Camden

Despite the fact that the screening at the Toronto Film Festival had gone off without a hitch that evening, my bad mood persisted through to the after-party. I had done my job, though. I had allowed Kate to trot me out onto the stage for the Q&A after the film and smiled until my jaws ached, even managing to charm the pants off the audience, as was my duty. Matt and I joked with one another on stage, just enough to show off our camaraderie, and of course praised our beautiful ingénue for putting up with our antics. It was all just as the studio had scripted and had the effect of endearing us all to the appreciative crowd. We were rewarded after the screening with an ecstatic standing ovation, which served to put everyone in a collective great mood for the after-party—everyone that is, except me.

In the VIP area at the after-party, I schmoozed with studio execs and took selfies with fans, all the while watching Kate out of the corner of my eye as she sat on a nearby sofa, stewing. After considering my options for nearly an hour, I finally decided to chance it and sat down in the chair opposite Kate and was immediately met with wary eyes and a distinctly unamused expression. I hadn’t fully thought through what I wanted to say, which didn’t seem to matter since my planned attempt at smoothing things over was immediately thwarted by James, who joined us in the seating area.

“We should bail, dude,” he said with disinterest as he continued to text on his mobile. The women in here are frigid as hell and it’s starting to smell like room temperature sushi. Not cool.” Kate stared at James in disgust and gave me the “is this guy seriously your friend?” look. I was starting to wonder that very same thing.

“My buddy has a table for us over at Uniun. I told him we’d be drinking Cristal within the hour. You down?”

As if reading my thoughts, Kate chimed in with, “Wow. Cristal. That sounds awfully nice, James. You buying?”

“Hell no,” he exclaimed as though Kate was the most moronic creature on the planet for even suggesting such a thing and then slapped me on the back as a reminder that my wallet would also need to RSVP to this evening’s festivities.

“I think I’m going to pass, mate. Not tonight,” I said, already feeling wildly disenchanted with the conversation. “You should go, though. Have a good time.”

“I’m not going without you, man! Wouldn’t be any fun.” I smiled a bit as the sentiment lifted my spirits, but Kate had other plans for my pride it would seem.

“Aww, is that because of Cam’s sparkling personality and witty conversation?” she quipped sarcastically.

James again gave Kate that “are you dumb as a box of rocks” look once again.

“Yeah, that and the fact that he’s a chick magnet with an AMEX black card,” he said, laughing in a manner that he thought was most definitely conspiratorial. Now I felt entirely unamused. Kate shook her head in disgust almost imperceptibly as she eyed me.

“Gross,” Kate said, eyeing James with displeasure.

“I know, it reeks in here, right?”

“It does. You should seriously consider leaving,” Kate said flatly, disgusted.

James was apparently oblivious to Kate’s veiled jab. I’d had about enough and excused myself as I stood from my seat and headed to the bar to stew. It wasn’t as though I didn’t know what my appeal was to James, and the truth was I valued knowing where I stood with him. There was no pretense. He was someone to go out with and have mindless fun with, not another person trying to fix me. But hearing it out loud—the sheer superficiality of our relationship—it was a tougher pill to swallow than I liked.

From the relative calm at the bar, I watched Kate as she went back to scrolling through emails on her iPhone, briefly pausing to answer an email or two, but all the while her expression never changed. I had the distinct feeling that our relationship was progressing backward, and it perturbed me. I hated it even more when Matt Castell plopped himself down next to her and began chatting her up jovially. That fuck! So much for him “bailing on the after-party early,” as he had intimated earlier. It was nearly midnight and he was still lurking about like an irritating gremlin. I immediately decided to commit to getting inordinately pissed.

“Macallan, neat,” I barked at the bartender.

“Uh-oh,” Amber said, grinning at me as she suddenly appeared beside me.

Drawing in a breath, I starred at Kate and Matt.

“I take it things aren’t going well in the Princess Publicity pursuit!”

I glared at Amber.

“I told you to tread lightly with that one, Cam.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t,” I said, taking a sip of the whiskey that the bartender had laid in front of me.

I could immediately tell that Amber felt sorry for me as she eyed me sympathetically like I was a fucking lost puppy that couldn’t find his way home. I cast a gentle glare at her, which she promptly ignored.

“Well, there’s only one thing to do, then.”

“And what’s that?”

“Make her jealous, of course.”

Amber leaned over the bar and promptly grabbed an unattended bottle of whiskey and moments later, my hand, pulling me toward the exit. I felt Kate’s eyes on me as we sailed past the couch she sat on with Matt.

“Are you done for the night, then?” Kate yelled after me.

“Oh, he and I are just getting started, sweetheart. Don’t wait up,” Amber purred confidently.

For about the two-hundredth time that day, I felt mortified as Amber dragged me out of the after-party. At that point, however, I had lost my will to fight and simply allowed myself to be led from the room. I looked back regretfully at Kate, though, wishing with the entirety of my heart that she would stop me. Newsflash…she didn’t.