CHAPTER TWELVE
THE DAY Marlow and Dot Entertainment were going to lose their power to take him away from New York, Greg woke up alone in his hotel room. Sylvia had had a ladies' night with her friends the previous day, and it wasn't until Greg had gone to bed that it hit him that it was the first night they spent apart since they'd gotten together.
He tossed and turned for hours, coming up with more and more ridiculous reasons for Dot to make him go back. He fell into a restless sleep at some point, but when the alarm went off, the last thing he wanted was to get out of bed.
He finally dragged himself out when it was almost time for him to leave. He rushed through his morning routine and didn't even check his phone, so he didn't read any of his messages before he was in the car on the way to the theater.
His agent had sent him a link with added "CALL ME ASAP!!!" note, and Greg felt his stomach clench as he waited for the website to load. What he found there was possibly the most ridiculous article about him that had come out in the recent weeks. The reporter claimed that Greg's co-star and former girlfriend, Janice Cornwell, had told her friends she and Greg had reconnected and she was hopeful they would get back together.
Reconnected. Greg hadn't talked to Janice for ages. Sure, they had both attended the Academy Awards earlier in the year, but if sitting in the same room counted as reconnecting, Greg had "reconnected" with a few hundred people that night.
He dropped the phone on the seat next to him. Janice wasn't a person who would say something like that for a few seconds of fame in the gossip column, so it could be completely made up by the reporter. After all, it wouldn't be the first time—he'd been through numerous rumors about girlfriends and a few about boyfriends.
But Greg would bet money it was Marlow's last try to mess with him. It was quite a desperate move, though—not to mention late.
He wished he could call the guy and face this openly. He wanted to tell him to leave him alone and stop messing with his life just because he could. He wanted—
His phone rang and Nate's ID appeared on the screen. Greg took a deep breath.
"Hello?"
"Hi, I'm glad I caught you early. I don't know if you saw—"
Greg curled his fingers into a fist. "I saw it. It's bogus and I'm sure it's Marlow. The timing's too convenient."
"I figured," Nate said. "That's why I called. You can't do anything about it. I get that it pissed you off, I can hear that, but now is not the time to get stupid."
"I wasn't actually going to call him," Greg said, voice tight and too biting. He took a deep breath and was about to apologize, but Nate didn't give him time.
"Good. It's nothing but a desperate attempt to stir something. I'd say it's bark over bite, but it's not even that. It's more of a yelp of someone who's about to throw in a towel."
Greg exhaled slowly. "Why now?"
"To provoke you, to make you act out. It's the last day, so you start thinking you're free and maybe you'll make a mistake. That's what I'd guess, at least. Because even a half-decent lawyer will tell Dot the article is nothing they can use."
"Okay." Greg's shoulders dropped. He wasn't going to relax until the day was over, but Nate talked him off the ledge at least. "Do you know if Sylvia has seen it?"
"I don't think so. She told us yesterday she's avoiding the Internet." Nate paused. "You haven't talked to her today?"
"No, not yet. I wanted to come pick her up after work and take her somewhere to celebrate, if…when it's over." Greg stared through the window. Only a few hours left. "I should get the final news this afternoon, and I'll head to your office straight away."
"Good, okay. Keep your cool and you'll be fine," Nate told him. "See you in a few hours, but call me if anything happens in the meantime."
They said their goodbyes and Greg disconnected. He needed to call his agent and his publicist, and then he needed to focus on the rehearsal. To hell with Marlow and his stupid tricks, Greg was not going to lose this fight right before it was over.
***
The rehearsal wasn't a complete disaster, but it was probably his worst day since they'd started. He fumbled the lines a few times and missed the mark once, and he kept losing his focus on the character. He wasn't the only one tense, either. Everybody knew today was the make-or-break for his chances at staying, and even their unflappable director was on edge.
The day dragged impossibly slow. Every time they called a break, Greg would rush to check his phone under the watchful eye of everyone around him, but it wasn't until they finished for the day that he found two missed calls from his agent.
He hit redial with a pounding heart.
"You're free," she said before greetings. That was why she was worth every single dollar he was paying her. Possibly more.
Greg sat down on the closest seat, his legs suddenly a little wobbly. "You sure?"
She snorted. "Yes, I'm sure. The contract specifies the end of the day as the end of the business hours on the West Coast, but I got the call early. I think we weren't the only ones who figured Marlow was messing with you, and they felt bad. But whatever the reason, it's done. You're free." He could hear her smiling into the phone, and he laughed, refusing to acknowledge the edge of hysteria in it.
"That's… I can't even tell you."
"I have a pretty good idea," she told him. "Listen, I'm really happy for you, and I'm sure you'll be great. I'll be flying down to see it, so you better be."
He chuckled. "Yes, ma'am."
"Good. Now, go celebrate with the girlfriend. Bye."
Greg couldn't stop grinning. The huge weight that had been crushing him to the ground was suddenly gone, and he almost couldn't believe it. Weeks of waiting for the ax to fall, and now there was no ax. He was free to do what he wanted, he was free to stay in New York, and play on Broadway, and—
And be with Sylvia.
Greg needed to get out of here fast.
He relayed the news to the cast and crew and spent a few minutes celebrating with them, but his mind was miles away already, and he excused himself quickly. He couldn't wait to get to Sylvia.
He just needed to make a short stop on the way.
***
During his frequent visits to the F.Y.U. office, Greg had met some of the people working in other offices as they'd waited together for the elevator or rode in one. They'd never talked to him—usually they hadn't even paid him any attention.
This time, though, he was drawing a lot of stares, but not because of who he was. Everyone was looking at the big bouquet he was holding—so big that he couldn't wrap his fingers all the way around it.
A tall, elegant woman with the kind of natural gray hair Greg would never see in Hollywood smiled at him when they were the last two people in the elevator. "She's a lucky woman."
"I'm a lucky man," Greg told her, and she nodded, patting him on the arm as the door opened on her floor. "Good answer."
Greg grinned the rest of the way up, and when he arrived at the right floor, he walked into the office with a smile still on his face. He dropped it when he noticed Sylvia's desk was empty and the only person there was Nate, who raised his eyebrows at the sight of him and the flowers.
"Fancy meeting you here."
Greg looked at the empty chair again. "I'm here for Sylvia."
"Pity, I really thought the flowers were for me," Nate told him dryly. "Any good news to share, perhaps?"
He nodded. He really, really wanted to tell Sylvia first, but he wasn't going to leave Nate hanging. "Great news, even."
That got him a smile and a pat on the shoulder. "Good for you. But Sylvia's with Dean and Kevin." Nate tilted his head down the hall. "They needed a translator, and she's fluent in French."
Before Greg could say anything, his phone started ringing in his pocket and he winced, looking around. He didn't want Sylvia to come in and see him with the flowers and on the phone.
Nate seemed to pick up on it, because he gestured to his office, which was the closest. "Hide there and take your call, I'll go bug Shawn a bit."
Greg went into Nate's office and put down the flowers on the nearest chair before pulling out his phone and seeing his publicist's ID.
"Hi, Mike."
"Hey, congratulations on being a free man again."
Greg sat back on the couch, straightening his legs in front of him. "Thanks. I have to say, it feels amazing."
"I bet," Mike said, but then he grunted like he did every time he was about to say something he wasn't sure Greg was going to like, and that made Greg tense again.
"What is it?"
"Marlow called me."
Greg frowned. "What?" He thought they were through. What the hell was that guy doing?
"He claimed he saw that article that came out today and it got him thinking—"
"You can't be serious."
"I wish. He basically said that he knew there was bad blood between the two of you and he wished to mend fences. Starting with, as he said, doing everything he could to help you rekindle your relationship with Janice—"
"There's no relationship!" Greg protested, rubbing the back of his neck. This was ridiculous.
"I know that. I told him you weren't interested, but he insisted on me at least relaying the message."
"What the hell?"
Mike snorted. "I don't know."
"Whatever, I don't care. I'm not going to be dragged into a relationship against my will." Especially when I'm already in one.
"Okay, okay, I get it. Don't shoot the messenger. I only wanted to let you know."
Greg stood up and turned to stare at the view of New York through the wall windows in Nate's office. This entire conversation was bizarre, and he needed to end it. "Fine. I guess I need to consult a lawyer, check if there's any chance of enforcing Dot to get Marlow as far away from me as possible, because that's beyond insane. But I'll take care of this later. Right now, I need to go."
After they said their goodbyes, Greg disconnected and put his phone back into his pocket. He rolled his shoulders and tried to regain his good mood. He was free, and that was all that mattered.
Something clattered out in the foyer and he rushed out of Nate's office to see Sylvia, who froze when she caught his gaze. Her purse was on the floor, about half the contents spread around her feet.
Before he could say or do anything, she grabbed her bag from the floor and almost sprinted out the front door of the office.
Greg froze in place and watched through tinted glass as she bypassed the elevator and went for the stairs. What just happened?
"What the hell did you do?" came a male voice from his left. Kevin, the company's computer specialist, stood with his arms crossed against his chest. He was usually pretty upbeat, but now he looked like he was considering punching Greg if he didn't like his answer.
"I don't—" Greg frowned. "I came to tell her I'm free. I brought flowers and…" He shook his head. On the other side of the corridor, the door opened, and he didn't need to turn to know Nate and Shawn were listening now, too.
Kevin raised his eyebrows. "And what?"
"And nothing. I came here, she was busy. I'd have waited out here, but I had to take a phone call, and Nate let me use his office." Greg stared at the front door, wishing Sylvia would come back. He wanted a do-over without that stupid call. "I was in here for a few minutes, and I heard something hit the floor, so I figured she was probably back, but the second she saw me, she ran." Greg looked down at Sylvia's stuff, still lying on the floor next to her desk. "I don't know what I did," he added quietly.
"She was fine less than five minutes ago." Kevin shoved his hands into his pockets, no longer looking as he was about to punch him. "Could she have overheard something she wouldn't like?"
"I don't…" And then it hit him. "Oh fuck."
He ran after her, ignoring Kevin and the other guys. He needed to get to Sylvia.