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Reed shrugs. “Oh, well. Sounds like there’s still plenty of fun stuff you can do to him, until you lose interest.” He grips my shoulder. “Come on, Peter. Let’s get some soup into you.”
“Okay, I’ll be there,” Reed says on his phone call. We’re at his kitchen table, our soup bowls almost empty. A moment ago, he got a call he’s been waiting for all morning, and now, suddenly, he’s got that tell-tale look in his dark eyes—the look that says, “I’m about to make a shit-ton of money, baby.” Still on his phone call, Reed says, “Text me the name of that club. I’ll be there in time to come backstage before their show starts. Yep. See you then. Thanks.” He hangs up and smiles at me. “Go pack your pathetic little duffel bag, Pietro. You’re coming to Chicago with me to sign my next band tonight. Fugitive Summer. Remember that name, ‘cause they’re gonna be huge. They’ve got a lead singer named Savage who’s like manna from heaven.”
“I can’t go. Hannah could change her mind about waiting to talk to me tomorrow and call me tonight instead, while we’re still in the air. I don’t want to miss her call.”
Reed pulls a face of pure disdain. Being lovesick isn’t something he has any personal experience with, and, clearly, he’s reached his limit with me after watching me succumb to the condition for the past five days. “We’re flying private,” he says, “which means you can talk on the phone all you want. We’ll also have fantastic Wi-Fi, too, if you’re wondering.”
“I’m tempted, but it makes no sense for me to come, since I might need to hop a flight to Seattle tomorrow.”
“It’s futile to resist me,” he says. “Under any scenario, it makes more logical sense for you to come to Chicago with me now, rather than staying here in LA to sulk and listen to that fucking song on repeat.”
“How do you figure? The flight from LA to Seattle is shorter than the flight from Chicago to Seattle.”
“Let’s say Hannah calls you tomorrow from Seattle and all is forgiven, and she wants to kiss and make up. Well, in that case I’ll send my plane to pick her up and bring her to Chicago and you two will get to enjoy a romantic getaway in the Windy City. My treat. On the other hand, if she calls and you need to fly to Seattle on a moment’s notice, then you’ll actually get there faster from Chicago than from LA, despite the longer flying time, because you’ll be taking my private jet instead of a commercial flight. Plus, you’ll have a whole lot more fun for the next twenty-four hours if you come with me now, and that’s not nothing, considering the sorry shape you’re in.”
“Okay, you’ve convinced me. I suppose I could buy another used car for Greg Smith in Chicago while I’m there.”
“Atta boy. Come on. We need to pack our bags and go ASAP to make it to the show on time.” As we head out of his kitchen together, Reed asks, “Does Hannah know about all those used cars you’ve been buying for that scammer guy?”
“No. She has no idea I even know the scammer exists.”
“She’s never told you about him?”
“No.”
As we walk through Reed’s expansive living room, I can tell he’s holding something back. Not saying something that’s on the tip of his tongue. “What?”
Reed shrugs. “You don’t think that’s a bit hypocritical of her?”
“How so?”
“Hannah’s upset you’ve kept some details about your life to yourself, and yet this whole time she’s never told you about her asshole ex.”
“He’s not her ex. He’s a scammer, Reed. A sweetheart swindler. Hannah was his victim. I’m sure she’s embarrassed and humiliated about what happened, not that she should be.” He doesn’t look convinced, so I add, “I purposefully kept Hannah in the dark about some things because I was scared the truth would scare her off, and she’s kept a humiliating trauma to herself. They’re not the same. Add to that, I didn’t only keep some things from her, I’ve also actively done some pretty shitty things, like hacking her and hacking UCLA after she expressly told me not to help her sister.”
Reed’s obviously not buying it. “Meh. Every shitty thing you did only proves how much you care about her. Women complain all the time that men don’t care enough. They only do the bare minimum. And then—”
“Yeah, women who date you complain about that stuff. And rightly so.”
He laughs. “The point is you did everything within your extensive superpowers to impress, help, woo, and protect that woman, and you’re supposed to apologize for it? Well, I say fuck that. She should be thanking you for caring so damned much, and also apologizing for not telling you about the scammer. If Hannah wants total honesty from you, then she should be willing to give as good as she gets.”
