Herophine: All Good Things

Chapter 17

Hero POV

As soon as the meeting ended, I dug my phone out of my pocket and texted Daniel. He had given me his number when he dropped me off at the hotel the first time and I hoped he was already parked outside so I could get the fuck out of here and away from Viviane.

Okay.. so I probably could have handled the situation with her a little better. Maybe? No? Fuck. Everything that happened while in Atlanta between her and I and then me and Jo.. it's something I try to block out honestly. For the longest time, I felt guilty about it. I hated myself for stringing Viv a long and Jo finding out about it. I came to grips with myself being responsible for Jo losing the baby, even though she swore it wasn't. And then now to see her? There's no way I can go a week and half here without speaking a single word to her. As hard as I try.

On top of that, I'm here for work. I take business seriously and don't let personal shit get in the way. If I ignore her, I'll end up looking like a pompous asshole movie star who can't give regular people the time of day. Not who I am or who I'm trying to be.. god damn it.

I don't bother waiting for the elevator as soon as I leave the room. Everyone else from the meeting mills towards it but I take the opportunity to push through the exit door at the opposite end of the hallway that leads into the stairwell. I jog down the stairs and hear the door click behind me. No one seems to follow, thank god.

I give the receptionist on the main floor a little nod as I make my way out the front door. Daniel is just pulling up and I barely wait for him to come to a complete stop before I pry at the door handle of the passenger rear door and hop in. The windows are tinted, giving me privacy from the girls walking out of the building that were in the meeting.

Viviane seems to be laughing with one of them, and I study her as she brushes her chocolate hair over one shoulder and pulls her leather jacket tighter. Daniel has yet to leave the pick up spot because of the wave of on coming traffic at the moment, so I watch her from behind the window and she is none the wiser.

Don't get me wrong, Viv is a pretty girl. I remember her telling me once that her father is of Italian decent, blessing her with dark hair and even darker features. Her eyes could pierce through a wall if she stared long enough I'm sure with how green they are. They almost resemble trees in a forest after a long night of rain, when the sun finally hits and the colors are more pronounced.

She was basically born to be a model, I guess.

But as beautiful as she may be, she's not Josephine. She's not the woman I love or would lay down my life for if there ever was a time. She's someone else's future to enjoy and someone I will to stay in my past.

I check my phone and don't see any new texts or missed calls from Jo. She knows how it is to be in meetings and respects not blowing up my phone. But at this moment, I wish she would have. Conversing with her may have distracted me from all that went on.

The drive back to the hotel is longer than it was here, with rush hour traffic kicking up and all. The skies are still grey and dreary, much like when I arrived earlier. Tiny drops of moisture gather on the windows as we drive and the countless buildings pass by as I keep my gaze to the outside.

Once parked, Daniel reaches for the door handle to let him self out and more than likely open my door for me like he's paid to do. I stop him and thank him for the ride, telling him that I'll be in touch tomorrow morning about heading back to the studio.

After exiting the car, I shield my face as I jog towards the entry of the hotel. There's a bellhop standing under an umbrella and he quickly opens the door for me to go inside. The faint smell of coffee and floral hit my nose as I step inside, and I see a few people milling around in the lobby, some pulling suitcases and others huddled in small groups conversing. Soft instrumental music plays over the hidden speakers of the main floor and I hear laughter coming from across the large room. Glancing in it's direction, I see a few tables and chairs spread out apart from each other and that of a bar top lit up by soft glowing purple lights.

I should go up to the room. I'm fucking exhausted and can't seem to settle my racing mind down, but a drink might just do the trick. Most of the people who occupy the bar area look to be middle aged men in expensive suits and shiny watches. They probably don't have a clue who I am, so I most likely won't be bothered.

After letting a couple pass in front of me while they go to check in, I head towards the furthest corner of the lobby and spot an empty bar stool at the far end of the marble covered counter. The man working has on an all black button up uniform on with a gold and black tie to match. He looks to be in his thirties and seems to be in his element serving drinks.

"What can I get ya, Sir?" He glances at me as I climb up on the seat. He's in the middle of pouring soda water into a small glass, which he quickly returns his attention to as I lean against the bar.

"Scotch on the rocks," I answer, my accent seeming to take him by surprise. Without a word or question of my age, he slides the drink he's just made in front of him to a man in dress slacks and an unbuttoned blazer before preparing my drink.

A television plays over the bar silently as a weather report flashes across the screen, indicating there to be more rain in the next few days. I wonder what the weather ended up being like in LA today? Had it been sunny and 75 like it had been the past week? Did Jo go for a run? Go to the beach? I hadn't talked to her since our time on video a few hours ago. While taking my gaze off of the bartender who is piling ice cubes into a pint size glass, I dig my phone from my front pocket and immediately pull up her name.

The phone rings and rings. One right after another. After five times, the bartender places a small napkin down in front of me and then sets my glass on top. I nod to him a silent thank you and keep the phone pressed to my ear as I hear nothing but ongoing rings. Jo doesn't have a voicemail set up. Why, I have no idea. Forced with not being able to leave her a message, I hang up after what seemed like the twentieth one and stuff my phone back in my pocket at my side.

She had said she was going to dinner with her sister. She was always one to leave her phone tucked away inside whatever bag she decided to carry for the day, not wanting to be rude and out of conversation. I knew she would eventually see my missed call and return it either once she got home or decided to step away for a minute.

The first drink of scotch burns my throat as I swallow it down. The strong taste of it making memories of the night I had cooked dinner for her and I before we were called back to work flash in my mind. The night I basically went all out in seducing my already girlfriend, which had very clearly worked. I picture Jo on her knees in front of me in the kitchen which are quickly overtaken by images of us fucking on the island countertop. I smile to myself, reliving one of the best date nights we had ever had.

One thing is for sure, waking up alone tomorrow morning is going to suck. Going to bed alone tonight, maybe even more so. Two weeks. We've survived longer. After taking down another swig of liquor, I place my elbows on the bar in front of me and rest my forehead against my fists. I close my eyes for a moment, feeling myself slightly relax until I hear the stool to the right of me shift a little.

"A glass of pino, please," a voice sweetly says beside me. A voice that is familiar and makes me want to vomit.

Jesus fucking Christ. Here we go again.