My mouth dropped open because I couldn’t believe Cameron was dismissing what we’d shared so easily. Had I been naïve to think we were heading toward something real? The tears started flowing down my cheeks the minute he disappeared down the path.

  I sat down on a nearby bench and allowed myself to cry all the expensive makeup off my face. I couldn’t not cry, not when the detached way Cameron ended it meant he’d never been invested in whatever we’d been doing together. He’d been so calm as he rejected me, like I was an underperforming employee he was terminating.

  But it didn’t make sense. He’d been so real with me, so raw, and passionate, and devoted. Was it all an act? He’d convinced me that he cared for me. Neither one of us had used the word “love”…but in my heart of hearts, I’d really thought we were headed that way.

  How could I be so wrong? Again? I banished any thoughts of Steven before they could make me feel even worse.

  Lucy’s team was waiting for me since I’d given them my purse and phone to hold during the interview. I wiped the tears from my cheeks and hoped I could pass for someone who didn’t give a shit about the humiliation that had just happened in front of millions of viewers.

  As I walked through the park, I kept my eyes downcast, forcing my face into a neutral expression. I wondered how long I’d feel like I was being watched. When I did manage to glance up, no one seemed to notice me, which was surprising and comforting at the same time.

  Lucy saw me walking toward where we’d set up for the interview and gave me a sad smile and wave. She met me halfway and squeezed my hand gently.

  “Hey, I was worried about you. Are you okay?” she asked with concern.

  I shrugged. “You tell me. What’s the internet saying about the world’s most humiliating rejection?”

  Her mouth turned down briefly. “Ah, well, let’s just say the comments so far aren’t great. But no one is saying anything about you—all the anger is directed toward Cameron.” Lucy widened her eyes. “Obviously, since he turned the moment into a little tantrum. People are confused by what happened, but we can use that to our advantage, I think. Or at least I hope so.”

  “Did you rewatch the footage?” I asked with a pit in my stomach. “Was I visible?”

  I had been so caught up in Cameron’s freak-out that I hadn’t put on my game face, and there was a chance I was in the video hovering behind him like a teary-eyed loser.

  “I rewatched it,” Lucy answered with a nod. “You’re sort of in the background, but the focus of the video is definitely Cameron.”

  “Let me see it.” I held out my hand.

  “Felicity…I don’t know if that’s a good idea. Give yourself time to get some distance from it.”

  I gestured in front of her with a frown, and she tapped the screen, then reluctantly put her sparkly phone in my palm.

  The video started off with Lucy chatting to her followers, answering questions about CamLicity as the text popped up on the screen. I glanced at the viewer count and was astounded that even a quick throwaway live was enough to get thousands of eyeballs within seconds. Lucy was good at her job, and that fact was about to bite me in the ass.

  She was chatting about which pieces she had on that day, and dozens of people said they were off to the Veritique website to buy the same necklace and bracelet for themselves. Viewers asked about my skirt, my shoes, and who did my hair. It was like every bit of what was happening on screen was for sale.

  Which I guess it was.

  Then, it started to unravel. It was like watching a car accident unfold. My heart rate ratcheted up like I was waiting for a jump-scare even though I knew exactly what was about to happen.

  Lucy looked off at something in the distance and made a little excited eep! noise, and the camera swung around to frame Cameron and me down the lane.

  My stomach clenched. The on-screen implosion started with our kiss.

  I felt tears welling, because damn it, we looked so real in that moment. I couldn’t help remembering how real it had felt, too.

  “Aw,” Lucy said. “Look at those two stealing some alone time! They can’t keep their hands off each other, you guys. I swear, Cameron always finds excuses to touch Felicity. It’s giving ‘addiction’ y’all! How cute are they? Let’s see those hearts!”

  I watched as the stars and heart-eye emojis from her followers flooded the screen.

  “Is it weird that I’m totally spying on them right now?” she asked her followers in a conspiratorial whisper. “I guess we all are! I love those two so much, and I know all of you do too. Best love story evah! CamLicity in the wild, my babies!”

  I let out a humorless snort.

  “Give me the phone,” Lucy said in a flat voice that sounded nothing like her on-screen persona. “It only gets worse from this point on. You don’t need to go through that again. Once is enough.”

  I shook my head. “Absolutely not. I’m part of this story. I need to see how the world is reacting. Don’t forget, it’s my job.”

  Which Cameron had just made abundantly clear to me.

  I glanced at the comments as the footage of us chatting played on. People couldn’t get enough of us. The comments were almost universally positive, which was unheard of because internet trolls were real. My stomach twisted into a knot when I reached out to touch his arm. I knew what was coming next.

  Then, Cameron dropped to his knee and Lucy started shrieking. “You guys! Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, it’s happening!”

  The footage went shaky when Lucy ran closer to us. As Cameron started his little tantrum, I realized Lucy was right. I didn’t want to hear it again. I glanced at the comments before handing her phone back and wasn’t surprised to see vomit emojis and lots of “WTAF?”s

  I’d barely even looked to see if I was in the frame as Cameron went off, and most likely, no one else had been looking at me, either. Why watch me when Cameron was the one putting on the show?

  “Wow. Okay.” I inhaled a shaky breath and pushed down all thoughts of the way Cameron had crushed my heart, both publicly and privately. “We’ve got our work cut out for us if we want to recover from that.”

  I was impressed with myself for focusing on my job considering how shattered I was.

  “Hey, hey. Don’t worry about how we’re going to spin the story yet. Sandrine and I can brainstorm some ideas. For now, just focus on you.”

  Lucy studied me for a moment, then pulled me into her arms. The tears started flowing the minute my head hit her shoulder.

  “It’s okay, we’ll figure it out,” she cooed as she rubbed my back. “No one will be the wiser.”

  Then it hit me. Lucy didn’t know what Cameron had said to me once we were alone. She thought I was reacting to his livestream tantrum, not the fact that he’d ripped my heart from my chest, thrown it on the ground, and crushed it beneath one of his Italian leather shoes.

  I was so lost, I didn’t even know if I should tell her the entire truth of what had happened between us. Or what I thought had happened. Given how quick Cameron had brushed it off, maybe it really had been nothing more than sex. Everything that had felt sweet and real and meaningful…all of that had been fakery for the cameras, apparently.

  CamLicity had been a job, nothing more. For that matter, it was still my job. I needed to keep my focus on that, otherwise I feared I’d go curl up in my bed and refuse to get up for a few weeks.

  Lucy pulled away and gave me a little smile. “Don’t worry, public support is on your side. You’ll come out of this just fine. Who knows, you might end up with a couple of brand deals!”

  I forced myself to fake a smile because I didn’t want to make Lucy feel bad. But I didn’t want public support, or brand deals.

  It killed me that despite everything he’d just put me through, I still wanted Cameron.

  21

  CAMERON

  I’d said I was going back to the office, but as I stalked back to my car, I realized it was the last place I wanted to be. I didn’t want to deal with my employees pretending they hadn’t just watched me freak the fuck out in front of the world.

  I tried to tell myself it was just a blip that would pass, but I’d seen our numbers. People were fascinated with CamLicity, and this scandal would be even juicier to fixate on.

  Jimmy held the car door open for me. Did he watch the debacle unfold online? No, the man was in his early sixties. He probably only used his phone for calls and solitaire.

  I needed to think fast. Where could I go to forget about the world for a little bit?

  “Take me to Tyler’s place, please,” I said to Jimmy as he slid into the driver’s seat.

  I leaned my head back and closed my eyes on the drive across town, trying not to think about what had just happened. No, what I’d just done. I needed to take ownership of my tirade. Had I been justifiably angry? Sure. But did my reaction go too far? Well, yeah.

  The Veritique alerts on my phone were nonstop, but I wasn’t about to check them. A reflexive part of me thought about Felicity every time the chimes sounded, because I’d made a Pavlovian connection between the alerts and the woman who caused them to go off.

  I was damn sure Felicity wanted nothing to do with me at the moment. Or perhaps ever. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her shocked face. Her disbelief as I explained that what had happened between us was over. I’d been so caught up in my anger that I hadn’t exactly been gentle as I’d ended things with her. But still, she had to understand, and agree, that our relationship had gotten out of hand. Better to end it now, before someone really got hurt.

  For some reason, I needed to keep reminding myself of that fact.

  Jimmy eased up to the curb by Tyler’s place, and I hopped out before he had a chance to open the door for me. I climbed the narrow staircase to his apartment hoping he’d be awake enough to have a conversation with me. I knocked on the door wondering what version of my friend was going to greet me.

  The door cracked and someone peered out. “Yeah?”

  “Who are you?” I demanded.

  “Who are you?” he asked defensively. He checked me out from head to toe. “You a lawyer or something?”

  “Tyler,” I called out in a loud voice. “What’s going on?”

  He appeared behind the guy and flung the door open. “Bro, come in! What is up?”

  The stranger in question was none other than Tyler’s buddy from his gig at Frankie’s Tavern. Jerry. Seeing him was exactly what I didn’t need. Especially with his pupils blown like that, showing he was definitely on something. Maybe a couple different somethings.

  Fuck. I wasn’t in the mood to negotiate whatever was going on with the two of them. I desperately hoped it was nothing more than an acoustic jam session, but that didn’t seem likely.

  “Hi Ty, I guess I should ask you the same question,” I said as I moved past Jerry and into the main room. “I didn’t realize you had company.”

  “He’s always up for a good time, and so am I,” Jerry said as he followed closely behind me, as if his wiry frame could intimidate me. “I remember you now. We met after Ty’s gig. You were sorta uptight that night.” He laughed.

  The main room was messier than usual, with a few empty pizza boxes on the counter along with a mound of wrappers and unopened mail and a variety of bottles and cups on the coffee table. Most of them were beer bottles, which explained why the apartment smelled like a frat party.

  “So what’s going on?” I asked, perching on a bar stool next to the kitchen counter.

  Jerry suddenly looked uncomfortable.

  “We’re just chilling,” Tyler said. “S’all good. I took care of Boris today, so don’t worry about that.”

  He was slurring and having a hard time remaining upright. I frowned at him, but he locked onto Jerry.

  “Yeah, hey, can I get you a drink, man?” Jerry offered. “You look like a vodka guy, and we just happen to have some⁠—”

  “We?” I demanded. “Ty, are you guys roommates now?”

  “No, no,” he stammered, looking guilty. “We’ve just been hanging out more lately. I should, uh, I should clean up since you’re here.”

  Tyler tripped over to the counter and started collecting the trash, but nervously, like I was there to conduct a home health assessment. I focused on what he was doing and saw him sweep a small plastic baggie with a trace of powder left in it and a cut-off straw beneath a candy wrapper and then throw it in the trash. My heart sank.

  There was no question, Tyler was using again.

  “Hey, lemme help,” Jerry said.

  He picked up a single dirty napkin from the counter and threw it in the trash, then bent over to rifle through the can.

  “Oh, my bad, I wrote a phone number on that napkin, gotta grab it,” he said, going deeper into the garbage can. I watched him palm the plastic baggie and slip it in his pocket.

  Everything swam into focus. Yeah, Tyler was using again, and Jerry was his connection. It was the absolute last thing I needed to have to deal with on an already shitty day.

  “What’d you just put in your pocket?” I asked Jerry, working hard to keep my voice even.

  “Huh?” His eyes darted between me and Tyler. “I told you, a napkin, buddy. Phone number. A pretty lady I met last night.” He smiled and revealed a missing lower tooth.

  “Can I see it?”

  “Why?” Jerry backed a few steps away from me.

  I stood up and walked closer to him, forcing him into the corner.

  “Empty your pockets,” I said.

  I glanced down and saw that the corner of the baggie was sticking out of his pocket. I snagged it and held it up in front of his face. I looked over at Tyler to find him staring at the floor.

  “What is this?”

  “Trash, I dunno,” Jerry squeaked out. “I have no idea how it got in there!”

  “You’re a piece of shit, you know that?” I growled at him. “Get the fuck out of here. And if I see you anywhere near Tyler again, you’re going to regret it.”

  “What are you talking about?” Jerry whined. He looked over at Tyler with desperate eyes. “Ty, c’mon.”

  Tyler shrugged and stepped out of the room without looking at either of us.

  “Out!” I screamed in Jerry’s face.

  “For fuck’s sake, okay,” he whined, hunching away from me. “You’re not Tyler’s babysitter, you know? He can do what he wants.”

  “I might not be his babysitter, but I am his friend. Unlike you.”

  The door slammed behind him. I went in search of Tyler, finding him perched on the edge of his couch, like he was ready to jump up and run out of the room if I pushed him too hard.

  I was furious, but also gutted because I’d wanted so badly to believe Tyler was past all of this. But apparently, getting caught up in Felicity wasn’t the only way I’d been fooling myself.

  “Why?” It was all I could muster up, because if I said anything else I might regret it.

  “It’s stupid.” Tyler dropped his head into his hands. “He’s my last connection to her.”

  I sighed when I figured out what he meant. “You’re hanging around that loser because he reminds you of being with Roxanne?”

  “Yeah,” Tyler yelled back at me, his body going tense. “I am! All I have left of that time is memories, and being with Jerry brings it back. We can laugh about the good times, how much fun we had. For a little while I can forget about what a pile of shit my life is now. No career, no Roxanne…yeah, I need help to feel good these days, and Jerry makes that happen for me.”

  “Jerry’s drugs make that happen,” I corrected angrily.

  “And?”

  My jaw clenched as we stared at each other.

  “Just leave,” Tyler said in a defeated voice as he sank back against the couch. “I know you’re disgusted with me, so get out of here. I’m not in the mood for one of your lectures.”

  I shook my head angrily. “Fuck that. I’m staying to clean up, and to force you to take a break. You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

  “Whatever.”

  I got up and started cleaning the trash from around the place, keeping an eye on Tyler. He seemed exhausted, and I watched the tension slowly leave his body. Before long, he’d collapsed on his side, fast asleep.

  It didn’t matter that I was wearing a five-thousand-dollar suit. I took off my blazer, rolled up my sleeves, and got down on my hands and knees to clean up the grime from his floor. I stacked up his mail, scrubbed down his counters, and tossed out the spoiled food in his refrigerator. It felt like therapy for me because staying busy kept me from thinking about the state of my own life. I had a job to do with an identifiable endpoint: when Tyler’s trashed apartment started to look presentable again. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had to clean anything, and I was surprised to discover the hands-on work felt good. I could only hope that when he woke up maybe he’d see his tidy place and decide his world could use an overhaul as well.

  After about an hour, I admitted to myself that I was procrastinating. The place looked better than it had in ages, Tyler was sleeping off his high, and there was nothing more I could do for him in the moment. I set up a food delivery of chicken soup and crusty bread from Jean-Georges for a few hours later and left, reluctantly.

  On the way back to my place, I stupidly checked the Veritique alerts and felt my blood pressure rise. Just when things were on a good track, I had to go and blow up. It was going to take a while before things evened out again.

  I assumed we’d take care of the PR crisis somehow, but the Felicity aspect? There was no coming back from that. The way she looked at me as I ended things nearly made me change my mind. But of course I didn’t, because there was no way we could’ve made our relationship work out long term. Between my history and Tyler’s, I had more than enough proof that relationships were doomed to end in disaster.

  I stalked into my building with frustration and anger swirling inside of me once again. I wouldn’t admit to the other sensation, deep in my gut.

  I didn’t do sadness.