♪ twenty-six ♪

I didn't go straight to sleep, and instead raided the mini bar in my room. It wasn't like I'd be paying for the bill; that'd be on Leo and his team, and it was the least he could do after the turmoil he'd caused.

I still had no news from Cameron, and I wasn't intoxicated enough after two glasses of wine to go knock on his door and demand explanations. I'd envisioned myself doing so, but I also envisioned that it would end up with us having sex, and he didn't deserve that. Not now, and not for a while. He had much to make up for first.

So I nursed mini bottles of vodka, taking shots as I watched reruns of old TV shows. Eventually, my eyes grew too blurry and my head too heavy to stay awake, so I fell into a deep, tormented sleep. My dreams showed Cameron throwing a fit, Leo in a violent tantrum, and me crying in the middle of them, pressured into choosing one of them as my life partner. Which resulted in me running off and sobbing that I wouldn't choose either, and I'd rather be alone.

I woke up with tears in my eyes. No, I didn't want to be alone, I'd never wanted that. No matter all my failed relationships, in the long run, I wanted someone to share my life with, someone to be in love with. But I never anticipated ending up in this love triangle where I'd have to choose.

As I tidied up and took a shower, I continued to rehash everything that had happened. Cameron and I having sex. Leo purposely walking in to disrupt us, and regretting it. Cameron delivering a tantrum the likes of which I didn't think he was capable of. Leo owning up to his jealousy.

My head throbbed as I let the hot water dribble into my scalp, lathering my hair with smoothness. Was I crying? Screaming? I couldn't quite tell, but I knew tears were falling down my cheeks and mingling with the shower drops. I wasn't well, and I needed to get home, fast.

I was toweling off when my phone rang; Cameron's upbeat ringtone. Though I hesitated to answer, I knew I needed to, because I needed details for the rest of my day.

"Hello?" My voice croaked. I'd brushed my teeth twice to rid my mouth of the gross after-taste of too much liquor and was waiting for the hotel room coffee machine to brew. I'd considered ordering breakfast but had no idea how much longer I'd be using the room.

"Hey." Cameron's voice was tentative. "Did I wake you?"

It was nine a.m., and I rarely slept past eight. "No, I've been awake for a while."

He grunted. "Sorry, I thought you'd be sleeping in. Leo visited me last night after your dinner and we chatted for a long time, so I figured..."

It was ten o'clock when we got back. I'd stayed up until maybe midnight; I couldn't remember what time it had been when I finally passed out. "I went straight to bed. Exhausted from travel and all the," I cringed, "drama."

"Right." He cleared his throat. "Okay, well, you're free to go home now. There are some early reports of you and him being back on track. Some magazines are apologizing for the false statements about you being labeled as depressed and lonely without him."

"Good." I cleared my throat, too, nervous about talking with him. We'd said some things, most of his words nasty, and I wasn't sure how to clear the air. Or if I wanted to. "Are you calmed down now?"

"I'm...okay." I pictured him scrubbing his face and sipping on his morning brew. "Emma...I'm sorry. There's no excuse for what I said or how I treated you, and that's why I was quiet. I didn't think you'd want to hear it."

My own coffee was done brewing, so I fetched the plastic cup from the device and added powdered creamer and sugar. "Whether or not I wanted to hear it, you owed me an apology. Thank you for giving it, even though it was late."

"I just..." He sighed, and I imagined him slumping in his seat. What was he wearing? His pajamas? No; he'd be dressed already, preparing his busy day. Jeans and a t-shirt, dark circles under his dark eyes, a bit of scuff on his chin and over his lips—

No, stop it! You're mad at him!

"I'm sorry. I really am." He sounded so distant, I worried he was about to hang up without saying much else, without trying to defend himself. Which would be unlike him; Cameron had a strong personality and never held back his feelings. I'd gotten proof of that yesterday, when he confronted Leo and almost came to blows with him. "He explained himself."

My eyes widened. "Did he?" I bit my tongue, refraining from speaking my mind too fast.

Did Leo confess to Cameron that he cared for me? That he'd been working to fuck up our relationship in the weird hopes that I'd fall into his arms once I was single? No way. No way would Leo be so straightforward, not like that. It'd hurt Cameron, and he didn't want to hurt him.

"Yeah. He said he was day-wasted and thought he'd stumbled into a different PA's room. He does that to all of us, wandering in without approval, I mean." He took a sip of his drink. "And he said he was shocked at seeing me, then seeing me with someone, and it caught him off guard and he wasn't thinking straight. Well," he chortled, "it does sound like him, when you think about it."

I frowned. So Leo had lied; he hadn't told Cameron any of the truth, not even a hint. Or had Leo lied to me? He wasn't playing the game anymore, or so he'd said, but what if that wasn't true? What if he was playing, but he took a sick satisfaction in toying with my feelings? Or he was saying whatever he thought I wanted him to, to get me into bed? It wouldn't have been the first time I'd fallen for such bullshit.

"You let him day drink when he's on tour?" I swirled my coffee and sipped, grimacing at the cardboard taste.

He snorted. "You think I have a say in what he does and doesn't do? I'm only in charge of his work schedule; I don't organize his life."

"Except for when you yell at him and shake your fist in his face?" I chewed on the insides of my cheeks, unsure if it was right of me to bring this up. But I was curious; how could he get away with being so close to violence with his employer? With Leo Lee, lead singer of SMASH, rockstar of the world?

Cameron grew silent for a time, contemplating. "That was over-the-top for me, I hope you realize that. Not like me, at all. Leo can attest to that."

"Are you going to lose your job?" I got up and walked to the window, peering out at the view below; the parking lot. "Can he reprimand you for this?"

"I won't lose it." Noise came from the other end; it sounded like a TV show was playing in the background. Was he still in his room? Should I have ventured over there, knocked, gone inside to have this discussion face-to-face? "He did reprimand me last night. But I reprimanded him back. He had no right to put me in that spot, implying I'd cheat on you. Drunk or not."

I gulped. "I was afraid you were lying, for a second." My throat was dry, so I took another swig of the bad coffee. "It was a shock to the heart to hear him say that, and then I remembered the condoms..."

"I swear to you, Emmaline." He said my full name slowly, elongating each syllable, each letter. "I'm not that kind of guy, and that you would think that about me..."

"I don't." My legs were jittery. "But put yourself in my position. We were about to get started on round two, and the guy I'm fake dating blasts into the room and makes it sound like he does this a lot and you have sex in hotel rooms a lot, too. Can you blame me?" I sensed my heart thump-thumping in my chest, a blood vessel pumping at my temple. "I trust you, I do. But in this situation, I had doubts."

"Do you still have them now?" His voice shook. He was upset, but he'd earned that with his demeanor, and it would take many efforts for him to get back in my good graces. "Because you know damn well even if I was that kind of guy, I wouldn't have time for it. My schedule is hectic, and I thought we understood each other about that. Your schedule isn't as bad anymore, but you get it. Or you got it; I'm not sure if you still do."

"I do." I felt the conversation slipping out of my hands, turning on me. Cameron was flustered, and I was defending myself; wasn't it supposed to be the other way around? "But wait a minute, you can't be the one accusing me of something now, can you? Might I remind you that you were in the hot seat? You're the one who misbehaved and scared the shit out of me with your temper."

He became so quiet I wondered if he'd hung up on me. I was about to speak out, say his name, ask him if he was still there, but he breathed into the receiver. "I scared you?"

A line of cars were exiting the parking lot, and I watched them drive out onto the street, one by one. "Yes, you did. I've seen you lose your temper with others, but never towards Leo, not in his face. And never have you directed your rage at me."

Not that Leo hadn't deserved it; if Cameron had known the real reason Leo had barged in, he'd have punched him in the nose.

"I didn't mean to. I swear." He sniffled. "It won't happen again, because to tell you the truth, I scared myself, too. I heard myself saying stupid shit and it was too late to stop myself, you know? It kept spilling out, and by the time I realized what I'd done, you were out the door."

Our conversation was running in circles, and I didn't want to discuss yesterday any longer. "We'll get through it, and continue this another time. I'm moving past this, Cameron. I'm not forgiving you, but I'm going to pass it off as a bad day for all of us. So, moving on...you said I could leave?" I didn't want to be so abrupt, but I needed a real cup of coffee and something to eat, and couldn't plan any of that without knowing what the next steps were.

"Oh, right." He shuffled about. "The jet is at the airport, ready to go whenever you are. But you could linger for a few hours if you want; go shopping, get some food, sight-see."

It was tempting to wander around L.A. like a tourist, forgetting my troubles while I smothered myself with Leo's hard-earned cash. "I can go anywhere I want? Spend as much as I want?"

I rarely, if ever, felt comfortable spending money that wasn't really mine, but Leo had insisted I have a copy of his credit card and use it as needed. He wanted me to spoil myself from time to time, because if I used it in big brand stores, news would leak out that he was buying me expensive clothes and gifts. That would be great for his image.

"Absolutely. You have his credit card, right?" Cameron's voice perked up, peppering with amusement. "Go nuts. I know I'm in the doghouse, but I assume he is too, yeah? So go spend his money."

I rubbed my hands together. "I won't stay long or do much, but I'd definitely enjoy exploring this place on his dime."

Cameron apologized for not being available to be my tour guide—he'd been to L.A. often and had family here, so was well acquainted with the area. But he was swamped with schedule changes, organization, preparing for tonight's show, and other random tasks, so he had to bail on me. I forgave him for that; if anything, I thought it best for us to have some distance between us while I was cooling down from his outburst, and trying to figure out what I wanted.

So as I strolled down one of the fanciest, busiest L.A. avenues, a coffee in one hand, a sandwich in the other, and a very exhausted driver behind me carrying all my bags, I smiled. I showed my best side for the cameras, as the paparazzi followed my progress, asked me about what I was buying, what my favorite brands were. There was no need to answer, because they'd deform my reply, anyway, so I kept moving, kept shopping, kept adding to my inventory.

By the time I boarded the jet, it was five in the afternoon, and I was exhausted. I had a dozen bags of clothes and shoes and accessories, and guilt grew in my gut at all the money I'd spent—money that wasn't mine. It wasn't like me to revenge-shop, but I had to admit it had settled some of the discomfort in my mind.

Yet...I thought of it all, still. The jet took off, and I slurped on some champagne, once more remembering everything that had happened. Leo wanted to break Cameron and I up, and he'd come quite close to it. Was I offended? Hurt? Or...flattered? Or all three? Did I want Leo only because right now, I couldn't have him? Or did I truly want to be his, for real?

The answers wouldn't come to me as I lounged on a jet, sipping on pricey champagne, eyeing my bags of goods and wondering if I'd ever wear half the things I'd bought. The answers would come after some time away from both men, isolation in my studio, and dulling of my senses by watching silly reality TV while chomping down on unhealthy snacks.

I did just that as I got home, but not before taking a big whiff of the late, nighttime New York City air. That fresh pollution and fried food stench, the poppy country music coming from my upstairs neighbor's apartment, the mugginess in my building's hallway as I climbed the endless stairs.

L.A. was fun and nice and all, but I would always be an NYC girl at heart.

Once in my pajamas, some of my bags unpacked, I checked my phone, expecting to see messages—but I wasn't positive whose name I wanted to see there. Cameron, with more apologies? Leo, with more events for me to show up at with him, on his arm, while pretending we didn't have feelings for one another?

"No," I said to myself, as I flipped on the TV. "Neither of them. For now, I'd rather be lonely to figure my shit out." I stuffed a chip into my mouth, smacked my lips, and focused on the people on the screen.

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