Ding!
The sound of the café bell has me looking up, and when I spot the man that walks through the doors, I stand up immediately.
Nicholas Chase was my senior back in school, and one of my good supporters back when my acting career took a negative hit that forced me into a hiatus.
His black hair glints in the sunlight streaking in from the windows and when his brown eyes catches mine, he grins.
"Oh look at you," he beams, his eyes dragging across my body pleasantly. "Beautiful as ever, Syd."
"Oh stop it," I flush.
"I have to admit, when I saw your name on my caller ID, I thought I was dreaming. It's been too damn long, hasn't it?"
"Three years is a long time, yeah."
I gesture for him to sit and he does, his eyes never leaving mine. "You look so different now, Syd. Not in a bad way, it's just...woah!"
A flush of shame creeps up my neck. I know what he means. I look mellow, quite opposite to how I was before I married Deckard.
Nicholas was always against me retiring at the early age of twenty two to marry Deckard. He told me that I would regret it, and that he would always be here when I realised my mistake.
Then, I was angry and felt like he was telling me how to live my life. But here we are.
I do in fact regret it and I'm back to him now, looking for a way back in. Honestly, what the hell was I even thinking, throwing my dreams away?
"I'm ready to come back, Nick. I admit, I was a fool to leave and you were right. I want to start over. I'm not expecting lead roles or anything, but...I can start from scratch. Supporting roles...heck, the tiniest roles. Anything to come back in."
I reach into my bag and pull out the folder I spent all night perfecting. I'd stayed up until morning, reworking my résumé back to reflect the real me. Sydney Sterling .
"Here," I tell him. "My résumé. It might be a little unconventional because I haven't had to make one in a while, but..."
He takes the folder but doesn't open it, his eyes on me with an amused tilt of his head. "You know you don't need to start from ground bottom, right?"
"I–"
"Sydney, with your talent and the awards you won even before you turned twenty, you don't need to start from zero. You have years of experience and besides, actors who understand both sides are rare. You're more valuable now than you were three years ago, and besides, the industry would still be looking for ways to make it up to you after your accident."
I shake my head with a sad smile. "The industry doesn't lack pretty young faces, Nick. I'm a 'has been' in their eyes probably."
"I love how you're still humble even after being married to a billionaire. That's so rich." He eyes me sarcastically, rolling his eyes. He leans in to the table, his eyes suddenly taking a more serious look. "But I have to ask though, why now? Does Deckard know you're considering this?"
I close my eyes tightly at the mention of Deckard's name, remembering everything that has happened in just a short span of two days.
"He doesn't know."
"Oh?"
"I'm preparing to divorce him actually, and I need to be independent completely from him."
Nicholas's eyes go wide and he leans even closer on the table. "Divorce? Sydney, I...I didn't see that coming. Are you alright? What happened? Did he hurt you?"
"I don't really want to talk about it," I whisper. "But it's inevitable and I just need to make sure I have plans put in place when the papers are signed."
"Have you spoken to a lawyer?"
"Not yet."
"You have to, Syd," he says, reaching across the table to briefly squeeze my hand. "You know billionaires always have a way of pulling strings to their favour."
I shrug, not really wanting to dwell on it.
"I heard there's a casting for the new series your team is working on?" I bring our focus back to work.
"Ah, yeah," he blinks, leaning back in his chair now. "In fact, I've got the perfect spot to fix you into. I'll send you the character details, and you can prepare for the on-site casting."
He takes my hand again. "The industry has been waiting for you to come back. I'm glad you did."
"Well, I couldn't keep this pretty face hidden forever, could I?"
He smiles, then he gets a notification on his phone. "I should get going," he says after checking it out. "I have a meeting at the studio, but I'll call you by the end of the week."
"Thank you, Nick. Truly."
We stand up together and head toward the exit. The café is busy now with the lunch hour. As we head to the door, I see two figures standing at the dessert counter with their backs to us. They're both wearing big designer sunglasses, but I know that blonde hair and tall figure anywhere.
Oh, for the love of me, they couldn't even care to be more discreet??
It's Deckard and Georgia clinging to his arm.
"Is that...?" Nicholas starts, his voice trailing off as he recognizes Deckard.
I grit my teeth. "My thoughts exactly."
Georgia says something into Deckard’s ear, laughing brightly, and then she reaches out, grabs him by his tie, and yanks him toward her.
She pulls him into a deep French kiss right there in the middle of the café, while his hands find her waist, steadying her and his body leaning into hers with a hunger hes never shown me.
I wonder why my blood heats up with anger. After everything that has happened in the short span of two days, I'm still angry that he keeps choosing her over and over again?
Get a grip, Syd. You're about to leave anyway.
"Is that Georgia? His... his father's widow?" Nicholas is freaking out way more than I am. "Sydney, tell me I’m seeing things."
Georgia pulls back just an inch, her sunglasses sliding down the bridge of her nose. She looks over Deckard’s shoulder, her gaze scanning the room until it lands directly on me.
Her eyes widen with the fakest shock ever. I just know she's seen me in here earlier, before she kissed him. She leans in, tugging at Deckard’s sleeve, pointing toward us, whispering urgently for him to turn around.
She wants the confrontation. Maybe she thinks I'd lose my shit in here and then the world would witness Deckard choose her over me.
But to be honest, I'm bigger than that.
"We should call them out on it," Nicholas is saying, but I've already turned my back and begun walking out of the café.
"No," I whisper. "Let's go."