Common Knowledge

Chapter 36

Yesterday's update ran a little short. So I decided not to keep you waiting and post the next update right away.

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Thirty-Six

"Well Bliss, it's done," I told myself once I had sent my let's-keep-things-professional- between-us e-mail to Harry, "there's no need to think about it anymore."

It has been known I excel at giving myself great, sensible, wise advice. Sadly, it has also been known that I'm rubbish when it comes to taking said self-inflicted advice.

That's the reason why after having sent the e-mail to my ex-boyfriend -and let's not forget- still my current boss, I remained fixed on the bus seat, frozen, staring at my laptop screen.

Let's get one thing out of the way. I feel like I have to let you in on a little secret about me. In this day and age, I don't use my mobile phone for e-mail.

There I said it.

Of course, I go through my e-mail on my phone. Is fast and efficient.

But when it comes to composing and reading important e-mails, which require careful consideration, I find I think better when facing the computer screen. The feel of the keyboards under my fingers has a calming effect on me.

And since we are in a sharing secrets mood, I might as well tell you here, I was starting to feel a tiny bit of regret. Maybe I had been too harsh. Maybe I shouldn't have cut things off with Harry in the romantic department so quickly. There was always the possibility that a perfectly reasonable explanation for the kiss I had witnessed existed.

I knew the woman Harry had kissed in his dressing room, back in LA was Camille Rowe. If you believed the tabloids, they were supposed to be dating. Some had gone so far as to say she was his girlfriend. I knew this because of course after the story of Harry and Camille broke out, I had carefully studied every photo they had printed, and committed the details to memory (Not that I am a stalker kind of fan, mind you.) That was before Harry had hired me, so it's not as weird as it sounds.

Besides my keen sense of observation, I had also identified the blonde because whilst I was trying to close the door to Harry's dressing room in The Greek Theater, I heard him whisper "Oh, Camille."

I'm not really able to tell you how long I sat there, waiting for something to happen. I really have not gotten around to timing my freak out moments, as tempting as that sounds.

I just remained on my allotted bus space waiting for something. I cannot tell you exactly what I was expecting. My life had gotten so strange ever since The Duck ran away on our wedding day. The phone call from Jeff's assistant; my meeting with Harry at his London house; being hired to blog his tour; traveling to Manchester, meeting some of his close friends and his family; staying in Harry's London house; nursing him through a surgery (a minor medical procedure, granted. But it still counts); going to America; touring with him. And certainly, there was also that moment of him getting cozy with a supermodel backstage.

I felt both utterly tired and on edge. I wanted to sleep forever, but I knew the minute I got into bed the adrenaline of the past day's events would keep me awake.

Up to this moment, things had always been very harmonious between Harry and me. We seemed to be always on the same page. We had never fought or had a disagreement. The uncertainty of this new situation was taking its toll on me.