When I turn in the direction of my room, a sharp, low voice halts me dead in my tracks.
“You know why the hell I’m here.”
Twisting my head around, I try to see where the voice is coming from, but there’s no one in the hallway. There’s the sound of a deep chuckle. My ears prick.
Slowly, I walk in the direction of the sound. I stop short when I reach the corner of the hallway on the opposite side of the floor from where my room is.
And then I see it. From my angle, I spot the broad spread of Drew’s shoulders. In front of him stands Blaine.
My stomach curdles. I dart behind the wall and freeze so they can’t see me.
“I have a bone to pick with your little girlfriend,” Blaine spits out. The hateful way he says it makes my skin flash with fire.
“That’s not happening,” Drew says calmly.
There’s a moment of tense silence when neither of them says a word. I hold my breath. Then Blaine finally speaks.
“Then how about a goddamn apology for sucker punching me the other night? Fuck, that hurt,” Blaine whines.
I expect Drew to refuse, to tell Blaine to get the hell out.
But he doesn’t. Instead he does something I never in a million years thought he would do. He laughs.
The lightness of his voice makes my skin crawl.
“Okay, man, I’m sorry,” Drew says. I can tell he’s smiling too. “But you know how it is. You’re there with your girl; you gotta put on a show. I couldn’t bitch out.”
There’s another second of silence before Blaine cracks a chuckle.
“Okay, okay. You got me there,” Blaine says.
“Truce?”
“Truce.”
I hear a soft clapping noise. They must have just shook hands . . . but why? Why is Drew all of a sudden interested in being pals with Blaine? My brain spins with confusion. After everything he said about Blaine . . . After what he said to me that night and earlier today . . . The way he comforted me, that look in his eyes that made me believe that he was behind me one hundred percent . . .
“Look, man, we’re all about getting a good lay.”
Drew’s voice sounds so foreign right now. He doesn’t sound like himself, like the sincere, sweet guy I know. He sounds like a douche-bro who’s trying to impress someone.
My head goes foggy and I flash back to that day standing outside Reid’s office. My ears ring . . . all I can hear is him telling outright lies about me over the phone.
She’s fucking crazy.
She’s practically obsessed with me.
I need her gone ASAP.
We’re all about getting a good lay.
The words blur together in my mind until Drew’s and Reid’s voices start to sound the same.
Blaine speaking pulls me back to the present.
“That’s what you did with Alia, isn’t it?”
The slimy lilt to his voice when he says my name makes my skin crawl. I bite down so hard, my jaw feels like it’s going to break.
“How’d you guess, man? That was my plan all along. String her along this whole shoot, and then ditch her,” Drew says. “How could I not? She made me host. I’ve been dying for a break like this for years. And I mean, sorry it cost you your job, but hey. It’s a cutthroat business, right? You gotta take the opportunity when it presents itself.”
Blaine scoffs. “That’s some brutal shit right there.”
“Tell me you wouldn’t have done the same for a job you’ve always wanted.”
“You got me there.”
My head spins faster and faster as the truth of Drew’s words is revealed. I was just a means to an end—a way for him to get the hosting job he always wanted.
Hot tears burn my eyes. Seconds later I hear Drew speaking again.
“When the work is done, I’m done,” he says. “I can’t handle anything serious. I’m not wired that way. I like the chase, the fucking, then I’m gone. Just like you, right?”
Just like Reid.
My heart plummets all the way to the pit of my stomach; my breath lodges in my throat.
Blaine’s taunting laugh hits my ears. I think I might vomit.
“That’s cold, man,” Blaine says. “Even I don’t have it in me to make a girl fall in love with me and then drop her.”
A laugh that doesn’t sound like Drew’s echoes against the walls. My throat throbs with the urge to sob, but I hold it together.
“Then what’s your style?” Drew asks. “I gotta know how the great Blaine Stephens gets those notches on his belt.”
My heart bottoms out completely, and my legs ache with the urge to run away. I can’t stand here and listen to this a second longer.
This isn’t the Drew I know and love.
But maybe the Drew I got to know wasn’t the real Drew at all.
My eyes water as I let the thought soak in. My Drew was a facade. The real Drew is a jerk who talks about me like I’m a conquest and a rung on the professional ladder.
He’s just like Reid. How could I be so foolish?
I run back to my room with tears in my eyes. Then I splash cold water onto my face and force myself to stop crying. I gather all my luggage, check out of the hotel, and meet everyone as they stand in the parking lot by the cars.
“We ready to go?” Wyatt asks as he loads luggage into the van.
“Yup!” Rylan answers.
Wyatt and Joe hop into their van while Haley, Rylan, and I jump into the car I rented. I start the car and head straight for the airport without speaking a word. The whole way, Rylan chats about how Colton is moving to New York at the end of this month. Haley peers back periodically to chat with her.
“You’re awfully quiet,” Haley says to me.
“I don’t have a lot to say at the moment,” I say quietly.
Haley reaches over to pat my arm. “Someone’s missing Drew.”
Rylan lets out an “aww” sound.
I don’t say a word because if I do, I’ll fall to pieces. And I need to keep it together long enough to get through security and board the plane. Thank goodness I’m sitting next to Haley and not anyone else the entire flight. I’m going to break down. I know I am, and Haley is the only person I’m comfortable enough to do that in front of.
And that’s exactly what I do. Through baggage check and security, I keep my composure.
But the moment I fall into my seat on the plane, I start to tear up. My phone buzzes and I glance at the screen.
Drew: Hey, Dunn. Miss you already. Can’t wait to see you tonight.
The tears in my eyes turn angry.
Me: Don’t bother.
Fury commands my movements as I swipe my thumb across my phone screen and block his number. Then I turn off my phone and stare out the window through teary eyes. There’s a tap on my arm. I twist around to see Haley’s face painted with concern.
“Shit . . . What happened, Alia?”
She hands me a packet of tissues. I blow my nose and then tell her the whole awful story.
23
It’s been two days since we’ve been back from Utah, Alia. What are you even doing?” Haley says as she stands in my office.
I don’t glance up at her as I sit at my desk. I keep my eyes glued to my computer screen and focus. I’ve got fifteen minutes until I present the first-episode cut of Discovering Utah to the Expedition network execs.
“I’m trying to work,” I say.
Haley walks over and plops her tiny frame on my desk. “You and I both know that presentation is stellar. You could have given it yesterday in your sleep. And you know that’s not what I’m asking about.” She studies me with those deep-brown eyes. “Are you okay? In the two days that we’ve been back, you haven’t done anything other than edit in your office and then edit at your apartment.”
�
��And find a therapist,” I add, eyes still on my computer.
Haley sighs. “Yes. And that. I’m really proud of you for it. I just wanna make sure you’re okay.”
It didn’t take long after unloading on Haley during the flight for me to realize that I needed some help. Next week I have an appointment with a therapist to talk about what happened with Drew—and my entire dating and relationship history.
I can’t just bury the pain from an awful breakup and hope it magically goes away, like I did with Reid. The trauma from the way things ended with him resurfaced with Drew. This time, I need to actually process my pain, anger, and feelings of betrayal instead of shoving them deep inside me and letting them fester for years and years.
I finally make eye contact with Haley. “I’m not okay. But I will be.” I check the clock. Eleven minutes till presentation time.
“Are you sure you don’t want to talk to Drew?” She flashes that same concerned expression that she did when I quietly sobbed to her on the plane ride back from Utah.
“I have nothing to say to him.”
Drew is the host of the show and that means in all the hours of editing that I’ve done over the past two days, I’ve had to watch clips of him again and again while I edit. Sometimes it’s a comfort, to be reminded of the person he was . . . how happy he made me. But then the unforgivable words he spoke to Blaine resurface, and I’m broken all over again.
“Don’t you think you should at least talk to him?” Haley says, bringing me back to the present. “He’s the new host of your show.”
“Are you serious right now? Don’t you remember what I told you? How he betrayed my trust to Blaine, of all people?”
I try my best to keep my composure, but my eyes water anyway.
She leans over and hugs me. Despite how annoyed I am at her right now, I return the hug because I definitely need it.
“I’m not trying to make excuses for what he did . . . I honestly can’t even begin to fathom why he would want to hurt you like that,” Haley says. “All I’m saying is that if you talk to him, you could tell him off or whatever to help you get a tiny bit of closure. That’s all.”
I sigh, then pull away. She hands me a tissue so I can blow my nose.
“I don’t have the energy for that. I just want to move on. And I want to nail this presentation.”
Haley nods once at me. “You will.”
She reaches into my purse and pulls out my makeup bag to touch me up.
“Better?” I ask.
“Much. You’re going to kill it. I told you that charcoal shift dress with a black blazer would make you look like a sleek corporate shark.”
I laugh at her phrasing. She hops off my desk and walks to the door. “Drinks tonight?”
“Yes, please. Thanks, Haley.”
She tells me to knock ’em dead before leaving my office. I save the last of my work on my laptop, and I am about to head to the conference room when my office phone rings. I answer it.
“Alia?”
The sound of Drew’s voice makes my stomach fall to my feet.
“Drew?”
“I’ve been trying to get ahold of you since I landed back in New York.” He sounds breathless, like he’s been running all over the city looking for me.
My chest squeezes at the sound of his voice. It’s like a weird sort of muscle memory. My body isn’t used to being angry with him, so it’s still fondly remembering all the amazing things he made me feel.
“I blocked your number,” I say sternly.
“Why? Tell me what I did to make you cut off all contact with me. Please, I’m going out of my mind here.”
I bite the inside of my cheek. I absolutely will not cry. “Did you honestly think I wouldn’t find out?”
“Find out what? Alia, please—”
“All those horrible things you said about me in the hallway at the hotel the day I left, Drew! To Blaine, of all people!” I glance up through the glass walls of my office. Thankfully no one in the cubicle farm seems to have noticed my shouting because everyone is fixed on their computers.
There’s a long pause on his end of the line. “Crap . . . Alia, I’m so, so sorry you heard that. That wasn’t part of the plan. But he just showed up and I had to think fast—”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
He stammers for a few seconds. “What I mean to say is that I was planning to tell you that night I landed back in the city about what happened with Blaine, but then I got your text telling me not to bother and you blocked me, so then I couldn’t—”
The reminder on my email sounds. Five minutes until the presentation.
“Drew, just stop.”
“Alia, please just let me explain.”
“Listen to me. I’m only going to ask you this once, and I need you to tell me the truth. Did you tell Blaine that your plan was to string me along for the shoot, then dump me? That all you wanted was the hosting job? Did you tell him you were all about the chase—the fucking—and that was it?”
His sigh echoes against my ear.
“Yes, but I swear, I didn’t mean it like—”
“Stop. Don’t say another word. I have exactly one minute until I have to leave my office to pitch the series and I need to get this out.”
Haley’s words from minutes before sound in my head.
If you talk to him, you could tell him off or whatever you need to tell him to help you get a tiny bit of closure.
But I’m not going to tell Drew off. That won’t make me feel any better. What I will tell him is the truth. Yes, it’s going to hurt, but it’s what I need to do to move on from him—from us.
“You made me feel like Reid made me feel all those years ago—used and worthless. Because I thought you cared about me. The way you acted while we were in Utah, so protective and loving, it made me fall for you so hard”—I swallow to keep my voice from shaking—“I love you, Drew. I was going to tell you that the night you got back from Utah, the night you were supposed to stay at my apartment.”
I pause for a quick breath, continuing before Drew can interrupt me.
“And even now that I know what kind of person you truly are, I don’t regret loving you. Because the person I was when I was with you, that was one hundred percent me. I gave you all of me, and I’m proud I was brave enough to do that. I’ve never, ever done that with anyone else. But I did it with you. And my only regret is that I didn’t figure out your true self sooner. Because you didn’t deserve me.”
I hang up before my voice breaks. Then I tilt my head up, grab a tissue from my desk, and dab until I’m certain no tears will fall.
And then I stand up, grab my things, and walk out of my office and into the conference room where all six executives and Brooke sit at the table, waiting for me.
* * *
• • •
“Gotta say, Alia. This is a pretty risky move.” Byron peers over the top of his glasses at me.
I’m standing at the front of the room, the white wall behind me illuminated with the ending shot of the first episode. It’s Drew standing next to the Delicate Arch, his dazzling smile on display. At the top of the image is the Discovering Utah title in fiery-red block letters, an homage to the landscape of the state.
I open my mouth to address his comment, but another exec, Peter, speaks up. “I like it.” He grins. “A lot. Drew’s a natural.” He spins his chair to Byron. “I was never a fan of that Blaine guy anyway.”
The other execs murmur comments along those lines. I hold my breath, silently telling myself not to interrupt the soft rumbles of positive feedback.
Brooke winks at me. My racing heart settles when I look at the confident expression on her face. She cleared today in her schedule to sit in on my presentation to support me, and so I would have one friendly face in the audience.
S
he turns to the execs. “I think what Alia managed to do on this shoot is nothing less than a miracle. She had a truly horrible and unprofessional host who made it impossible for anyone to do their job, but she found a way around it. On her own. Without going over budget and without pestering any of you to hold her hand. How many other showrunners or producers can you say that about?”
She looks pointedly at Byron, whose clean-shaven cheeks redden.
“That’s a good point,” Peter says.
I flip the screen to show a screenshot of Drew’s social media accounts. “Drew has a solid following on both Instagram and Twitter. Rylan put up teaser photos and video clips during the shoot to entice viewers, and it received a strong response from the public.”
I point out the thousands of views and likes each of Drew’s Utah posts on social media have received. Impressed murmurs follow.
“And I know that Drew doesn’t have the follower count that Blaine does. But I do think the combined follower count he has online isn’t anything to discredit, especially since his engagement is significantly higher than Blaine’s.”
I show a comparison of stats between Drew’s and Blaine’s social media accounts. Drew’s figures are triple Blaine’s.
“I’m confident Blaine’s follower count will continue to fall once the network releases a statement explaining that he was fired due to sexual misconduct,” I add.
“The press release from the network addressing Blaine’s official firing and the assault he committed went out this morning,” Brooke says. “Since then he’s been dropped from all of his remaining sponsors. That reality show he signed on to do in the fall has also axed him.”
Peter sighs. “Blaine’s lawyer is threatening to come after us for not paying out the remainder of his contract—after he deals with the court hearing for the assault charge in Utah.”
Nerves start to swirl at the bottom of my stomach, but I take a breath and address the room.
“That’s not surprising given Blaine’s entitled and lazy behavior that persisted for the whole shoot,” I say. “But every member of the crew gave statements to HR attesting to Blaine’s behavior, which often involved excessive alcohol and illegal drug use that impeded his performance on the job so much so that Drew had to serve as his stand-in for the entirety of the series—in addition to how he sexually harassed and attacked Rylan. I kept track of the dates and the incidents of everything in a spreadsheet that I sent to both HR and legal. And I requested a copy of the police report filed in Moab, which documents the worst of his conduct, and have given that to HR to circulate to our media contacts. All of that would void any claim he would have to compensation.”
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