The Other Side of Us - By Sarah Mayberry Page 0,23

even a phone call or two. But the friends-with-benefits arrangement they’d slipped into in the months before her accident had led her to believe that there was still a degree of affection between them.

Yet another misconception to add to the many misconceptions in their shared history.

“I’m good. How about you?” he asked in the mellow, lovely voice that made women across the nation swoon.

Her ex, the matinee idol.

“I’m well, thanks.”

“That’s really great to hear. Really great. Gordon’s been keeping me up-to-date with your progress.”

“Has he? That’s nice of him.”

Her words hung in the small silence that followed. She could hear the click of a lighter on the other end of the line and guessed he’d started smoking again.

“Okay, fair call,” he said. “I’ve been an asshole. I should have called and I didn’t. I should have sent flowers and I didn’t. I should have done a bunch of things, but it doesn’t mean I haven’t been thinking about you. It doesn’t mean I don’t care, Mac.”

Mackenzie stared at the toes of her shoes. There were so many things she could say to him. She could take him to task for being lazy and neglectful. She could tell him that he’d hurt her, that while she hadn’t expected undying devotion, she’d assumed he at least liked her enough to want to check for himself that she was doing okay. After all, that had been the raison d’être of the highly inappropriate affair they’d been indulging in before her accident—that, despite everything, they still liked and enjoyed each other.

There was no point, though. Their marriage was over, and whatever friendship remained was not worth stressing herself over. She only had so much energy to invest at the moment, and Patrick was a bad bet. Too much work for too little return.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to read you the riot act. You’re officially off the hook.”

“Don’t be like that, Mac.”

She pictured his face, the sheepish, naughty-boy hangdog expression he’d be wearing. Patrick was accustomed to skating by on the power of his charisma. Fortunately, she’d become immune to his powers during the first year of their short marriage.

“I’ve got someone coming for dinner any second now. Did you want something or was this just a social call?”

“It’s about work.”

So not a topic she wanted to discuss with Patrick. Anything he had to say was probably the result of gossip and innuendo. She would do better keeping her contact to the show—and her job—limited to conversations with Gordon. So did she really want to hear whatever it was Patrick had to say? “What about work?” Apparently she did.

“You’re not going to like this, but as soon as I heard I knew you’d want to know. Gordon came out to the studio today to talk to Phil. It’s not official yet, but the word is that Phil’s signed on for another two years.”

Mackenzie closed her eyes.

She’d lost her job. All those years she’d put in, slaving away like a good little worker ant. All the unpaid overtime, the days she’d worked when she’d been dead on her feet with a cold or the flu, the many, many times she’d gone beyond the call of duty to get the job done...

All for nothing.

Her loyalty, her passion, her dedication, none of it had mattered when push had come to shove. She’d been replaced.

“Mac? Are you still there?”

“Yes.”

Barely.

“I didn’t want to be the bearer of bad tidings, but I figured you’d rather hear it from me than through the grapevine. For what it’s worth, everyone thinks it’s a shitty move.”

Everyone being the other members of the cast, she assumed. Which also meant the whole world knew and there was absolutely no way for her to salvage an ounce of pride out of this situation.

“You’ll get something else. The moment you’re back on the market you’ll be snapped up. Everyone knows how good you are,” Patrick said.

It was nice of him to try to bolster her, but they both knew she’d struggle to find a position at the same level. The opportunity to produce a successful show didn’t come up every day in the Australian television industry—and even if something did come up, her accident and extended convalescence were well-known in this tight-knit world. No one would want to take her on until she’d proved she wasn’t a liability or a spent force. She’d have to start the climb all over again....

Despair gripped her. She could live with the fact that she might never regain full range of