HappyNovelOther than that one flimsy excuse, Simon couldn't think of any other reason. Ethan had been out of it all night, and it was as if he hadn't even heard half of what Simon said. He looked lost in his own world.
Simon, frustrated, slammed back a shot of whiskey. "Ethan?" he called.
Only then did Ethan lift his head, his voice distant. "What is it?" "You good, man? You've been zoning out all night." Ethan rubbed his forehead, his fingers pressing into his temples when his phone buzzed quietly on the table. He glanced at the screen, then said flatly, "I'm leaving." Simon stared at him in disbelief. Seriously? Tonight's meeting this whole damn setup-was Ethan's idea. He had practically twisted Simon's arm to cmeet Grace and throw a project her way. Simon had agreed. Now, before they even finished the first drink, the guy was bailing? Simon clenched his teeth, feeling ridiculously stifled. "You" He barely got the word out before Tim appeared to wheel Ethan out.
Simon slumped back in his seat, fuming. He pulled out his phone, his mood in the gutter.
Without thinking, he shot off a text to his usual hookup. "I'm asking you a question. What the hell are you so busy with?" The last message he sent had gone unanswered. And now, this one didn't get a response either.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtSimon thought as he glared at his screen, "There's no way she'd be this busy." He waited ten minutes, but still, there was nothing. The silence gnawed at him. From the day he was born, he had never, ever been treated like an afterthought. Feeling even more irritated, he grabbed his jacket and stormed outside, calling her.
"You know, Yasmine, this isn't cool. Every tyou called, I cno hesitation. And now that it'sreaching out, you're brushingoff with 'I'm busy"?" Yasmine was in the middle of a meeting, seated at a long table surrounded by screenwriters. They were finalizing the next round of scripts when his voice crackled through her earbuds. Her brows furrowed immediately.
"Mr. Yule, I thought we had an agreement," she said evenly, keeping her tone professional.
Simon stiffened.
They had agreed on something. He had set the rules from the start-no prying into each other's private lives, no , and no attachments.
They were only involved with ne other when it was between the sheets. If either of them wanted out, they could walk away at any time.
0 Back then, he had thought he was being generous. If she hadn't liked it, he would have just found someone else. He hadn't expected her to- agree so fast, with such obvious relief as if she had been hoping for exactly that kind of arrangement too.
That had rubbed him the wrong way from the beginning. He was Simon, damn it. With his looks, his money, and his power, women were supposed to fall over themselves for him, not act like he was just another passing stranger.
That night, pissed off and rebelling against his family, he ended up actually sleeping with her. He hadn't expected it to be good, but it was-good enough that he kept going back.
Outside the bedroom, they were practically strangers. They never talked about their lives. He didn't even know what she did for work et But that first night, her inexperience had been obvious-awkward touches, hesitant reactions. She was pure, no doubt about it.
And that only made the contrast sharper. She looked so polished, cool, and untouchable. Who would've guessed she was that untouched underneath? It lingered in his mind more than he wanted to admit.
Now, sitting alone and tense, he lit a cigarette and took a drag. Nothing felt right- not the room, not the night, and definitely not his mood.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏm"I get it," he said, his voice low. "But I'm not in a good mood tonight. You seriously can't even spare a little tfor me?"
There was a long pause. Then, her voice cacross the line sounding perfectly calm. Then let's call it off. We'll both move on and find other people." She hung up before he could respond.
Simon stared at his phone, stunned. He didn't even know how long hen remained there. Finally, rage boiling over, he called her again. She didn't answer.
Something in his chest twisted-something he couldn't name.
He sent a text, his thumbs pounding the screen. "What's that supposed to mean? Do you think you can just dumplike that?" This time, she replied almost instantly, saying, "Mr. Yule, don't make a scene. Being clingy is pathetic."
Simon gripped his phone so tightly his knuckles turned white. He stared at at hat one sentence, reading it over and over, making sure he hadn't imagined it. Clingy? She was calling him clingy?
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