Page 84 of Unscripted with Mila

Ten minutes later, Mila and Carmen headed out the door, casually strolling, ignoring the muffled shouts I could hear. Mila wore one of the simple uniforms Manny had loaned her. She’d put her hair up under a bandanna and donned a pair of glasses she’d borrowed from the lost and found. She didn’t appear upset or worried, instead offering me a mischievous smile and a fast kiss.

“See you at the hotel.”

I watched anxiously as she and Carmen walked through the throng of photographers. They threw questions and yelled at the girls, but neither reacted, although Carmen flipped them the bird once. Then they got in Carmen’s car and drove off.

“Jesus,” I breathed out. “It worked.”

“Your woman is clever. Cool under pressure too.”

She had been cool. She hadn’t panicked like I had or gotten mad. And she hadn’t passed out. She simply came up with an idea and went with it. Now I had to do the same.

“I’ll wait fifteen minutes and head out.”

Manny handed me a bag. “This has her dress. I put a towel around it and some food on top so it looks like you’re taking a doggie bag. They’ll think you ate here alone.” He grinned. “No story.”

“Perfect.”

I drank a cup of coffee, then texted Mila. Except her phone chirped from inside the bag, and I realized she’d left her purse behind. With her phone. Now I couldn’t get hold of her. My anxiety crept up a little, but I pushed it down and got ready to head out.

“Go through the back. There are fewer of them,” Manny advised. “I told them I was calling the cops, so some left.”

I squared my shoulders. “Okay. I’m out.”

I walked out the back door and headed to my car. Some had moved across the street, but the real assholes, the ones who liked to give me a hard time, came closer, ignoring Manny’s threats of trespassing. There were shouts and flashes as the throng descended, yelling and trying to get me to react.

Where’s your date?

How much have you had to drink, Nick?

Should you be driving?

Who were you meeting?

What are you working on?

Why are you hiding?

The one group I detested more than anything were a little more personal.

Here to get some drugs, Nick?

How long until your next stint in rehab?

What? Food and a fast fuck and you’re off?

What’s in the bag? Alcohol for later?

I wanted to shout back something equally as rude, like, “No! Your mother’s underwear I took as a souvenir.” It would amuse Mila when I told her later, but I knew better than to engage.

I got to the car and slid inside, gunning the engine and pulling out of the parking lot as quickly as I could. I shielded my eyes from the flashes and kept the car moving forward, grateful I didn’t hit any of them. I wouldn’t have minded running some of them over, but I really just wanted to get to the hotel and make sure Mila was okay. It upset me that she didn’t have a phone. What if she got into some trouble? My heart raced at the thought.

Finally out of the lot, I floored it and drove away, looking in my rearview to see a couple cars coming after me. I headed toward the highway, determined to lose them. Or at least get back to the hotel before they had a chance to descend again.

I managed to beat them, and security opened the gate quickly for me. I hopped from the car, feeling my anxiety growing. MJ hadn’t answered her phone, coward that she was, and my scathing voice message would let her know she’d crossed the line this time. The front desk informed me they hadn’t seen Mila, and there was no answer in the suite. The elevator took forever, and I pounded on her door, turning when Andi called to me from across the hall. “Nicholas?”

“Where is she?”

Andi looked confused. “Isn’t she with you?”