Dirty Sexy Alphas (Twenty Book Box Set) - Hannah Ford Page 0,261

you’re doing the right thing,” she said, tossing a pillow onto the end of the couch. “I think it’ll feel good to face him, and face this whole episode in your life. It’ll be therapeutic.”

I scoffed. “Does my therapy have to be so public?”

“One of my friends who’s an actor said Leo Armstrong was really burned by the whole thing,” Ava Marie replied.

“So burned that I saw pictures of him with some bombshell not long ago.”

Ava Marie shook her head. “That’s not what I hear. I mean, supposedly he hardly goes out anymore. He doesn’t date. He just works. And yeah, he’s been totally focused on this movie but people say he’s different now.”

“Different good or different bad?” I asked.

She shrugged. “No idea. Anyway, I think you’re brave for doing this. Good or bad, when you get back on your flight in two days, you can truly put it all behind you.”

I seriously hoped she was right. But the idea of seeing him in the flesh again, after all this time, made my heart ache and my stomach knot.

I wanted to see him so badly, but knowing he would only hate me was like actual physical pain. And there was no medication that could take it away.

The dress I’d bought for the occasion was from the one nice store in Mechanicsville but it was pretty, or at least I thought it was. Modest, not flashy, with a full skirt, 1950s-style, and a halter top. I didn’t know what message I was trying to convey—all I really hoped was that Leo might see it and remember that this is who I was. A simple girl from a small-town who’d given up everything for him.

I took a car service to the theater. I’d learned last time that parking was a nightmare.

Already I was going into this thing wiser, or so I told myself.

It started as soon as I stepped out of the car near the theater entrance but away from the red carpet (no way was I walking that thing).

Once one reporter spotted me, the others swarmed in. Microphones and television cameras, photographers snapping pictures, everyone yelling my name—it all gave me serious flashbacks to the last time I was at a premiere.

I had managed to escape all of this when I’d gone so far away from Los Angeles, but now I remembered that in this town I was notorious.

Leo was holding this premiere at a smaller, less assuming theater in Westwood instead of the classic, big Grauman’s Chinese Theater of Trigger Happy. That meant one big, saving grace—a shorter walk to the entrance. I knew once I was inside, there would be no more cameras or reporters, and I could let out a sigh of relief.

Cameras may have been absent from inside the theater, but it still felt like all eyes were on me. I roamed the halls as inconspicuously as I could, looking for Leo. I didn’t see him anywhere, but I got lots of side-eye from the other guests.

“Do you know who that is?” one woman said as I passed. “It’s her.”

I tried to keep my chin up and not break into horrific sobs. I didn’t see Leo anywhere—not even Elaine or any of his other assistants. I wondered what I thought I’d say when I saw him. When it was time to take my seat—thankfully on the aisle, where I could make a quick getaway if needed—it was clear he wasn’t there at all.

That was like the final blow to my heart, and it just cracked open.

He knew me well enough to know that I’d be expecting to see him there, but he didn’t respect me enough to even show up.

He truly despised me.

I took deep breaths as the house lights went down and the opening credits began. Tears were already dripping down my cheeks and nothing had even happened yet.

I braced myself for the worst two hours of my life.

I told myself I would sit there through the whole thing, no matter how painful or humiliating. It was the least I could do—it would be my final way of apologizing to Leo for all that I’d done. After this, I was done, debt paid.

I was a bundle of nerves as the first scenes began. It was strange seeing some actress version of me on a giant screen, but soon I was lost in the story, fascinated at how it all played out. The film was from the man’s perspective—in the movie, his name was Martin—and focused on