Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 111443 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111443 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
He shook his head sadly. “It could happen. This is Hollywood. There’re no guarantees. You always knew that.”
That was true. I did know that.
But everything had changed. I didn’t care about a Hollywood guarantee. I didn’t care about being a box office sensation. I never had. I’d just wanted a purpose. And a reason to believe I had something worthwhile to give.
“Well, thank you for the generous offer, but I decline.”
“It’s a lot of money, Trent.”
“Doesn’t matter. I don’t want it. I don’t want any of this. I never did.” I opened my arms wide, then headed for the door. “I only wanted you.”
“Me?”
“Yeah. You. Just you. Fuck the rest.”
Seb’s eyes went a little wild. His hand trembled when he pushed his hair from his forehead.
“But I…I can’t. We—it’s not possible.”
“I know,” I choked, sounding desperate to my own ears.
Seb’s chest heaved as he licked his lips. “Look, this is a good opportunity for you.”
“I’m not interested, and I won’t change my mind.”
We engaged in a painful standoff. Words hung in the air that neither of us wanted to say aloud.
“Maybe you should think it over. You could put money in the bank and—”
“No.” I sighed in defeat and shook my head. “I want to be angry with you, but you can’t help yourself. Baxter is always gonna come first. You’re still fighting for your life, chasing ghosts and kicking ass. It’s a survival thing for you.”
“It’s business,” he replied shakily.
“No. It’s fear.”
I softened my tone as I closed the distance between us and reached out to touch him. I caressed his face and held his chin, memorizing his features…the gray at his temple and in his beard, the indent on his bottom lip, and the creases next to his pretty blue eyes.
“Trent…”
“Good-bye, Seb. Take care of yourself.”
I kissed his cheek, opened the door, and walked away…slowly cracking from the inside out.
My vision blurred as I switched lanes, navigating rush hour traffic on one of the busiest streets in LA. Home was in the opposite direction, but I couldn’t seem to gather the energy to change course. So I kept driving. I passed the Italian restaurant Seb swore served the best garlic bread, Oliver’s favorite ice cream shop, and the valet kiosk in front of Matteo’s with a growing sense of loss…and heartache. My head hurt and my limbs felt heavy as I turned left on Doheny and right on Sunset.
I had no intention whatsoever of ending up at Casa del Sol. I was cruising on autopilot, blaring pop music loud enough to drown out the ghostly voices in my head. But something led me here. I guess I really needed a friend.
“Christ sakes, Trenton. You look awful. What happened to you?” Macy stage-whispered when I plonked into a booth in her section.
“I don’t know, but I think I need tequila.”
She eyed me warily, fussing with the crystal around her neck. “I’m gonna take an early break. Come with me.”
I dragged my feet as I followed her past the bar and down a hallway near the restrooms, waving absently to familiar faces along the way. Macy opened the door to Ravi’s office, pointed at the blue vinyl chair in front of the boss’s desk with a long red fingernail, and barked at me to sit.
“Where’s Ravi?”
Macy pulled a chair to face me and primly crossed her legs. “He was in earlier. I’m in charge now.”
“Did you get a promotion?”
“Yeah, you’re looking at the new assistant manager and head of service,” she bragged with a smile.
“Congratulations. When did this happen?”
“A coupla weeks ago. I would’ve told you sooner, but you’ve been busy.”
“I’m sorry. I should’ve texted you.”
Macy rolled her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. I was gonna say you were out there living your life and bein’ happy with your silver foxy fox, but you don’t look so happy now.”
“I’ll be all right.”
“Hang tight.” She patted my knee and rounded the desk. She rummaged through a drawer, then pushed a bottle of Patrón and a plastic cup toward me. “Only one shot, ’cause you’re driving.”
I obeyed. “Thanks.”
“You want a reading too?” She pulled her cards out before I could refuse. “You can talk while I shuffle.”
I didn’t have it in me to argue, so I sat there for a minute, watching her hands move over her cards. Mariachi music drifted under the door, along with the clatter of plates and the hum of conversation. It was nice…familiar. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t regret quitting, but this had been a good place to land in for a while.
“Do you ever feel like life is a series of bus stops? You hop on one bus, change stops, take in new scenery, do it again…never knowing your direction. Are you heading west or east? To something or away from something? ’Cause that’s how I feel right now.” I swallowed hard and looked away when tears welled. “I think I’m lost, Mace.”