The One That Got Away

Chapter 11: This Time Around

Just like I was told, I arrived at the right place and at the right time. I focused on finding Andrea and on what I am paid to do. 

I know I cannot avoid Tristan, I'm not stupid enough to assume that we won't be working together. I also suspect that this isn't a coincidence. But it's been 10 years. Why now?

Finally, I spotted Andrea leaning on the open door of a conference room.

"Oh good, you're here. Take any seat you want." She waved us inside and closed the glass doors as we both filed in. 

Choosing a seat facing the doors, I noticed the man sitting on the chair situated at the head of the conference table. With his distinguishable dark locks, peircing hazel eyes and goatee, I know this is the director and screenwriter, John Stevens. After working with a couple of celebrities and working in the music business, I've come to be immuned to their status. I've learned how to see them as ordinary people.

Tristan sat across me while Andrea situated herself on the chair beside me. When we were all seated, Mr. Smith turned to me with a smile.

"Good morning, I believe you're Ms. Anderson." 

I smiled back at him, stood up and shook the hand he offered.

"Uhm... just Dru; Pleasure to meet you." I sat back down and crossed my legs.

"The pleasure's mine." He said with a wink.

I could see Tristan sulking on his chair while glaring at Mr. Smith. 

I hid a smirk. Even though he was the one who got away, he still thinks he can act like this. Maybe acting like I don't remember him might do him and me some good. 

"So what do you know about the franchise, Dru?"

I turned to him and said what I knew. "Just what the public knows."

He chuckled and so did Tristan. Andrea didn't but I guess that's the price of being in the industry for long.

Mr. Smith leaned on the table and stared at me. "I guess we should remedy that because you'll be our lyricist and composer for the rest of this franchise."

What?

Before I could say anything, he turned to Andrea and motioned to her notebook. "Andrea, brief her through the motions, processes and additional information about the franchise. I want both of you packed and ready to meet me in the airport by 8 am tomorrow. And while technically, you're still her boss, I want you to report directly to me about everything."

Andrea didn't even bat a perfectly groomed eyelash. "That all, Mr. Smith?"

He smiled at her. "She also has to work with Tristan full time with this one. Thank you, Andrea. Dru." Straightening his jacket, he was off before I could even fully process what he said.

Andrea started packing her things then headed to the door. "Dru, contact me as soon as you get home and I want you to start packing everything you need to stay in Chicago for a few months." With that, she was gone and I was left with Tristan.

I stood up and so did he. "Dru..." 

"I'm sorry, Mr. Thompson. I've got things to do but I'll contact you as soon as I can."

He grabbed my arm to stop me. "You really don't remember?"

I acted confused. "Remember what?"

"Never mind." He dropped my arm but his hand still lingered. I turned away from him and got out but I could still feel his eyes on me. Before the elevator doors could close, our eyes collided and I saw myself ten years ago in his shoes. A familiar pain made itself known but I shook it off when the doors finally slid close.

But with every floor descended, I still see the hurt, confusion and disappointment, written on his face. Instead of feeling guilty, I felt anger. He should've seen that look on my face when he got away a decade ago. This time, I'll make sure he won't ever see that look on my face.