Chapter 51 Hollywood Drama
Chapter 51 Hollywood Drama
Maya
“Be careful not to cut yourself,” Michael—one of the employees at the restaurant where I worked—said with a wink.
I gave him a weak smile as he moved past me.
I was juggling two jobs alongside my chef training, and good Lord, it was exhausting. But I had to make ends meet—and since it wouldn’t be just me anymore, I needed to save as much as I could.
Shay and her girlfriend checked in on me every day. Even though I kept telling them I was fine, they didn’t believe me.
So I’d learned to let them do their thing.
Michael was the head cook at the restaurant. I didn’t serve customers; I worked in the kitchen.
“How’s that going, pretty lady?” he asked, stopping beside me and eyeing the onion I was cutting.
I shrugged, pressing my lips together.
“It’s making my eyes watery, and I’m surprised I haven’t cut myself yet,” I muttered.
He grinned and leaned against the wooden counter.
“You’re doing good. Just a couple more and you’ll be done.”
I hummed.
Silence settled between us for a few minutes which was awkward —considering the fact that he’s watching me.
“Hm,” he hummed eventually.
I shot him a tired look. “Hm what?”
He chuckled, running a hand through his hair. It reminded me of someone—but instead of the tightness I usually felt, I felt hollow.
And that scared me.
“Nothing,” he said. “You’re just putting on a little weight, and honestly? It looks good on you.”
My movements slowed.
I wasn’t far along—barely two months—so I wasn’t showing yet. No one knew I was pregnant except Shay and Marie.
“Well… thank you,” I muttered, shifting uncomfortably.
“Um,” he started, hesitating, “would you maybe want to grab dinner sometime?”
I looked at him. He shook his head and laughed nervously.
“It doesn’t have to be today. Anytime is fine.”
I sighed.
We’d gone over this before. Unfortunately, he didn’t take no easily.
“I’ve told you, Mike,” I exhaled.
“I know,” he said, rubbing his face before stepping closer and lowering his voice.
“Is it me? You don’t find me attractive, or—”
“No,” I cut in quickly. “It’s not that. I just… I just got out of a relationship. A bad breakup.”
Was it even a relationship? A breakup?
We’d had sex a few times. It was casual. I was just stupid enough to catch feelings.
“Oh,” he muttered.
“Eight years,” I added.
His expression softened immediately.
“Oh my God. I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”
I nodded.
Thinking about it now, they were probably already married—or close enough. Tom and Jenny.
And Jenny would be thrilled that I was miserable. She always was.
She was never really my sister anyway.
I didn’t even know who I was.
“Yeah. It’s fine.”
“We can still be friends, though,” he offered carefully. “If that’s okay with you.”
I gave a small smile. “Yeah. Sure.”
Just then, a few waitresses walked in, whispering excitedly. I frowned.
“Is something going on?” I asked, watching them pass. “They seem… excited.”
“Give me a minute,” Michael said, pushing off the counter and heading toward them.
I finished cutting the onions, dropped them into a bowl, washed my hands, and removed my apron.
The restaurant was technically closed, though some staff had stayed back. I wasn’t one of them.
I needed rest. I had an early shift at the coffee shop.
Michael returned a moment later, arms crossed.
“The fuss is about some actor pulling out of his agency uptown,” he said.
I hummed, folding my apron carefully.
“You might’ve heard of him.”
My heart skipped—but I kept my face neutral.
“Oh?”
“Yeah,” he chuckled. “You don’t exactly strike me as the movie-watching type.”
I swallowed.
“Does this actor have a name?” I asked quietly.
“Liam something,” he shrugged.
My heart dropped.
“They said he held a press conference and pulled out of his agency,” he scoffed.
“Hollywood drama.”
He shook his head and started cleaning up.
I stood frozen—like I’d seen a ghost.
“Hey,” Michael said. “You okay?”
I nodded, snapping out of it.
I’d changed my number. Stayed off social media. Avoided anything about him.
I was supposed to be moving on.
That was definitely going to change tonight.