He huffs a laugh. “You don’t think I have any experience with relationships, cheeky girl?”
A snort from Banks. “With your mirror, maybe.”
Banks and I fist bump without looking at each other. It’s just…automatic.
So much that we shoot each other a startled glance.
That simple, odd connection I share with Banks visibly annoys Tobias. It appears to push him into what he says next. “I attempted to have romantic relationships at the start of my career.” He picks up his drink and salutes us. “I’m sure you can imagine what the arguments were about.”
I’m so busy trying to picture Tobias as a boyfriend that I forget to thank the bartender when he sets down my drink and walks away to fill the next order.
“They were smart women to walk away,” Tobias continues. “I could have learned a thing or two from them about the stupidity of blind trust. The kind I had for my manager.”
“What happened with your manager?” I ask, sliding my purple martini toward me, using the tip of my index finger to spin clockwise the flower sitting on the surface.
Tobias shakes his head. “I hate talking about it, mainly because it’s such a fucking cliché. The lack of creativity is completely beneath me.”
“We’ve been warned,” Banks says, exhaling. “Still want the story.”
“Me too,” I’m not sure why I reach over and run a knuckle down the back of Tobias’s hand, but he closes his eyes on contact, as if to savor the feeling. “Very well.” His voice is slightly uneven and he takes a moment to rein it in. “I trusted my manager completely. So much so that I didn’t read the fine print of the paperwork he had me sign. Essentially, I signed over the rights to dozens of hours of recorded…work to him. No compensation for me. Just giving up these really vulnerable moments for free.” He chuckles, but the merriment doesn’t reach his eyes. “Ripped off by a business manager. See? A tale as old as time.”
That bomb drops, explodes and all we can do is let the cloud of smoke billow up.
“Sorry, how is that cliché?” Banks asks, turning fully to face us.
“Yeah, that’s my question, too. Were you…friends?”
“Best friends,” Tobias clips. “Or I thought we were. He never took me seriously for a minute.” Seconds tick by. “I wasn’t able to perform on camera after that. Filming scenes had never felt dirty before, but it did after that. I was used. Played.” He shrugs. “I bought a one-way ticket to a place I could disappear and I’ve been in New York ever since.”
I’ve never been short of breath while standing still.
I’m…angry, I realize. On Tobias’s behalf—which is so shocking, I should look out the window and see if pigs are flying. I’m also pretty peeved at myself for goading Tobias into telling me such a painful story. For being so dismissive of him when there are clearly undiscovered worlds behind the gorgeous fa?ade. “I’m sorry that happened to you, Tobias,” I whisper, leaning over and kissing him on the cheek. “You get the night off from dick punches.”
“Kind of you,” he releases on a pent-up breath. For a moment, we can’t seem to stop looking at each other, but he’s obviously still raw from telling his story, because for once, he diverts attention from himself. “What about you, Banks?” He presses a hand to his cheek briefly, where I kissed him, and all I can do is stare. “Any tales of betrayal and woe stuffed in your closet?”
“No one reaches this age without experiencing a little betrayal.” Banks clears his throat, straightens. “None of them were quite as dramatic, though.”
Back to his irreverent self, Tobias drums his fingers on the bar. “Were they rugby betrayals, perhaps? He didn’t pass me the ball enough or he stole my clothes from the locker room and left me naked. That sort of thing?” Tobias shivers. “Scintillating.”
Loud voices reach me from the area surrounding the dance floor. Gabe. The ruckus is coming from the group in conversation with Gabe. The men he was laughing with only moments ago now appear to be having a laugh at his expense and it’s easy to see why. Gabe’s brother and his fiancé are right behind him on the dancefloor. So close he could reach out and touch them. They appear to be oblivious to how close they are to Gabe—but Gabe’s co-workers are not. They are cracking up, shoving him in the shoulder, pretending to spank an invisible ass, because men never fully mature, I guess.