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“I just wanted to update you really quick before I have to take a conference call in the other room.”
“Oh, okay,” Brooke says, nodding.
“We’ve got quite a few more interviews to get through here in the next couple of hours, and then, Brooke, I’ve taken the liberty of setting up a meeting for you and me with our CEO,” the female executive updates. “He’s eager to meet you for dinner tonight and even had his assistant book you a hotel room right by the restaurant so you don’t have to worry about traveling back and forth to the, um…motor home. Your glam squad will meet you in your hotel first thing tomorrow morning to start getting you ready for the premiere. And I’ll have my assistant send you all the details via email, okay?” She squeezes Brooke’s shoulder gently. “Can’t wait to see you at dinner tonight.”
Brooke doesn’t even get a chance to respond before the woman swiftly walks away.
So much for being alone tonight.
Brooke turns to me, her face sunken like I imagine is the unmasked version of my own. Still, I recover quickly before she can catch it.
Having dinner with the CEO of Netflix and going to the premiere for a series based on her books are once-in-a-lifetime opportunities. It’s why she’s here. If I have anything to say about it, I’m going to be around for a while, so no matter how badly I want and need a night where I have her all to myself, our plans can wait.
Brooke needs to go, and she needs to do it without worrying about me. She needs to do it and be there to experience it all in a way that lets her witness and enjoy the fruits of her labor and talent.
“It sounds terrific, Brooke.” I smile and then inconspicuously lean forward to whisper into her ear, “And don’t worry, I promise our plans will wait.”
Brooke leans back to meet my eyes, and her smile is grateful and sad at the same time. Seeing her sad isn’t something I ever thought I’d be happy about, but right now, it’s the balm to every drop of uncertainty I need.
Brooke Baker and I want each other enough to wait. A couple days, tops.
Thursday, June 1st
Brooke
I am in a fancy LA hotel room surrounded by ten other women, here to help me get ready for the big red-carpet premiere of The Shadow Brothers. Holy, holy hell.
Needless to say, I’m anxious, and my current indecision is showcasing that fact.
I pick up both bottles of nail polish again, considering them carefully with a purse of my lips consistent with Miranda Priestly.
It’s a big decision, although I’m fairly certain it shouldn’t be this earth-shattering, and the manicurist just barely stops herself from rolling her eyes at me. I can feel it.
“I swear I’m not normally this annoying. Truly. I just can’t decide what’s going to look best on the red carpet because I’ve never been on a red carpet or even on any red-hued floor at all, you know?”
Becky’s stern frown melts, and she takes one of the bottles from my hand with ease, holding it up in front of me. “This one.”
I sigh, relieved. “Bless you, Becky. Bless you.”
She goes to work polishing the light pink color on, while another woman starts working on my hair. In the corner of the room, a pretty blonde steams my dress, holding it up to the light of the hotel window to ensure she’s getting all the wrinkles out of the delicate silk fabric.
I’m both grateful and horribly out of place, and I wish so badly that someone were here to do it with me.
It isn’t a minute after I have the thought that a soft knock echoes off the hotel room door, and another woman opens it to Chase. He steps inside with a big smile and a bouquet of light pink roses in his hand.
Every part of me melts.
I haven’t seen him since before I had to go to dinner last night with the Netflix CEO and a few important executives, and I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t missing him like crazy.
This guy is every bit as special as I wrote him to be and then some. Truthfully, I’m not entirely sure I deserve to be experiencing all he has to offer.
I mean, at the bottom of it all, I’m still lying to him.
Not maliciously, and not on purpose. But as he walks toward me with a grin that includes his eyes and puts the roses down on the empty chair beside me, I can’t help but think he doesn’t deserve to be lied to at all.
If there weren’t all these people in here with us, I’d consider telling him right now. As it is, I’m afraid the kind of scene that would result from telling him everything this publicly would be even worse than continuing to keep it to myself for just a little longer.
