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“Shit, that sucks.”
It’s not that surprising really. When they wrapped months ago, she told me she didn’t have high hopes for the project.
“Yeah, I guess test audiences felt something was missing in the B plot and they want us to shoot some more scenes to insert into the final cut. Can you believe that?”
“When do you have to go?” I bypass agreeing with her. This happens all the time with movies.
“I have to be there in three days! They’re sending me the sides this afternoon.”
Pushing a hand through my hair, I lean back in my seat. “Well, I can help you run lines tonight.”
“That’d be great, but my bigger problem is now I have to rearrange my meeting with the venue. We were going to go over how to set-up the ballroom!”
I grip the bridge of my nose while she prattles on about all the small decisions she’s yet to finalize for our big day. The thought of what a circus our wedding will be is making my head hurt. I want the marriage. I don't give two shits about the wedding.
“Listen, it’s a bunch of chairs. How hard can it be to put them around tables?”
She sighs.
“What?”
“You just don’t get it. You don’t seem to understand that our wedding might be the event of the entire year.” She honks her horn at someone. “You should see this guy who just cut me off.”
“De-stress a little. We’ll get this handled. We always do.” No need to piss her off about the wedding right when I've figured out a time I can slip away from LA.
“You’re right. Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it,” I say with a small smile. I’m not unused to having to talk Adelaide off the ledge, and it’s easy to do. She always comes around fairly quickly.
“Okay, I’m gonna roll. I have a bunch of calls to make to juggle everything around.”
“All right. See you later.”
She hangs up, and I clutch my phone.
Adelaide flies to Vancouver. I fly to Kansas. This lying thing is becoming too easy.
Chapter Forty-seven
JIMMY
The two-and-half-hour flight felt more like twenty hours.
The private plane touches down. From the looks of it, there’s nothing here. At least the rental I arranged is waiting for me. Money has its perks, because I needed this to be as quiet as possible. If anyone got wind that I’m in Kansas, it would be splattered all over the online gossip channels and I’d have to answer a lot of questions.
The closest airstrip we could land at is twenty minutes away from the small town Lilah now calls home. My stomach rolls over with each passing minute, the fear still consuming me that I’m opening Pandora’s box.
Adelaide is shooting in Canada for at least five days. There was no use in telling her I was leaving town since the pilot is waiting around to fly me back to LA tonight. She won’t know the difference, except when she returns, I’ll be freer.
I punch Lilah’s address into my phone and place it in the console of the rented SUV. Estimated arrival is eighteen minutes.
Never has time felt so short and yet so long.
I take a deep breath and drive out of the airfield.
I have no idea what to expect when I find her and that’s somehow almost as nerve-racking as the idea of seeing her again.
Will she be strung out, living in some dilapidated shack like we both grew up in? Or did she manage to scrape together some sort of life for herself? From the quick glimpse and fuzzy pause on the television, she looked like she did out of rehab. Healthy and happy.
