Page 7 of Scripted for Love and Poison (Sol and Luke Mystery #2)
“ T his isn’t happening!” Sol protested when they reached their table inside the big hangar where the ceremony would take place.
Luke narrowed his eyes at her, silently questioning. “Sol, you keep saying that, and then things still happen.”
“Maybe it’s going to be a good thing, and she can tell you more about that position she mentioned,” Luke said, and Sol wanted to strangle him.
Why was he so fucking reasonable? Yes, she’d always been attracted to the part of him that respected and supported her career, but was he actually suggesting she should leave London?
He was literally the most attached-to-London person she’d ever met.
A job offer in LA had to sound preposterous to him.
She wasn’t still sure how he’d said yes to accompany her here when it meant leaving his dear hometown for four full days—more, counting the many hours spent in the air.
Yet all of a sudden, he wanted her to contemplate a job away from London?
Could he be getting tired of her and that was why he was pushing that idea so much?
She’d decided she couldn’t wait to find out the answers to those pressing questions until later that day, when they’d finally be done with the circus of the awards ceremony and alone.
She was going to try to take him to a more private place to talk about everything—the Christmas debacle included.
But although having that conversation was all Sol needed, they were interrupted once again.
“Look who’s here!” Claudia’s high-pitched voice reverberated behind Sol, and she decided the person she most wanted to strangle was her former editor and not the man standing next to her, looking dashing.
“It looks like we’re seated together, yes,” Sol said, trying to sound cordial and unannoyed but not sure she’d achieved it.
“You need to tell me what you have been doing in London,” Claudia said to Sol. “Other than picking up sexy men, of course.”
Sol didn’t know how to tell Claudia that it wasn’t okay to objectify Luke in that way, even if he looked more like the character of a soapy TV show than a real person sometimes. She could testify to the fact that he was, indeed, an actual human whose feelings could be hurt.
“He’s quite smart, too, you know?” Sol said.
She didn’t want to confront Claudia too overtly.
The ceremony would drag for more than three hours, and she didn’t want to be seething and angry, seated next to a person with whom she’d just had an argument, during all that time.
But she also didn’t like the way Claudia had spoken about her lover.
“Is he now? So, how’s life been treating you across the pond?”
“I’ve been writing a book and freelancing for Red Carpet . I normally work with Julie McQueen. Is it possible she told me you folks know each other?” Sol asked Claudia, attempting civility and hoping Claudia would take the hint.
“Yes, yes, dullest woman in the business.” Claudia waved a hand, brushing Sol off.
Sol begged to differ. She would take Julie over Claudia as an editor any day, but she wasn’t allowed to protest, because Claudia continued voicing all her thoughts.
“But look at you, acting all grown-up and writing a book!”
Sol decided not to say anything. She was forty-three.
She would have objectively said she’d started acting like a grown-up at least a decade before.
That’s what homeownership did to people, right?
It crashed their youth. Plus, that book of hers was not only unpublished, ever since she’d written its closing paragraph, she’d felt a sort of dread at the idea of no longer being able to spend time in that world.
“You know who else was writing a book, right?” Claudia said, taking Sol out of her reverie. “Simon Smith.”
“Really?” Sol said, and she could sense Luke’s body tensing next to her, paying closer attention.
“It was supposed to be a tell-all, first-person account about his experience as a movie critic. I’m told he shopped it all over town, and no one was buying it.” A hint of a satisfied smirk played on Claudia’s lips.
“I mean, I can relate to that,” Sol said. “Agents haven’t exactly been jumping at the opportunity of representing me, either.”
But she couldn’t ask Claudia any more details about Simon’s thwarted literary endeavors, as the other guests occupying their table arrived then, and she was surprised to recognize none other than filmmaker Victor Lago among them.
···
In hindsight, Sol should have realized that Victor Lago was going to be one of the guests at their table.
He’d had an ongoing romantic relationship with showrunner Abbie Domingo for more than a decade, and Abbie’s name was on one of the seating cards on the table next to another one that read Abbie Domingo’s Guest .
The second season of Abbie’s show, Slowing Down , had been nominated in several categories and was one of the favorite drama contenders of the night.
It was clear that Lago had wanted to show support to his partner, even if his own movie, Haughty Horizons , had been a darling a mere few weeks before but hadn’t amassed any recognition after Simon Smith’s review.
“Hello, everyone, I’m Abbie,” the gracious showrunner said while getting to the table.
The fifty-something-year-old had a small frame but a presence that filled the room, dressed in a stunning eggplant sleeveless gown.
“So glad to be here tonight. So honored to be nominated. I’m a bit nervous, though. ”
Abbie laughed anxiously while shaking Claudia’s, Luke’s, and Sol’s hands.
“Nervous?” a curmudgeonly Victor Lago said, falling ungraciously over a chair, not acknowledging the rest of the people at table 13.
Next to Abbie, the filmmaker looked pale, tired, and even slightly disheveled with his short gray hair sticking up and his tuxedo hanging awkwardly on him. “This is a joke of an awards show! ”
Abbie’s laugh suddenly turned from nervous to embarrassed.
Things started to feel extra uncomfortable at table 13 when a couple of journalists joined the group: Jason Zit, who was Simon Smith’s editor at The Showbiz Reporter and had overseen the publication of his review of Haughty Horizons , and critic Travis Wise from Performance Weekly .
“This is getting more and more interesting by the minute,” Sol shared with Luke in an almost inaudible tone. She proceeded to introduce herself and Luke to the newcomers. “And I don’t know if you remember me,” Sol said when she addressed Jason Zit and Travis Wise.
“Of course, Sol, how are you doing?” Travis said in his usual affable style. He was a Black sixty-something-year-old who had a few more white hairs than the last time Sol had seen him.
“I don’t remember you, actually,” Jason said, abruptly.
“She worked for me for a while,” intervened Claudia, as all of them had worked together at Performance Weekly a few years before, while Sol still lived in Los Angeles.
“Oh, you worked at Performance Weekly . I also worked at Performance Weekly ,” said Jason. “I’m an executive editor at The Showbiz Reporter now.”
“We were there together for a couple of years at Performance Weekly . Travis and I worked together for longer, though,” said Sol.
“Really? I still can’t remember you,” Jason said.
Sol blinked. She didn’t know what to make of that.
The fifty-something-year-old man with wispy hair and yellowing teeth had worked on the same floor as her, a mere couple of desks down from her, four years before.
She had to admit that a pandemic had happened after that, and she, too, had seemed to forget some things, but still .
“Oh, please don’t hold it against him,” a tall and slender redhead woman of around fifty told Sol. “He won’t admit to it, but he’s completely face blind. His main fault is not even trying to hide it.”
“Okay, I guess,” Sol said, confused.
“I’m Emily, Jason’s wife. If it’s any consolation, I do remember you from a couple of holiday parties organized by Performance Weekly ,” the redhead continued, and that made Sol feel bad because she couldn’t remember her.
And she knew she wasn’t face blind herself.
“But you were there with someone different.” Emily pointed to Luke, who was standing next to Sol.
“I probably attended those with my husband,” Sol said and immediately realized the blunder.
What was she thinking? Being in Los Angeles and surrounded by former colleagues had brought back vividly a period of her life that was now over.
She felt Luke by her side, looking at her with confused eyes.
“My ex -husband,” she corrected herself.
“Ah,” said Emily.
“Yes,” added Sol awkwardly.
“I personally think she totally traded up with the new beau,” Claudia felt inexplicably compelled to say.