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hadn’t talked to her in almost a month and it’d begun really wearing on me. I’d finally given in and called my mom, who I knew would gripe me out, which she did for a good twenty minutes. When she’d stopped her ranting, she started crying telling me she was sorry and she wished she could talk some sense into Ellen, but every time she called her to try, El would just tell her it was over. And that just made her cry even harder. And made me feel like shit.
    Dad had gotten on the phone next and told me that he had my back and would do whatever I needed. I wondered for a second if that might include his kidnapping El and bringing her to me, which was ludicrous, I knew, but at the time, it sounded like a plan. But tossing that crazy notion aside, we talked for a bit about playoffs then he returned to the original topic and offered some suggestions on how to woo El. I told him that wooing was a little old fashioned, but he said if it worked for Rick with Ilsa, it would work for anyone. I told him they didn’t get back together which was why Casablanca was one of the saddest movies ever made. He then countered with Scarlett and Rhett, and I reminded him they didn’t end up together either. He finally told me to ignore everything he’d just said and “just send her some goddamned flowers” which made me laugh.
    But I swear, if coming up with ideas to get her back actually worked toward getting her back, I’d have gotten her back right then. She’d have poofed right the hell into my living room rewarding me for all my secret plotting.
    W e hung up, and the silence screamed at me again. I was just about to turn the stereo on to fill the void when there was a knock at my door.
    Can you be semi-pissed and semi-happy at the same time, because that’s what I was when I looked in the peephole , and being so friggin’ starved for company I actually answered it.
    “Hey,” I said when I opened the door.
    “Hey, stranger,” Alessandra purred as she pushed past me and walked inside.
    We’d met in the hallway a couple days before and she’d found out that El had left. I couldn’t tell if she was being genuine when she told me she was sorry, but knowing her, she wasn’t.
    “What’s up?” I asked, watching her sashay her way over to the liquor cabinet, get out a glass and pour herself some bourbon. “Make yourself at home,” I said sarcastically.
    “Oh, I will,” she said turning to me with a wicked grin.
    Now, the woman was beautiful, and no one in their right mind would’ve disputed it, and a lesser man probably would’ve fallen for her bullshit. But I wasn’t that man. I knew what I wanted, and it damned sure wasn’t her, so I wished she’d stop with the flirting, stat.
    “We start filming the last commercial next month,” she said, pushing her lips out into a pout. “I can’t believe it’ll be over after this one.”
    Thank God for small favors.
    “Yep. Time flies when you’re having fun,” I mumbled.
    She frowned as she glanced at me over the top of her glass then said, “Jag, we really owe ourselves to give this a shot, don’t you think?”
    I chuckled. “It’d never work, Alessandra. Three people can’t be in a relationship.”
    She tilted her head to the side. “Three?”
    “Yeah. You, me and your ego.” I smirked hatefully at her knowing I was being a dick but not giving a rat’s ass.
    She rolled her eyes. “Look, you’re single, I’m single. People expect us to be together. Do you know how many fans have told me we’re perfect together? And we are. I’m beautiful and hot, you’re handsome. We just… fit.” She drank down the rest of her liquor setting the glass on the cabinet then walked seductively toward me putting her hand on my chest and leaning into me. “Let’s give it a try.”
    I put my hand on hers, which made her grin, then pulled it off my chest, pushing it back down to her side and letting it go, which now made her frown.
    “Let’s not and say we did. Wait a