Page 20 of The Player's Club
The thought of Mac hating me made me feel sick. It was one thing if he just got tired of me. It was another if he could never trust me again.
Why do you care so much if Mac trusts you?
I shook myself. Right now, I needed to think about when it came to my relationship with Todd. Because if I wanted to experiment with Mac, I would need to break up with my boyfriend first. I’d toed the line so far. But if I ever crossed it, I wouldn’t be able to look Todd in the eyes.
Roy returned to his desk and shuffled some papers around, finally handing me some stained with coffee. “Spilled some this morning,” he explained, “but you can still read them.”
I scanned the pages. “Trevor and CJ?” I looked up in surprise. “The morning news anchors?”
“Ayup. Apparently, they’re screwing.” Roy put his feet up onto his desk, looking smug. “Just got the tip last night. Somebody saw them coming out of Le Château together after getting real cozy.”
“Damn.” I shook my head. “Didn’t Trevor just have a baby with his wife?”
Roy nodded. “Exactly.”
Disgusted, I shoved the documents into my briefcase. “I guess I’m going to Malibu, then?”
“ASAP. Follow them out of the news station, see what you can get.” Roy’s bushy eyebrows narrowed. “And don’t come back here tellin’ me that you couldn’t find shit. Otherwise, I’m gonna think you’re fucking with me, Andrews.”
Unfortunately for me, Trevor and CJ had already left the station by the time I’d arrived. Damn LA traffic, I groused. I’d left with plenty of time to run into them, but then I’d gotten caught on the freeway after an accident. I didn’t arrive in Malibu until after lunchtime.
I didn’t want to go straight back to the office. I got some lunch and did some people watching while hoping to see some celebs. Lots of them lived in Malibu, and it wasn’t uncommon to see celebs getting mobbed outside the most popular restaurants in the area.
It was after I finished my salad that I remembered that Mac’s old girlfriend—Dawn Morrison—had her pottery studio here in Malibu. Looking up the address, I realized it was only a few blocks away.
And wouldn’t you know it, it was open, too.
The studio was small but well-maintained, with lots of plants and natural light filling the space. Words of affirmation were written across the walls, along with a few puns about throwing clay. There was even a painting of the famous scene from Ghoston one wall.
“Are you here for the beginners’ class?” a woman asked me as I wandered.
I blinked, my brain working overtime. It took me a second to realize the woman was Dawn herself.
She didn’t look at all like she had in high school, mostly because her hair was short and she was covered in tattoos now. She also looked like she worked out. I could see muscles bulging through her tight T-shirt, a six-pack peeking through the thin fabric.
“Uh, yeah,” I said on impulse. “Is there still room?”
“Sure thing.” Dawn waved me over, and before I knew it, I was sitting in the studio at a pottery wheel, learning how to make a ceramic bowl.
The class consisted of me and three other women. Dawn was an enthusiastic, fast-paced teacher. I could tell that she loved what she did. She made lots of jokes that kept the class from seeming too serious.
As I was trying to make a bowl that didn’t fall apart, I racked my brain. How did I get Dawn to tell me about Mac? Their high school had been too small for me to lie and say we’d both attended there.
When my bowl collapsed a third time, Dawn came over to lend a helping hand.
“You gotta keep your hands on it at all times,” she explained. “And keep the wheel spinning. Yeah, there you go. Don’t let up. But try not to hold it too hard either. Mold it into what you want. Don’t force it.” She winked at me.
I let out a nervous laugh. “I guess I’m thinking too hard. Or I’m just distracted.”
“Lots of people come in here when they’re stressed about work.”
“Oh, it’s not my work,” I hedged. I shot Dawn a glance. “I’m actually meeting an old boyfriend for dinner tonight. We dated in high school, and he wanted to see me again.”
Dawn raised an eyebrow. “You sound terrified.”
“Just nervous.” I gave her a small smile. “Sometimes I think he’s the one who got away, you know? We reconnected online, and when I realized he lived in the area . . .” I shrugged. “And now we’re having dinner.”
“And what about him? Is he single?” Dawn asked.