Mia Thompson: April 25, 2013
What the hell is going on with Jonathan? Sometimes I don’t have a clue what is going on in that head of his. I thought that this PR ploy to have us seen together in public would be the perfect opportunity to start up a friends-with-benefits between us. Why not? Neither of us is seeing anyone right now and it would definitely be beneficial. But last weekend, when we pulled up to the valet station at the Hotel Freemont and I told the attendant that we wouldn't need the car until the morning, Jonathan said, “She’s joking. We just came for dinner—two, three hours max.”
Then, as he handed the valet a large bill, he leaned in and whispered in my ear, “Just dinner, Mia. That’s all I need. There’s no need to put on an elaborate show. Last weekend’s press was probably enough and tonight is just to seal it. We don’t have to pretend to spend the night together.”
The camera flashes sprayed us as he slipped his arm around my waist and we posed on the sidewalk for a very short minute. I understand his hate of the paparazzi, but they are a necessary entity. If you’re not good enough for the vultures, then you won’t carry a film and you won’t get the big roles.
My hotel room surprise was meant to inspire and any other male would have jumped at the offer, so I opened the conversation again, just in case he didn't understand. “Pretend? I wasn't pretending. I already booked the room, lover-boy.” I kissed his cheek to elicit a photo frenzy before we stepped through the door, and he chuckled.
“Now the press will say we’re getting married. Either I’m gay or engaged. There’s no in between.”
“I can vouch for you. Just give me your permission to share,” I said and he chuckled again. “Or we could just leak a video of us using the room I booked.” I knew I could get him to smile. Damn, I love that dimple of his. Why did we break up?
The rest of the night was more platonic than I would admit to anyone. We caught up on each other’s families and I showed him my mother’s “tell all” article in the rags. She’s such a bitch. We ran into a couple of people we both knew and shared some drinks. But Jonathan seemed a bit distracted all night, like his mind was elsewhere and we left without using the room.
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