Chapter 470 - Unblock

Chapter 470: Chapter 470 - Unblock

"So you want me to get more viewers without spending anything on promotion?"

Roxie sat at the kitchen counter, pressing her phone against her ear while staring at the analytics report on her laptop. She’d been having the same argument with Graham Voss for almost fifteen minutes, and her patience was getting dangerously thin.

"We’ve already provided a production budget, Roxie. What we’re discussing is your program’s performance."

"Yes, and I’m explaining that people need to know the show exists before they can watch it. You’ve promoted my first episode twice, Graham. Twice! One of those posts didn’t even have a proper description."

"We expect you to take a more active role in expanding your audience. Your next episode needs to generate stronger engagement, preferably with a recognizable guest."

Roxie closed her eyes. She’d spent nearly two weeks preparing for her first celebrity interview, and despite being pleased with the finished product, the video had barely reached four thousand views.

Her producer kept assuring her that building an audience took time. Graham, unfortunately, seemed determined to prove otherwise.

"Then approve my request for additional promotional funding. My producer and I have already contacted more than twenty publicists, and half of them haven’t responded."

"Additional investment will depend on the program demonstrating growth. We expect you to be resourceful."

God, she was beginning to hate that word.

"Right. I’ll call Hollywood and ask who’s available. Maybe someone will agree to appear out of the kindness of their heart."

"There’s no need for sarcasm, Roxie. We’ll review your progress after the next release. Enjoy the rest of your afternoon."

The call ended before she could answer.

Roxie stared at her phone, then placed it facedown on the counter.

"That fucking asshole!"

Angela looked up from the bowl of cookie dough she’d been mixing.

"Which one? We need to start numbering them."

"Graham Voss. Apparently, four thousand views are a national emergency, and I’m supposed to convince some famous celebrity to appear on my show while he refuses to spend another dollar promoting it."

Angela considered that while scraping dough from the side of the bowl.

"Have you tried paying for views?"

"Angela, we’ve discussed this!"

"I’m talking about advertising! Why do you always assume I’m suggesting something illegal?"

"Because the last time we discussed it, you specifically suggested fake views!"

"That was before you rejected my idea. I’ve moved on to better solutions."

Karen laughed as she handed Angela the measuring cup she’d been looking for. All three women had the day off, and Angela had decided they were going to spend the afternoon baking cookies. Karen was helping her prepare the ingredients, while Roxie had claimed a stool at the kitchen counter and volunteered to taste everything.

So far, she’d contributed absolutely nothing to the baking process.

"Can I have some chocolate chips?" Roxie asked, reaching toward the open bag.

Angela moved it away.

"You’ve already eaten enough. Diet, remember?"

"Ugh. You suck."

"Love you, too. Now let me finish these before you eat all the ingredients."

Roxie returned to her laptop, leaving the two women to argue over how much vanilla Angela had poured into the mixture.

She’d prepared several guest profiles for her upcoming interviews. Unfortunately, most of the recognizable celebrities on her list had declined or were still waiting to respond.

One particular name remained near the top.

Zac Prescott.

She quickly scrolled past it.

God, she hated that man.

"So," Angela said, dropping another spoonful of dough onto the baking tray, "how was your little football adventure yesterday?"

"Fine. I got everything I needed for my report, and I actually understood most of what the players were talking about. I consider that a personal achievement."

Karen smiled. "See? You’re adjusting."

"I’m trying. Although I’ve discovered football players are just as talented as politicians at talking for five minutes without answering a question."

Angela laughed before turning toward her again.

"And Zac? How was he?"

Roxie’s fingers stopped over the keyboard.

Of course. She should have known the conversation would eventually get there.

"He answered questions about the upcoming season, and everybody seemed thrilled to be in the same room as him. Apparently, journalists have been trying to get an exclusive interview with him for months."

"Well, look at him," Angela replied. "Have you seen those arms lately? Because I have several questions."

Roxie slowly raised her head.

"Wait. You like Zac now?"

Angela glanced at Karen, then shrugged.

"Well, you like him now, so I don’t have much choice."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"I’m being practical, Roxie. When you hated him, I hated him. Now you’re acting weird whenever somebody mentions him, so I’m reconsidering my position."

Karen burst out laughing.

Roxie stared at Angela. "You spent years rolling your eyes whenever somebody mentioned Zac. You even refused to watch his games in college because you were still angry about our breakup!"

"Exactly! I was a very supportive friend. You were crying over him, calling him every horrible name you could think of. What was I supposed to do, defend his honor?"

"So you were pretending?"

"Excuse me? I was very sincere about hating him. I spent an entire summer insulting that man, and I didn’t even know what half your arguments were about."

Karen laughed harder, nearly dropping the measuring cup.

Angela pointed her spoon toward Roxie.

"That’s what friendship is. If your best friend hates her ex, you hate him too. You don’t sit there telling her how attractive he is while she’s crying over him."

"And now you’re suddenly appreciating his arms?"

"Have you seen him lately?"

"Angela!"

"What? He’s six foot four, ridiculously rich, and built like he lives in a gym. I’m allowed to acknowledge that he’s attractive!"

Roxie shook her head, wondering how a simple question had turned into Angela defending her right to admire Zac Prescott.

Karen was still laughing.

"To be fair, Angela did take the breakup personally. I remember her threatening to throw something at Zac if he ever showed up."

"A chair," Angela clarified. "I threatened to throw a chair."

"Very mature," Roxie muttered.

"Thank you. And that’s exactly why I’m being careful this time. I don’t want to spend another ten years insulting somebody you might end up dating again."

Roxie nearly choked on her coffee.

"Who said anything about dating him?"

"Nobody. I’m considering the possibility."

"Consider something else!"

Angela returned to the cookie dough, looking entirely pleased with herself.

"Look, you spent four days in Italy with him, and you’ve barely told us anything. Every time we mention Zac, you get defensive. Then you start asking why I’m suddenly being nice to him. What am I supposed to think?"

"That I don’t want to spend every afternoon discussing my ex-boyfriend?"

"That’s a reasonable explanation," Karen admitted.

"Thank you!"

"But you’re unusually sensitive whenever his name comes up."

Roxie stared at her.

"Oh, you’re joining her now?"

Karen shrugged, smiling. "I’m just observing."

Roxie wanted to throw a chocolate chip at both of them.

The problem was that Angela wasn’t entirely wrong. Roxie had been avoiding conversations about Zac since they returned from Italy. There were things she wanted to keep private, particularly what happened between them after Kendall’s wedding.

And the more Angela questioned her, the harder it became to behave normally.

"Well, congratulations to both of you," she muttered. "You’ve successfully turned my day off into another interrogation."

Angela laughed and handed the finished baking tray to Karen.

"Relax. I’m only trying to avoid future problems. Imagine you two get back together and he finds out I’ve spent the last ten years calling him an arrogant asshole. How am I supposed to sit across from him at dinner?"

"He’s not coming over for dinner, Angela."

"Fine. Breakfast, then."

Karen laughed so hard she had to set the tray down.

"God, I hate you," Roxie told her.

"See? Now you hate me too. I really can’t win today."

While the first batch baked, Karen started telling them about a business project Mason had mentioned during their dinner earlier.

Roxie immediately became interested.

"So, how’s that little business arrangement going? You’ve been talking to Mason quite a lot lately."

Karen glanced at her.

"It’s going fine. He’s introducing me to a few people who might be useful for the project."

"How generous of him," Angela said. "Does he usually arrange business meetings at eleven at night?"

Karen stopped wiping the counter.

"How do you know what time we talk?"

"Because you were smiling at your phone when I came out for water," Roxie answered.

Angela grinned.

"Oh, really? That sounds very professional."

Karen pointed the dish towel at them.

"Both of you are being ridiculous. Mason has connections in Manhattan."

"That’s wonderful," Roxie said. "I’m sure he’s thinking about the finance every time he sends you a message."

Karen shook her head, although she was smiling.

"Keep talking, Roxie. I remember every single one of your terrible college dates."

Roxie immediately raised her hands.

"Fine. Truce."

Angela looked disappointed.

"You’re ruining my entertainment."

Karen laughed, then turned toward Roxie with a more serious expression.

"Actually, since we’re already talking about the boys, can I say something?"

Roxie groaned. "Please tell me this isn’t about Zac again."

"Just be careful around him, okay? I know we’re joking, but I remember how badly things ended between you two."

"Karen, we’re twenty-eight. We’re perfectly capable of being in the same room without falling in love again."

"I know how old we are, Roxie. I also remember you nearly going crazy waiting for him to come."

Roxie’s smile faded.

Angela became quiet, busying herself with cleaning the mixing bowl.

Roxie lowered her gaze to the coffee in front of her.

God, she hated remembering that.

After the breakup, she’d spent weeks convincing herself Zac would eventually show up in New York. She’d imagined him standing outside her apartment, furious and miserable, demanding that they talk.

And yes, she knew how ridiculous that sound. She was the one who broke up with him and left him yet she still waited.

She’d rehearsed arguments, planned everything she wanted to say, and occasionally imagined refusing to open the door just to make him understand how badly he’d hurt her.

Except he never came.

Eventually, waiting for him became more painful than accepting that he also let her go.

"Karen, I was eighteen," she said, rubbing her forehead. "I had my heart broken. People cry when relationships end, and eventually they move on. That’s exactly what I did."

"I know. I’m only saying that you suffered more than you admitted, and I’d hate to see you go through that again."

Roxie looked at her friend.

She understood the concern. Karen had been there during some of the worst months of her life, and she’d seen the embarrassing things Roxie did while trying to convince herself that Zac would return.

But ten years had passed.

She’d built a successful career, dated other men, and learned how to live without expecting a certain quarterback to show up at her door.

Whatever happened in Italy didn’t change those things.

"I appreciate the concern," she answered. "But I’m perfectly happy with my life. I’ve got a career to worry about and a boss who’s determined to make me miserable. Zac Prescott is the least of my problems."

Karen studied her for another moment before nodding.

"All right. I just wanted to say it."

Angela leaned against the counter.

"Personally, I’m very happy with my life too. I have my friends, my freedom, and absolutely no interest in dating a six-foot-four headache."

Roxie burst out laughing.

"You’ve been complimenting him for the past half hour!"

"I said he’s attractive. I never said I wanted to deal with his personality."

Karen shook her head.

"He was pretty bossy in high school."

"Believe me, he still is," Roxie muttered.

Both women looked at her.

Fuck.

Angela’s grin returned.

"Oh, really?"

Roxie pointed at her laptop.

"I interviewed him yesterday. That’s how I know. Can we please move on before you start having delusions?"

Angela laughed, then glanced toward Roxie’s screen.

"Speaking of interviews, why don’t you ask Zac to appear on your YouTube show?"

Roxie stopped reaching for her coffee.

"What?"

"You need a celebrity. Zac’s famous, and you already know him. Seems pretty obvious to me."

Karen nodded thoughtfully.

"Actually, that could work. Mason mentioned how rarely Zac agrees to personal interviews. Getting an exclusive would attract a lot of attention."

Roxie stared at them.

Oh, wonderful.

They’d somehow managed to arrive at the exact problem she’d spent the past two days trying to solve.

"You think I can just walk up to Zac Prescott and demand an hour of his time?"

Angela shrugged.

"You used to demand his time every five minutes in high school."

"That was ten years ago!"

"So? You’re an award-winning journalist now. You can interview politicians, executives, and people accused of serious crimes, but suddenly asking your ex-boyfriend a few questions is impossible?"

"It’s complicated, Angela."

"Why? You keep telling us you’ve moved on. If that’s true, sitting across from him for an interview should be easy."

Roxie opened her mouth, ready to argue, but the explanation she wanted to give would only create more questions.

Because the last time she’d been alone with Zac, he’d accused her of moving on too easily? Because she was still furious about the way he’d treated her in Italy?

Or because she couldn’t stand the thought of needing something from him?

Angela watched her hesitation with growing amusement.

"See? This is exactly why I’m worried. You’re acting like asking him for an interview is going to ruin your life."

"Oh, for fuck’s sake! Fine, I’ll interview him!"

Karen laughed.

"Roxie, nobody’s forcing you."

"No, apparently I have to prove to you two that I can spend an hour with Zac Prescott without falling in love with him!"

Angela grinned.

"Well, now I really want to watch."

"That’s the entire point of having a show, Angela!"

By late afternoon, the kitchen smelled of freshly baked cookies. Angela was preparing another batch while Karen helped clean up the ingredients, and Roxie had settled comfortably at the counter with a plate of cookies beside her laptop.

She’d already eaten four.

Angela had noticed two.

A personal achievement.

Their conversation had moved on to work, mutual friends, and the ridiculous photographs Kendall kept sending from her honeymoon. Roxie laughed along, occasionally stealing another cookie when Angela turned around.

God, she’d missed afternoons like this. Their schedules rarely allowed all three of them to spend an entire day together, and after everything that had happened at Crestline, she was grateful to have a few hours with her friends.

Unfortunately, the problem she’d been avoiding was still sitting on her laptop.

Potential Guest: Zac Prescott.

She’d prepared the interview proposal, researched his professional career, and drafted a list of questions covering football, his business investments, and the upcoming season.

Everything was ready except contacting him.

And thanks to Angela’s ridiculous challenge, she’d practically announced she was going to do exactly that.

She glanced toward her friends.

Neither woman knew Zac had already instructed his representative to tell her to contact him personally.

God, imagine their reactions.

Angela would start making wedding jokes again, and Karen would probably demand a detailed explanation of what happened in Italy.

Roxie considered asking Mason for Zac’s current number. He’d certainly have it, but he’d also become suspiciously close to Karen. She could already imagine him asking why she wanted it, then mentioning the conversation during their next late-night business discussion.

Absolutely not.

She could contact Zac’s representative again, but she’d already pretended to have his number.

How embarrassing would it be to call the man and admit she’d blocked his client ten years ago?

"What’s wrong now?" Angela asked, looking up from the counter.

"Nothing. I’m working."

"You’ve been staring at the same page forever. Are you planning to hypnotize the celebrities into accepting your invitations?"

"I’m trying to think, Angela. You should give it a try sometime."

Karen laughed.

Angela pressed a hand against her chest.

"Wow. I bake cookies for this woman, and this is the thanks I get."

"Very delicious cookies," Roxie admitted, reaching for another.

Angela immediately moved the plate away.

"Five is enough!"

"You’re counting?"

"Somebody has to!"

Roxie laughed and picked up her phone instead.

There was one thing she could check.

His old number.

She’d blocked it ten years ago, but perhaps it was still somewhere in her phone.

She opened her contacts and searched his name. Nothing appeared, which hardly surprised her. She’d deleted Zac’s contact along with their photographs and messages after the breakup.

Then she opened the list of blocked numbers.

She scrolled past unfamiliar callers, old contacts she’d forgotten about, and several numbers she barely recognized.

Her thumb stopped.

Zac Prescott.

For a moment, she simply stared.

God.

Ten years.

She remembered sitting in her apartment with her phone resting on her lap, exhausted from crying and furious with herself for continuing to expect him to call.

She’d wanted to hear his voice so badly that every unfamiliar number made her heart race. She’d imagined him apologizing, asking to see her, or finally telling her they needed to talk.

But the calls she’d been waiting for never came.

Eventually, she’d blocked his number because she couldn’t stand waiting anymore.

Even then, she’d hesitated.

What if he called tomorrow? What if he finally decided to come back?

She’d pressed the button anyway.

Now, ten years later, she was considering undoing it because she needed a fucking interview.

"Rox? Want another cookie?" Karen asked.

"In a minute."

Roxie glanced toward the kitchen, where Angela was complaining that Karen had added too many chocolate chips to the second batch.

Neither woman was paying attention to her.

She looked at Zac’s name again, feeling an unpleasant tightness in her chest.

The last time she’d stared at this number, she’d been desperate for him to contact her.

Now she was the one who needed to reach him, and she hated how nervous that made her.

Roxie held her phone a little closer, her thumb hovering over the screen.

Then she pressed Unblock.