Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
And what about the model? Is she in a relationship? Is throwing her into this harming her? If so, that’s bullshit, too.
I’m proud of what Drake and I have in a weird way that I don’t quite understand. We may not be serious or in love, but we do have respect for each other and a friendship that’s deeper than any that I’ve ever had with a guy. That feels like something worth defending.
I glance at the clock and get to my feet, a smile on my lips.
It’s time to find Drake and get the heck out of here.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-EIGHT
Gianna
Painting in the dark is my favorite. There’s something romantic and moody about the dark sky, muted light, and a canvas waiting to be touched. On clear nights with bright stars, I like to create outdoors. It’s the only thing I enjoy doing outdoors, come to think of it.
My shoulders carry the tension of the day. Francine expected a word from the top floor about who will take the true crime spot on Thursdays. Drake must have heard the same thing because he seemed a bit on edge during lunch.
We haven’t discussed the elephant in the room. At first, I figured that this thing between us would’ve fizzled out by the time the decision was made, and it wouldn’t matter. But the fizzling has turned to sizzling, and now I’m afraid the news will be a bucket of cold water on the fire. We’ll have to leave this little bubble we’ve created and face reality. And I’d like to prevent that from happening for as long as possible.
At the very least, I was promised six weeks with Drake. I want to get that full experience.
My phone buzzes on the step stool beside me, and I glance at the screen. Francine? On a Thursday evening?
I place my egg carton of paint on the coffee table and wipe my hands with a towel. Then I pick up my phone and read her text.
Francine: Just got out of a meeting. Do you have a few minutes to talk?
Me: Sure.
Before I can worry or wonder what she might be calling about, the phone rings.
“That was quick,” I say, answering and immediately putting her on speakerphone. “Hey, Francine.”
“Hi, Gianna. How are you?”
“Good. You?”
“Harried. I have a few things to run by you, starting with an email that I sent this morning. There is a list of podcasts that want to feature you in the coming six weeks or so, along with a few national magazines looking for interviews. I need to know how you feel about these as soon as possible. Personally, I think a lot of them are a good call. There are a few that probably aren’t a good use of your time, but it’s ultimately up to you. Let me know if you want my opinion on any of them.”
National magazines? What the hell? “Is this about me, or the show, or Drake?”
“It’s a mixed bag. There are notes in the email.”
My stomach knots. “Okay. Great. Thanks.”
“Mercy Malone is back on the books. She’ll be in the States over the holidays and will stop by the week before Christmas. I don’t know that date off the top of my head, but I’ll add it to the calendar when I get back to my office.”
“That’s great news,” I say, smiling. “Very exciting. I saw online that she bought a Murat painting in Amsterdam last week. I hope she’s getting into her art era because that would be so much fun.”
She laughs. “That would make an interesting segment for sure. Next … I don’t know where to start with this.” The levity in her tone disappears. “Tomorrow marks one month of this dating thing with you and Drake.”
I’m well aware of that.
It’s been on my mind a lot for the past few days. I’ve tried to gauge whether he’s thinking about it, too, but I really have no idea. He goes through each day like the one before.
The uncertainty of what happens once the six-week period finishes scares me. And the fact that I’m scared terrifies me. I’m not like this. I cut the tie and move on because no one checks all the boxes anyway.
But Drake? He kind of does.
“Not only has this thing stirred up so much interest in your show, but it’s also done big things for Drake’s,” Francine continues. “He’s seen exponential growth, especially with females, which isn’t hard to figure out. All Canoodle’s shows have benefited from this, and the execs want to capitalize on it.”
“Of course, they do.”
Francine clears her throat. “I’m just going to put this out there. Drake will likely be moved to Thursdays.”
“Oh.” I move backward until the edge of the couch hits the back of my legs, then I sit. “Okay.”
I stare at the stack of scrapbooks in the corner and give myself a moment to decide how I feel. Sad? Angry? Disappointed? Instead, I’m … numb. It’s probably a delayed reaction, and I’ll be heartbroken in an hour. That would be very Pisces of me.