“What ultimatum?” I hate that I ask the question before I’ve had time to engage my brain.
“He told them he won’t do promotion for the final movie with Saffron. That they have to be split up, in different countries, or he’s not promoting it at all.”
“I’m glad to see he’s finally growing a pair, but it’s too late for us.”
“He’s talking about coming to see you,” she adds. “He’s due to resume filming Sweet Retribution in a few days, so it won’t be anytime soon. But he has a week off, in the middle of June, before he starts filming that superhero movie over the summer. I think he’ll turn up then.”
Reeve has been continuously auditioning for other parts, and he’s in high demand off the back of his Rydeville Elite success, but I don’t know what other jobs he has booked. That Australian movie he made last summer is due to release in early August, and it’s just another milestone I won’t be around to share. Mad as I am, I’m still proud of him and glad his career is taking off in the way he’d always dreamed of.
“Thanks for the heads-up. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Send him a message that tells him loud and clear to leave me alone.”
After we’ve eaten, I ponder what to do about the Reeve situation. I know, for a fact, without checking, he’s been blowing up my US cell. Thank fuck, Moira hadn’t passed my Irish cell phone number on. I discovered Mom’s assistant was the one who gave Reeve my Irish address before she knew we’d split. Mom explained in time to stop her divulging my new cell, and I’ve made it very clear to Audrey, on several occasions, that she’s not to share my Irish number with Alex or Reeve.
But I know my ex inside and out. I know he’s been trying to reach me, and I need to respond because he cannot come here. I refuse to allow it. I won’t let him blow my cover and damage my new relationship. I’m happy, and Reeve showing up would ruin everything.
“Penny for them,” Dillon says, rolling over and propping up on his elbows. He’s lying on his stomach staring inquisitively at me.
“I need to deal with Reeve. I’m just trying to figure out how.”
He purses his lips. “How about you give him a taste of his own medicine?” he suggests with a gleeful glint in his eye.
“What are you thinking?”
“Send him a pic of us together in bed, and I’m sure he’ll get the message.”
He waits patiently while I consider it. I know it would get my point across, and I know it would hurt him. A part of me wants him to know what it feels like. But is this stooping to his level? Shouldn’t I rise above that?
“He deserves to know, and it’s not like you’d be blasting our photo all over social media for the world to see,” Dillon quietly says, as if he’s reading my mind. Briefly, I contemplate doing just that, but I discard the idea as fast. I went off social media for a reason, and I’m not falling down that rabbit hole again. I also don’t want to drag Dillon into my shit, even if the exposure might be good for Toxic Gods. Dillon has his own little following here already, and if I start sharing pics of us online, I risk the wrath of more groupies. I haven’t forgotten how viciously I was attacked by Reeveron fans, and I still, occasionally, have nightmares about the assault.
But the most important reason why I can’t go on social media is I don’t want to expose my location. Someone would figure it out, and my safe haven would be gone. No revenge is worth that sacrifice.
“You’re right,” I tell Dillon. “Sending it privately is more respectful than how I found out about him and that whore.” I switch on my US cell, and it pings successively with a ton of notifications. Dillon leans over my shoulder, tucking his arm around my waist. “Holy shit. You have hundreds of notifications from him.”
“I haven’t switched it on since I arrived here. Knowing him like I do, he’s been messaging me daily, and he was obviously frantic to get ahold of me once the pic leaked,” I add, scrolling through the long list of calls and messages from the last two days.
“He’s certainly persistent.” Dillon watches as I group delete everything. “I don’t understand it. Why is he trying so desperately to win you back if he’s fucking his costar?”
His words sting a little, but I try not to let it show because I understand the point he’s making. “I have no idea what game he’s playing, but I’m done playing it with him.”