Chapter 3
When I got back to the studio, nobody was there.[]
But I still called the police.]
“Miss Emma, I didn’t mean to, Dylan said there were some files he needed to get backup copies from you, I…“[]
“So you just decided to let yourself in?“]
“I texted you but you didn’t reply.“[]
“And? So because I didn’t text back, you thought you could just waltz in? If I hadn’t changed the pass–code, were you planning to go inside and make yourself comfortable?“[]
I stared blankly at Susan, who was about to turn on the waterworks any second.[]
Something felt off though.]
The next second, the mediation room door swung open.[]
Right–Dylan wasn’t here yet. What was she crying for?]
“Dylan,” Susan immediately stood up to explain, “I didn’t mean to. I know miss Emma doesn’t like me, and I was afraid she’d get upset
again, so I took it upon myself to… I really just wanted to get the files, I swear.”
Dylan was still catching his breath.
That studio was originally rented by Dylan and me together. During our broke days, we even slept on air mattresses in there.[]
Later he bought a house, and I got my own little place.[]
But when it came to work, I still preferred being there.
All kinds of materials, letters, scripts, memories from the past–everything crammed in there, wrapping me in the security blanket of “contribution.”
It meant a lot to me.]}
“What’s going on? How did this end up here?“]
Dylan’s tone was accusatory, but his eyes were on me.[]
Susan bit her lip, fighting back tears in the corners of her eyes, her expression one of humiliated embarrassment.
“It’s all my fault, has nothing to do with Miss Emma.“]
The personal assistant who’d followed them in glanced around, then quickly tried to smooth things over with the female officer. “We
all know each other, we all know each other. It’s just a misunderstanding, sorry for the trouble.”
But the officer ignored him and just looked at me.
e.[]
Dylan seized the opportunity to pull me outside, leaning down to speak softly. “No real damage was done. If you want to throw a
tantrum at me, fine, but don’t take it out on her. How could you let it get this far? What if this makes the news?”
“Did you give her the pass–code?“]
His face went stiff. “She did ask me…“]
“You told her to go?”
“Come on, she’s my assistant. There’s nothing wrong with her going to get files. You really want to see her locked up for a few days? How are you gonna explain that to Ms. Parker? And if this hits the news, you’ll be the one dealing with it.“[]
Turns out he didn’t know I was quitting yet.]
“Dylan, do you think you’re being fair right now? Do you have any shame? You think I’m giving her a hard time just to mess with you? She tried to break into my place without permission, I called the cops, and somehow I’m the bad guy? You think she’s the victim here?“[]
“Dylan, it’s my fault,” Susan sobbed at the doorway. “Miss Emma, I’ll apologize however you want, pay whatever you want, but can we please handle this privately? Please, I’m begging you.“[]
Her whole act just pissed me off even more.
re.]
“O
But before I could say anything, Dylan waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t push it. That studio is under my name.‘
Then he went inside to wrap things up.
Right. I’d forgotten–when we bought the studio, it was put under his name.
I’d just been using it so long, I’d forgotten.[]
“Let’s go, the car’s outside.” Dylan positioned himself between me and Susan, pointing toward the van parked outside.[]
“No thanks. Too crowded for my taste.”
I walked toward the exit.[]
“Isn’t that the actor Dylan Cross? I heard he has a longtime girlfriend, which one is she?“[||
“Probably the one inside? The one outside looks pissed as hell.“]
“Good point.”
Some bystanders were gossiping, though I couldn’t tell which side they were on.[]
