Kissed Blind (Hot Pursuit #2)(72)
“I’m fine. I feel like I should be asking you. You were the one who went through the ordeal.”
“I’m doing well, very well actually. The experience opened my eyes to things going on in my life lately, and I think it’s time to make some changes.”
“Oh yeah? You’re not stepping away from acting are you? You’ll have millions of disappointed fans.”
“No. Not that.” He chuckled. “I’m at the top of my game. I wouldn’t dream of stepping away now.”
“Then what?” I gathered enough courage to look at him.
He shook his head. “No, I came in here to check up on you not bore you with the details of my personal life. Is everything all right? I threw a huge wrench at you because of my… moment of weakness.”
I tittered. “Oh, you mean Gabe? We talked everything out and we’re fine. We ended up having a great weekend.”
His eyes shot open. “Wow, that’s great. I guess my concern was ill-spent.”
I smiled despite my bleeding heart. “No need to worry anymore. We’re good.”
He leaned back and relaxed a bit. “I’m relieved. I’m glad it all worked out. Hold onto that guy of yours. He sounds like an exceptional person.”
“Yeah, well…” I trailed off and smacked my hands down on my thighs. “I guess we should get going so you’re not late.”
I started to stand, but he stopped me. “Wait. One more thing.”
I took a deep breath and sank back down into the leather. What else could we possibly talk about? “Did the fitting go okay for the event next weekend? Cici said you’d picked out a gorgeous number by de la Renta.”
“More than okay. I don’t think I’ve ever worn anything as pretty.”
He smiled warmly. “Great. I can’t wait to see you in it.” He studied my face like he was learning every feature, and an empty feeling settled into the pit of my stomach.
“Oliver?” Cici said, knocking on the door. “Cadence called and wanted me to give her your ETA. You want me to make you a tea to go?”
“Yes, please,” he answered. “I guess we should get going, shouldn’t we?”
When we walked back out into the living room, I avoided Vance. He’d look for an explanation I couldn’t give. In fact, talking with him as little as possible for the rest of the week sounded like a good idea. California was only a few days away. I needed to clear my head and to leave my life behind. It would be just what the doctor ordered.
I hoped.
Twenty-Four
The week had crept by, but I’d finally arrived at the end of it. We’d gotten off the set early to leave for sunny California, and Cici had handed me a packet of information. I studied the itinerary—the very detailed itinerary—with spreadsheets, maps of the city, the buildings we’d be visiting, and the path we’d walk on the red carpet. Virtually every minute of our time was allocated and accounted for. We were going to be busy, and that was a good thing. As much as I wanted to dislike Cici, she was good at her job.
Cici had booked us hotel rooms at some place called The Hollywood Roosevelt. Based on Becca’s reaction when I told her, I needed to be excited about it. I’d gone online and peeked at the property and the rooms. In the downtime we did have, I could take a dip in the pool and maybe have a fruity cocktail with an umbrella sticking out of it in the lounge.
Camille and Oliver managed to not turn too many heads as we made our way through the airport. Camille had worn the same disguise she had the first time we met, a short black wig and large sunglasses. Oliver had thrown on a Dodger’s hat and had kept his head down. With the exception of the security agents, no one noticed them.
We boarded our flight, and a flood of familiarity flew up my nose; a smell that was a mixture of chemicals and stale air, equal parts comfort and offense blended together in a bizarre cocktail. It may have been a working trip, but the smell of an airplane would always stir excitement in my belly. I was going somewhere and anywhere but here was where I wanted to be.
Vance and I approached our seats in first class.
“You can take the window seat,” he mumbled, pointing to the seat in our row and avoiding looking at me. “I need the extra leg room.”
He wasn’t being nice or thoughtful. True, Vance was well over six feet tall and could extent his long legs into the aisle for added comfort, but he also had a slight fear of flying. He wasn’t giving me the seat by the window; he didn’t want it. Since we weren’t speaking, I accepted his offer without razzing him, but I wanted to. I missed Vance and our playful banter. Being angry with him had become a second full-time job. I’d been silly and trite but wasn’t sure how to climb the wall I’d built for myself. I had a few hours to figure it out.
I shoved my carry-on in the overhead bin and slid into my seat. Vance settled next to me. Cici coincidentally sat across from him. I’d heard them chatting throughout the flight despite the headphones I’d buried in my ears. I shut my eyes and pretended to sleep. When we landed in California, I’d managed to not speak to Vance at all and hadn’t begun to work out how to make things better between us yet. I hoped the perfect moment would present itself, and the right words would fall from my lips.
A few shutterbugs snapped shots of Camille and Oliver as they made their way to baggage claim. Two separate drivers awaited us and tended to our bags, and two separate cars sat at the curb outside. Oliver and Camille went to their home in the hills accompanied by Cici in one car, and Vance and I headed to our hotel in the other. We had our evening free to get settled and rest.