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“Fine, you’ve made your point.”
Mason jumps up from the couch. “I’ve actually got to get going. Malia and I have a lunch date. You sounded so excited I couldn’t pass up a chance to stop by, though.”
“I’m glad you did.”
“Keep me updated on everything, and good luck with the new part.”
“Thanks, man.”
I walk him to the door and lock it behind him. I wish Mason had told me everything would be okay and that Leila would forgive me and we’d live happily ever after. Since he’s a good friend, he could just say it, even if he knows it might not be true. Maybe what makes him a good friend is that he doesn’t say things like that.
Mason is right, and I have to listen to him. As much as I would love to call Leila again or even show up at her apartment to try and talk, I know that’s not a good idea. She does need time and space from me right now.
Instead, I pull out the script that was sent over. As I’m reading it, someone comes by to pick up the signed contract. Couriers must make a ton of money in Los Angeles. All these directors and stuff love to use them for the secrecy, and I bet they pay a pretty penny to make sure no one else sees this script or gets hold of my contract.
The script is amazing, which is exactly what I was expecting. It’s a fun romcom, similar to the ones I’ve been doing as made-for-TV films, but with a much stronger plot and some really great comedy. I can even see a few spots where I might get to try out my improv skills.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know this movie will delay my getting back into TV, but I’d be crazy to turn down such a great offer and the number of zeroes I’ll end up with after the movie is done. Big-screen movies make big bucks.
The only problem is the leading lady. I don’t know who she’ll be yet, but I can already tell she won’t be anywhere near as amazing as Leila. No one will be.
I have to figure out a way to win her back. I can’t imagine my life without Leila in it. We may have only been dating a short time, but I know I’m in love with her.
I won’t let her go without a fight.
Chapter Thirty-Five - Leila
I fold up the last of my T-shirts and stick it into the middle drawer of the dresser crammed into Abby’s spare bedroom.
I could’ve talked to my parents about moving back into their house until I can find a new apartment in Massachusetts, but that was far too embarrassing. I didn’t even tell them I was officially back until this morning, a week after my flight landed.
Shiloh lies on my bed with his head on my pillow. He still hasn’t forgiven me for flying him across the country. I felt bad having him in a carrier, but I needed to get out of California immediately, and driving across the country again was not in the cards for me. I left my poor car with Malia, who will help me figure out a way to get it home. She’s also babysitting my apartment and helping to sublet it until the lease is up.
A part of me feels guilty for just up and leaving a day after those photos of Spencer kissing Candy showed up on my phone, but I couldn’t stay there anymore. Los Angeles was a dream that didn’t come true for me. Now, I’m right back where I started, living in New England and feeling like I haven’t made any progress at all.
Thankfully, Rebecca has been very understanding. She gave me a week off and said I could come back to Frills East on Monday. She saw the pictures, just like everyone else, and knew I would need a change of scenery.
For the time being, I’ll be managing Frills West remotely. I’m disappointed I couldn’t hack it out there, but what was I supposed to do? Dodge photographers and reporters asking me about Spencer everywhere I go? No, thank you.
It’s bad enough that a few photographers apparently work all over the country. Someone cornered me the other day when I went grocery shopping, stocking up Abby’s fridge since I’m intruding on her personal space. Somewhere out there are photos of me in the produce section being bombarded by some guy asking what happened with Spencer and if he’s dating Candy now.
My stomach turns. I know he’s not with Candy. He would never date her, real or fake. But he still kissed her and decided not to tell me about it before all those photographs came out. He lied to me. A week removed, I doubt the kiss meant anything, but it’s the principle of the thing.
