of her throat. She wanted to run as fast as her ankle boots would take her, past the junior publicists, past the bored receptionist, back down the sleek elevator and out the front door. Or maybe just skip the middleman and jump straight out the window. She wasn’t ready for this. She needed more time. Despite the aggressive air-conditioning, she felt a bead of sweat trickle down her lower back. Ethan Atkins was on the other side of that door.
As a tween, Grey had pulled a page out of Seventeen, taking painstaking care not to accidentally rip it more than necessary, and taped it on the wall next to her pillow. For two years, Ethan Atkins had smiled bashfully down at her, hair flopping over one eye, thumb innocently hooked into the pocket of his jeans. The other hand casually lifted his T-shirt over a stretch of lean stomach, revealing the hint of a golden ab or two, along with the tantalizingly defined V of his hip bone dipping below his waistband.
She had taken it down once she entered high school and the possibility of real-life boys one day being in her room had crossed her mind. But by then, she’d reread the neon-pink text so many times it was almost imprinted on the back of her eyelids.
CRUSH OF THE MONTH: Ethan Atkins, 22
Birthday: September 3rd
Hometown: Queens, NY
Turn-ons: Confidence.
Turnoffs: Being fake.
As of right now, she was zero for two.
Time seemed to slow down as Audrey turned the handle. Grey couldn’t hear anything but the pounding of blood in her ears as Audrey pushed the door open to reveal…an empty room.
Grey exhaled audibly. Audrey looked back at her and Grey thought she saw a look of sympathy flash across her face. Grey blushed.
“Ethan’s running a little late, but I thought you might be more comfortable waiting in here. We have your lunch ready and waiting—we’ll bring it in as soon as he gets here.”
Grey forced herself to smile, swaying in place a little as the adrenaline drained out of her body. She nodded absently and took a seat in one of the plush leather office chairs. “Thanks, Audrey.”
“No problem. Can I bring you anything? Water? Coffee?”
Grey shook her head and pulled her stainless steel water bottle out of her bag.
“I’m all set. But thanks.”
“Of course. Shouldn’t be too much longer.”
Audrey shut the door with a snap and Grey could hear her stilettos clicking a retreat along the hallway. Good. She’d have some warning when she came back.
Grey leaned back in the chair and spun it to face the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. She’d gotten her wish for more time, but now it was starting to feel like a curse. There was no way she would be able to focus on anything until the moment Ethan walked through the door. Grey took out her phone but didn’t unlock it. She stared out the window, watching the traffic patterns undulate far below her. The minutes crawled by.
Unprompted, a vision popped into her head of him entering the room while she was still facing the window. She would slowly and dramatically turn the chair around, eyebrows arched, fingers tented in her best Bond villain impersonation.
Well, well, well. The infamous Mr. Atkins. I’ve been expecting you. Please, have a seat. I believe we have some business to discuss.
The image was enough to ease her nerves somewhat. This was no big deal. She’d met plenty of big celebrities before. She’d definitely eaten lunch before. She’d eaten it yesterday! This would be exactly like yesterday’s lunch, except instead of eating reheated pad thai alone in her underwear in front of an old episode of MTV’s True Life, she’d be eating trendy vegan takeout with her former preteen crush turned acclaimed Alister turned mysterious tortured recluse turned future fake boyfriend.
Grey swallowed. Okay, now she was nervous again. She pulled Golden Kingdom out of her bag and flipped it open to her bookmark. She’d made decent progress since her call with Renata, and it seemed like Catalin already had a much meatier role in this installment than in the first. Grey reread the same sentence at least ten times before she was finally able to process its meaning. When it became clear that Ethan wasn’t about to burst through the door at any moment, she felt herself relax a little bit and sink into the narrative.
About fifteen minutes later, she heard the door creak open and slammed the book shut. Audrey poked her head in.
“Just me again. Sorry for the wait, shouldn’t be too much longer. He’s on his way.”
“Oh. Um, that’s okay. Thanks for letting me know.” She returned to her book. Another thirty minutes passed, with an increasingly perturbed-looking Audrey stopping by twice more to assure her that Ethan would be arriving any minute and thank her so much for being patient. Grey’s stomach growled, her mood beginning to sour.
Grey heard footsteps approaching again. She slid her book back into her bag and stood up. This was ridiculous. She was just going to tell Audrey thanks but no thanks, there was no way she was giving up her time and her dignity for a relationship that was not only fake, but as of now had only one (barely) willing participant. The door swung open and Grey opened her mouth. Then she saw who was behind Audrey and forgot how to shut it.
The first thing she noticed was how tall he was. Everything looked bigger on-screen, and Grey had met enough movie stars to know that most of them inflated their official heights by at least an inch or two. Not Ethan. He was a full head taller than Audrey, even with the assistance of her stilettos.
The second thing she noticed was that boyish half smile that was so familiar she almost got dizzy, her mind automatically superimposing him over that long-lost magazine page. Maybe “boyish” was the wrong word: his dark hair was streaked with gray, and so was his stubble, and his eyes, pale green as sea glass, looked lined and tired behind horn-rimmed glasses. Somehow, these signs of aging only added to his appeal, transforming him from clean-cut pretty boy into something more hard-edged and interesting. Damn it. It was so unfair that men were allowed to get hotter as they aged, while Grey often felt like she had a ticking clock over her head counting down the years before she would have to choose between being passed over for jobs for aging naturally, or being passed over for pumping her face full of fillers.
He exuded an aura she had only come across in person a handful of times, the aura of the Very Famous. More ephemeral than physical beauty, more powerful and precise than charisma. His posture was slouched, unassuming, as if he were trying to apologize in advance for how larger than life he was. It didn’t help. All Grey knew was that her mouth went instantly dry and her legs felt like they were about to give out beneath her. She leaned discreetly against the table to stabilize herself.
Grey realized that Audrey had been talking the whole time. She tore her eyes off Ethan’s face to focus back on her. His gaze had been locked on Grey with an unreadable expression, his brow slightly creased.
“…just go and check on your food,” Audrey said, darting back out the door and leaving them alone.
Alone.
Grey looked back at him. She swallowed. She was supposed to say something. She stuck out her hand.
“Hi, I’m Grey.”
Ethan smiled that half smile again and took it. Grey’s brain short-circuited. The jump from Ethan Atkins is in front of me to Ethan Atkins is touching me was too much for her to process in such a short time.
“Really? You look pretty blond from here,” he said drily.
Grey blinked up at him dumbly. Was that a joke about her name? The sensation of his hand around hers was frying her synapses.
“What?”
He shook his head.
“Sorry. I don’t know why I said that.” He pulled his hand back abruptly and stuck it into his pocket, clearing his throat and looking away. “Stupid,” he muttered to himself under his breath. To her, he said, “It’s…it’s good. It’s a good name.”