Sugar Sweet Sin

The Interview

I'm a mess at work. I screw up recipes I've made a hundred times before. I forget a pan of muffins in the oven. I'm hardly functioning. Mama Pat starts to look at me like I'm insane. But it's hard to work when I'm standing right where it happened—I can't look at my workstation without remembering the way the metal felt against my back. I gave everything the scrubbing to end all scrubbings—this is still my place of business, after all—but I can't clean away those vivid memories. Every time I speak with a client about a cake, my mind goes back to Dante's tasting—to his lips on my skin, to the feeling of his weight on top of me, to the smell of his hair. I'm never going to get it out of my mind.

It's exactly eleven days after Dante and I had sex—not that I'm counting—when I get the text from Jack:

The Devil Himself is officially on the studio's shit list.

Jack's been crazy busy with work this week, so this message is out of the blue. But I'm not about to let him escape without giving me details.

ME: What are you talking about? What happened?

JACK: He's canceled two appointments this week. TWO. And apparently he's weeks behind on turning in this script he owes.

ME: Oh.

JACK: Rumor has it that he's refusing to take calls from his manager.

ME: That's weird.

JACK: Yeah. You wouldn't know anything about this, would you?

ME: What makes you think it has something to do with me?

JACK: He's been acting weird, YOU have been acting weird... I thought there might be a connection.

Part of me wants to tell Jack everything. But even though he's my best friend, I'm not sure he'll understand this. So I send him one more text:

I'd be an idiot to have anything to do with him. But I've got to run and finish a cake. Dinner soon?

I shove my phone in my pocket without waiting for his reply.

I'm not sure what to make of this information about Dante. Even if he is acting strange, I doubt it has anything to do with me. It's been eleven days, and he hasn't tried to contact me once.

But it doesn't matter how many times I try to convince myself of his indifference—the lies come crumbling down the following night after work when I stop by the supermarket.

I don't normally read the tabloids. In fact, I've made a habit of actively avoiding them. But when you're standing in line at the checkout, sometimes your eye wanders unintentionally to the glossy magazines displayed on every side of you. And today, my eye lands straight on a giant photo of Dante.

He's only on one cover—most of the other magazines boast pictures of Luca or Emilia, since their engagement is still hot news—but the photo of Dante on Celebrity Spark is a striking one. And the headline even more so: "Dante Confesses: Why He's Still Single."

I suddenly feel like I'm going to vomit right here in the middle of the store.

I shouldn't read it. I know I shouldn't. And yet my hand is reaching out, grabbing the issue from the rack. Flipping through the pages until I find the cover story. My heart is in my ears as my eyes skim over the words. Most of his answers are typical PR fluff—comments about Cataclysm: Earth and general good will towards his family—but then I get to the meat of the interview.

The interviewer brings up the fact that Dante attended the Cataclysm: Earth premiere without a date and asks him about his love life.

"I'm currently single," his response goes. "But I wouldn't say I'm available."