Better than the Book (Charitable Endeavors #4) - M.E. Carter Page 0,58
single-shoulder black Prada dress that only comes mid-thigh. His arm is wrapped around her waist as they smile for the camera. Gone is the lumberjack look and in its place is the version of Hunter Stone the world is used to. Hair perfectly styled, bright green eyes, and a perfectly tailored suit, he screams movie star.
Logically, I know they’re probably just friends. I mean, he called me yesterday, and told me about the event. Knowing about it doesn’t lessen the sting of seeing him with her. It just drives home how vastly different our lives are. Something that leaves me feeling sad and disappointed.
It’s probably better we never defined our relationship. Or friendship. Whatever it was. It never would have worked out between us in the end. If it stings this much after only having him for a few days before he left, I don’t want to imagine what having my heart broken by Hunter Stone would have felt like.
Chapter Twenty-One
Hunter
Normally I’m not a fan of running on a treadmill. I hate feeling like a hamster on a wheel, never getting anywhere. I prefer getting my cardio outdoors in the fresh air. I would have done just that this morning watching the sunrise while I managed to get in a solid five miles. But I overslept after too many restless nights and very little sleep.
Thankfully, my condominium complex has a state-of-the-art gym, and at this time of the day most of the residents are off at their high-powered jobs and not using the gym. At least I’m by myself and don’t have to ward off anyone trying to make small talk. The music in my earbuds should distract me from my thoughts; I should lose myself in the beat as my feet hit the rubber belt. I don’t. My thoughts are on the number of days since Celeste and I have spoken. Something feels off with her. With us.
I know better than anyone how busy she is with the play. Her job is not only time-consuming but can be emotionally draining. My obligations have kept me busy too. Adding in the time difference and we have hardly spoken on the phone more than a handful of times since I returned to L.A.
As late night turned to early morning, I thought about staying up a few more hours and calling her. Catching her before she could get to rehearsal. Instead, I must have fallen asleep because when I woke my phone was in my hands and covered in drool.
Glancing at the clock on the wall, I realize I’ve been at this longer than planned and start decreasing my speed to cool down. Lifting my water bottle to my mouth, I take a long pull as the treadmill ticks down before coming to a stop. Disconnecting my earbuds from my phone, I gather my things and place them on the counter before cleaning the machine and exiting the gym.
Today I’m meeting Matthew for lunch since he’s in town for a seminar. I still have trouble reconciling that the guy I met on a photo shoot is a financial advisor by day. Actually, I never gave much thought that there was a day job. I really do live in some sort of Hollywood bubble.
Entering my condo, I toss my things on the breakfast bar and move to the master bathroom for a shower. Completely on auto pilot, I go through the motions before I towel off and wipe the mirror of steam. With two days off from shooting, I’ve allowed myself to not shave. It isn’t quite the lumberjack look I have going but I’m still pretty scruffy.
Pushing off the counter, I quickly add a little styling cream to my freshly trimmed hair and brush my teeth before slipping into a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt. I may look casual, but the price of these jeans is more than I used to make in a month at my first job. It’s ridiculous how expensive the simplest things can be and how easily I slid into spending the money without a second thought. Is that what it means about how Hollywood changes a person? Spending a few days in Celeste’s shoebox apartment reminded me of how far I’ve come. I only hope I haven’t lost myself in the process.
When I return to the kitchen, my phone vibrates on the counter.