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One Month Later
“You know we have to do this, right?” Noah asked, handing me a bottle of water and sitting beside me.
We were in yet another hotel, this time in Paris. The film festival would start in four days, and we had so much to do. That started with picking a new manager. Tonight, we only had an hour or two before we had to get to work.
“Yeah, I know. I just feel like we aren’t going to like anyone,” she said, frowning as she twisted the bottle open. “Before Austin—before he died, he told me there would always be great managers, but that there are very few actors worth working for. But I don’t want to think anyone could replace him.”
“I know.” I felt the same. But I had also made a promise to him. “He worked this hard to get us here. If we let it crumble, it’s all in vain, and I can’t accept that, either.”
“Fine, bring them in,” she waved over to Daniel, who walked outside.
“Try to have an open mind? We need hurry up and get this over with,” I said her when the door opened and a woman with red hair, wearing a tight black dress and yellow heels, stepped inside.
“Next,” Amelia said immediately. The woman froze and glanced over to Daniel, who smiled politely. “Thank you from for coming.”
“What was that?” I asked when the woman turned around and stomped out.
“Me hurrying though this,” she said casually.
“I said be open. She didn’t even get a word in.”
“Noah, how long have we been doing this? We should at least be able to spot managers we don’t want at a glance by now.”
“And you’re basing on this what, exactly? Because you kind of looked jealous for a second,” I said. Which turned me on for some reason.
“You wish,” she said, crossing her arms. “Her dress. I could see she hadn’t removed the tag, which means she’s not confident. She’s wearing brand new heels, too, which means she is also not practical, because even though she looked nice, I could still tell she couldn’t wait to get out of them. We don’t need a manager who is not confident or practical.”
“I would have preferred if you were jealous,” I said, trying to fight back a smile. She was healing. We both were.
“Where are you going?” she asked when I stood up, kissing her forehead.
“To take a shower while you use your Nancy Drew powers to get us a manager,” I replied, heading to the bedroom.
“This was your idea.”
“Yeah, and you’re better for it. If you decide you want to, feel free to join me afterward.” I winked at her and closed the door behind me.
Grabbing my bag, I walked into the bathroom, rubbing the side of my face, I didn’t want to shave, but … no, screw it. I was keeping the scruff. Reaching into the bag for my toothbrush, I saw the pill bottle.
I stared at it for a long time before opening it and pouring the contents into the toilet. I had nothing left to be anxious over.
Amelia
“Did you find anyone?” Noah asked, coming out of the bedroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist and drying his hair with a hand towel.
And I just stood there.
“Amelia?” He frowned, looking me over, his eyes finally pausing when he got to the letter in my hand. “What is—?”
“Austin’s lawyer had this sent over. He donated everything to a women’s shelter back in Chicago, but he left you this.”
He didn’t come any closer. He didn’t speak he just stared at it.
“Do you want me to read it?” I asked.
“Please,” he said softly, nodding.
Biting my lip, I broke the seal carefully, pulling out the letter. Noah gripped the chair in front him.
