It was no worse than he’d expected, really.
Too late to remove you from the show,blah blah blah.Consulting with our lawyers about legal and financial consequences,blah blah blah.As the public now knows, you’re an embarrassment to your profession,blah blah blah.Not welcome at the convention or future publicity events,blah blah blah.
It was the last bit that jolted him from the cozy depths of the armchair.
As you’ve defamed us and our show, we are no longer interested in helping you. Thus, Lauren is fired, as she should be after such gross incompetence. Also, we have ceased paying for your virtual PA as of this evening. If you want her continued assistance, you’ll have to shoulder her hourly rate yourself.
Thegross incompetencepart set his teeth on edge, but there was something else niggling in his brain, some sort of idea …
Yes. There it was.
For the first time in two hours, the pounding in his skull eased, because he could see a possible path forward again. One he could actually live with.
Surging to his feet, he strode into his bedroom and slammed his still-open suitcase closed again, then zipped it shut. He tossed it onto the bed, then reached for his phone and ordered a ride to the airport. Next step: an airline ticket back to L.A.
When Alex began scrolling through possible flights, Marcus cleared his throat. “Care to tell me what’s happening?”
Whatever. The car ride to the airport would give him time to buy a ticket.
“Take a look at my inbox.” He tossed his phone to Marcus. “I’m no longer welcome at the convention, and all the relevant conversations with my team are happening over phone and email, so there’s no point in staying. I might as well go home.”
Using a text-to-speech app, Marcus listened to the showrunners’ message.
Once the entire vitriolic email had been read aloud, he glanced up at Alex. “You’re going back to L.A. tonight?”
Alex inclined his head. “If I can catch a plane, I’ll fly. If not, I’ll rent a car.”
“You’re going after Lauren,” Marcus said neutrally.
He managed a hoarse laugh. “Of course I am.”
And when he caught up with her, he was going to do his damnedest to convince her to stay with him, because he wasn’t ready to say goodbye. Not now.
Recently, he’d begun to wonder whether he’deverwant to say goodbye. Whether he’d ever be willing to miss one of her rare, piercing smiles. Whether he could ever happily live without her deadpan comebacks, her gentleness, or the way her snarky tees molded against her small breasts and the curve of her soft belly.
Maybe Lauren still thought they were simply minder-and-charge, or platonic friends, but he knew better now. He’d known better ever since that temptation-soaked near-kiss in his car.
“I have to go,” he told Marcus. “My driver should be here in about five minutes, and making my way through the lobby will take a while.”
Marcus’s sharp stare could have peeled grapes, but Alex didn’t flinch.
Finally, his best friend sighed. “I’ll run interference. Let’s go.”
They finally managed to reach the hotel entrance just as the car pulled into the circular drive. Alex half tackled Marcus in a hug, then flung himself inside the SUV, slammed the door, and fastened his seat belt as quickly as possible.
“To the airport?” the driver asked, her gray hair in a coronet of braids.
“To the airport,” Alex confirmed. “As quickly as possible. I’ll double the fare if you get me there in time for a flight at ten.”
“You got it.” Her foot stamped on the accelerator, and the SUV jolted around the circle and onto the streets of San Francisco.
He bought his ticket for that late-night flight as they wove through traffic and streaked along straightaways, then managed to send Marcus a quick message of reassurance despite the rough ride.
Going to fix this. Don’t worry.
He wasn’t talking about his career. But his best friend likely knew that already.
ALEX SHOWED UPat her duplex just before one in the morning. Which was only appropriate, since they’d often gone for their nightly walks around that same time.
