The Disappearing Act(28)

“Great.” She smiles and slip the keys into her rucksack. “Thanks again, for everything, Mia. I owe you one.”

I don’t have much time left. If I’m going to say something. If I’m going to confront her it needs to be now. “We still on for that coffee this weekend?” I blurt.

She looks at me startled, but quickly recovers. “Oh yeah, God, I almost forgot we said we’d do that. Yeah, sure.” She shakes her head at her own flakiness. “Yes. Text me, let me know when and where. I’ll be around.”

I watch her back as she disappears down the corridor, my breath high in my chest.

Emily and I never made a plan to have coffee. But then Emily would have known that. And Emily would almost certainly have recognized her own car keys.

I don’t know who that woman was but it wasn’t Emily.





13


    The Offer You Can’t Refuse


FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 12

When the alarm goes off the next morning I feel worse than before I went to bed. Worry, nightmares, fear.

This is not the state I wanted to be in to meet Kathryn Mayer. Regardless, I drag myself from my warm sheets and try to expel last night’s weirdness from my mind, at least for now. I’ll have to get to the bottom of it after this meeting, because right now I need to focus. I stumble into the bathroom bleary-eyed and wriggle into my swimsuit for my head-clearing morning swim.

In the cool morning air, I slip into water and try to push Emily from my mind. But the same questions keep circling around my thoughts: If that wasn’t Emily then where is she? And who was the woman who came to my apartment last night? But these are question I don’t have time to answer. I can’t let my mind go there. I need to focus on Eliza. I need to focus on my meeting. It might be the biggest opportunity I ever get. As I scoop my way through the water, I let George take Emily’s place in my thoughts instead. I force myself to focus on him and Naomi. He’ll be starting filming today on the East Coast. With her. His big opportunity. I let my anger fuel me. I’m going to get this job. I’m not going to let anyone take away my shot. I hold that thought in my mind as I slip through the crisp water. And finally George too dissolves away as, out of breath, I feel my mind clear. I pull myself from the water and head back down to the apartment to get ready.

Back in the apartment there’s a text message from Nick.


Emily’s car is gone. Did she contact you? Nick x



The woman who came here last night must have taken it. I wonder if I should call him and tell him what happened last night. I check the clock and realize I just don’t have time. I tap out a quick reply instead and jump in the shower.


Yes. She came over to collect keys last night. Bit strange. Can’t talk right now tho. Got a meeting at 10. Mia



Once I’m ready I grab my car keys and bag and head to the table to pick up my script. Except it’s not there. The table is completely bare. I look underneath and then turn a quick circle on the spot scanning the living room floor. Gone. It was definitely there yesterday evening. Unless…I head back to the bedroom. It’s not there either. I pause in the hallway flummoxed. What the hell did I do with it? I don’t really need it for the meeting today, but the fact that it’s gone is extremely strange. I didn’t take it out with me yesterday so I can’t have left it somewhere. Did I put it somewhere weird? I head back into the kitchen and check the counters, the cupboards, and then the bin. Only fajita leftovers greet me. God knows why I’d have thrown it out but I’m at a loss as to where else it could have ended up.

Could someone have been in here? I know the apartment is serviced so perhaps a cleaner cleared it away thinking it was a used script. Maybe I left the packaging on top of it and it looked like rubbish, but I can’t remember. My eyes instinctively examine the rest of the room but everything else looks the same. I guess the cleaner could have been here; it’s hard to tell as it was pretty immaculate anyway. I freeze for a second suddenly remembering my lost keycard. Could someone else have been in here? A shiver runs down my spine. I try to remember the last time I actually saw the script. Was it yesterday afternoon or yesterday morning? If I saw it last yesterday morning then a cleaner could easily have been in while I was out. I catch sight of the kitchen clock and start. I’m running late. I need to go. I can check to see if a cleaner came in yesterday with Lucy once I get back later. That’s probably all it is. I’m just on edge because of the strangeness of last night, I tell myself as I head out the door.

The drive to the studio is busy but relatively painless. I make it in time, retrieving a photo pass from the studio gate and heading into the pristine marble-lobbied building where an assistant collects me and guides me briskly up to Kathryn Mayer’s floor.

My heels clack out a reassuring heartbeat as we head across another lobby and enter a bustling open-plan office spanning half of the building’s footprint. We wind our way around busy desks until we reach the open door of a corner office. The assistant disappears inside and swiftly reemerges.

“Kathryn’s ready to see you now.” He smiles and gestures into the warm sunshine inside Kathryn Mayer’s office. I take a breath and head in.

She stands as I enter, an athletic woman in her early fifties in a well-cut gray trouser suit and a brilliant white shirt, her perfectly styled hair graying gracefully at the temples. She walks around her desk and greets me with a warm handshake.