She rubbed her forehead hard enough to hurt. “Alex. If Ron or R.J. found out you were publicly criticizing the show, even under a pseudonym and through a fictional story, they’d probably have grounds for legal retaliation. And what would other directors and producers think? Would they still want to hire you if they knew you’d insulted your own production?”
His career. He was jeopardizing his entire career for the sake of a story about pegging, and she didn’t understand. Maybe she would after she read the entire thing, but not now.
“Look, I’d rather you not report me to Ron, but do what you have to do. You’re an honest person, and I don’t want to put you in an uncomfortable position.” He swiveled to face her. “I’m going to post the story, though, no matter what, so don’t bother arguing with me about that. I need to do this, and I will.”
This day was always going to come. She’d known it from the beginning.
Her duty had finally collided with her personal loyalty to Alex.
She tried to clear her head. What is the right thing to do?
With him so close, storm cloud eyes intent on her, she couldn’t corral her thoughts, and she didn’t have any idea how a good, honorable person would choose to act in this situation.
“I need to think,” she finally told him.
Then she turned on her heel and fled the mini-castle as if the evil undead from Tartarus were chasing her.
LATE THAT NIGHT, she checked AO3 and found his story.
She read it and tried not to wonder which of his exes might have inspired the character of Robin. Then she went back and rewatched scenes from the last several seasons of Gods of the Gates. Specifically, the scenes involving Cupid, Venus, and Jupiter.
She bookmarked CupidUnleashed’s account on her laptop.
She sent Alex a pissy, one-sentence email: I hope Cupid’s partner uses less lube next time.
She went to bed, sincerely hoping the next day would be easier.
What she didn’t do: write Ron or R.J.
Texts with Marcus: Saturday Night
Alex: Found out tonight that various men have called Lauren a bitch or a shrew
Alex: If I knew who they were, I swear to God, Marcus
Marcus: You’d … what? Join them? You call her a shrew all the time. Also a harpy.
Marcus: Also a killjoy.
Marcus: Also your dour jailer.
Marcus: Also a harridan.
Marcus: Also a spoilsport, wet blanket, sourpuss, nemesis of joy, enemy of lightheartedness
Marcus: “Maria from The Sound of Music only terrible and incomprehensibly short and without apparent musical inclinations”
Marcus: “if Jane Eyre had been like Nanny Clegg, Rochester would have thrown her into a river instead of pursuing a bigamous marriage with her whilst keeping his poor wife locked in an attic—never mind, I don’t think I want to be Rochester in this scenario”
Marcus: “if this were Les Misérables, I’m totally Valjean, and she’s definitely Javert”
Marcus: “I’ve never related so intensely to Harrison Ford in The Fugitive”
Marcus: “she’s essentially the Terminator, pitiless and unstoppable, and I’m Sarah Connor”
Marcus: “someday, epic poems will be written about my sufferings under her despotic rule”
Alex: Well, I don’t mean ALL the things I say, you know that
Alex: Besides, she thinks my bon mots are funny
Alex: I can tell, her mouth twitches like a millimeter
Alex: Although that could be a nervous tic she’s developed because of me, come to think of it
Alex: Hmmm
Alex: Never mind, it’s definitely a smile, I’ve decided for certain
Alex: And I’ve never called her a bitch, that’d be rude
Marcus: [sarcastic clapping]
Alex: Traitor
Alex: Go on, leave me to suffer while you indulge in yet another sloppy display of public affection with your April
Marcus: Don’t mind if I do
Alex: Marcus?
Alex: MARCUS!!!
Alex: Some best friend you are
Alex: If I’m Julius Caesar, you’re 1000% Brutus, dude
12
ALEX’S NORMAL SLEEPING PROBLEMS TOOK TWO WEEKS TO find him in L.A.
His best guess: He was so exhausted when he arrived, even his stubborn brain had to give up and let him sleep soundly for six or seven hours at a time.
But then, after two weeks, he began waking up at all hours of the night again, his mind racing. Or he’d take forever to fall asleep in the first place, staring at the ceiling as his damn thoughts refused to stop churning. It was torture. Especially since he couldn’t handle it the same way he’d done for years now, not without either disturbing Lauren or breaking a promise to her.