Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 65643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 328(@200wpm)___ 263(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 328(@200wpm)___ 263(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
Because my career might bounce back, but I knew my heart never would.
31
GARRETT
I knew the second I stepped into Destiny’s empty apartment that it was too late. That she was gone. The thin curtains were pulled against the bright sun, and the air already tasted stale. I looked in the kitchen. Not a single dish in the sink or on the drying rack. I opened her refrigerator. Only a pitcher of water sat on the top shelf. A few salad dressings cluttered the door, but nothing else. It had been cleaned out.
The whole place had been. It wasn’t emptied out like the refrigerator, but something vital was missing. Destiny’s favorite sneakers weren’t in the lineup. There were more bare hangers than not in her closet. Her coat was gone.
By the time I circled back to the living room and sunk down on the couch, I was sure of it. Destiny hadn’t just run out for a quick errand. She wasn’t even hiding across town in a friend’s guest room, waiting for the storm to pass. She was gone. LA felt emptier and darker for it, like she’d knocked out one of the letters in the Hollywood sign on her way out of town.
It wasn’t too hard to figure out where she must have gone. Her mom and grandparents were in Denver. Her mom had just closed on a house before Christmas. My brain stirred and my muscles twitched as I shifted into the familiar mode of managing a crisis.
I would get the address out of Noemi, and if she didn’t have it, Landon could get it.
I’d get on the next flight.
And when I found her, I’d–
It was like someone had pushed me face down into icy water. I’d what? Apologize? Words were inadequate. Tell her I did it because I loved her? Pathetic.
I moved on autopilot for the next few days. I put out fires for other clients and ignored the burning dumpster in the background. I barely noticed when cameras the size of computers were raised in front of strangers’ faces until the explosion of flashbulbs went off like fireworks in my periphery.
I was used to aggressively managing my clients’ affairs, but for my own, I kept my eyes averted and my mouth shut, even when the questions crossed the line. One day at lunch, Landon was the one who told a paparazzi to get out of our face and watch his mouth, couldn’t he see there were kids around?
“Don’t feed it,” I said tightly when he sat back down. “Stories like this die quickly if you don’t give them oxygen.”
Landon looked at me with undisguised irritation. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
So many damn things I didn’t know where to start. “Bad week,” I muttered.
“No shit,” Landon agreed. “But aren’t bad weeks your specialty?”
“Other people’s bad weeks are my specialty.” I took a bite of my burger, chewed, swallowed. Landon waited with exaggerated patience.
“So you can’t do for yourself what you do for other people?” he asked before I could take another bite.
I considered it. “I guess not,” I said finally.
Landon smacked the burger out of my hands. I stared at the empty space between my cupped palms. “What the hell, Landon?”
“You know what your problem is?” Landon asked, leaning across the table. “You’ve never–Garrett, if you reach for that fucking burger one more time…”
I held my hands up, palms out. My stomach was so tense I doubted I could even get the food down. I just wanted something to do other than listen to Landon. I didn’t want him to tell me what my problem was. I fucking knew.
“Your problem is that you’ve never had a bad week before,” Landon went on when it was clear I wasn’t going to make a grab for the burger. His gaze was fierce, and laser focused on my face.
“That’s bullshit,” I objected. “Bad shit happens all the time.”
“Yeah, but you’ve never let anything matter enough for it to fuck up your week. Your year. Maybe even your life.”
That wasn’t right. It couldn’t be. Things mattered to me. Look at the life I had. Great friends, the perfect house, a career I actually liked. It all mattered. But then why did Landon sound so fucking sure? And why did I have this niggling doubt in the back of my mind as I thought about all the things I cared about in my life?
Landon watched my face with satisfaction, like he’d just cracked me open and was expecting a thank you for bringing the hammer down. “I think that’s bullshit,” I repeated, slower this time.
“Remember when we met?”
“Like it was yesterday,” I said sarcastically. “Our eyes met across a crowded room. Sparks flew. Angels sang.”
Landon gave me the finger. “No, asshole. You were digging up dirt on Noemi’s first manager because he was trying to sue her for breach of contract and you wanted to fix it for her.”