“I’ll keep that in mind. You should come with me.”
“What?”
“On my trip to New York.”
I’d never been to New York City before. I wanted to go so badly. But I knew I couldn’t. “I have to work.”
“Get out of it.”
“I can’t, Max. Especially since I have my own office now.”
He whistled sarcastically. “Now who’s the big-shot in this town?”
“Still you,” I said. I told him about the office and how Kevin had presented me with it. “So there’s no way I can just take off the rest of this whole week. That would look pretty bad.”
“Fine then. We’ll go this weekend. I’ll come get you and we’ll go. I enjoyed our weekend out of town. Nice, quiet—”
“Not so quiet in the bedroom.”
“I was getting to that.” He chuckled. “So we had the quiet getaway. Now we’ll have a not-so-quiet one.”
Max and I texted and talked on the phone over the next couple of days. He told me all about his trip and I filled him in on how my week was going. But mostly we talked and teased about our upcoming weekend in New York.
Grace called Wednesday morning as I was driving into work. She had done exactly what I asked her to do.
“He’s been to work the last two days,” she said.
Several days ago when I told her I had something for her to do, that’s what I was talking about. All I wanted was for her to find out if Chris was back home, making me feel safe knowing he was no longer in LA, and that’s exactly how I felt upon hearing her news.
“Thank God,” I said.
“I think you mean, ‘Thank Grace.’”
“Uh, I wouldn’t push it if I were you,” I said. “You’re a big part of the reason all of this happened in the first place.”
Her tone shifted to apologetic again, but I told her to forget it.
“Thanks for checking it out,” I said. “You still haven’t told Mom and Dad, right?”
“No way.”
“Good.”
“So,” she said, changing the subject, “have you met anyone?”
I wanted to tell her about Max. I really did. I just wasn’t ready to divulge it to the world yet. And I didn’t want her to fret, like I knew she would. She had been just as skeptical of my new life in LA as my parents had been. While my parents were mostly disapproving, Grace was worried about me. All the more reason not to tell her just yet.
SIX
The rest of the week was uneventful. I was glad I didn’t have any more interviews with prospective clients. I could focus on my work, which mostly involved coordinating with our PR team to make sure our clients’ social media accounts were current. That also involved responding to fans. Before I got this job, I had no idea how much of the interaction between fans and stars was really between fans and PR folks.
When I got home Friday afternoon, there was nothing to do but wait. I had already packed and Max was sending a car for me. He was coming back from Vancouver—all the way to LA to pick me up, then we were off for New York City.
I sat on the couch, using my phone to browse Twitter, all the while thinking about how I had my first flight when I was twenty, and now I was about to take my second private plane ride in as many weekends. What a whirlwind this was turning out to be.
I got a text from Max: Car should be there any minute.
I wrote back: Great! Can’t wait to see you.
Max: I’ll tell the driver to step on it.
Me: Haha. Where are you now?
Max: About to land in Burbank. Are you hungry?
Me: For you.
Damn. I shouldn’t have sent that. Ah, what the hell—it wasn’t like I was playing hard to get anymore.
Max: You’re a bad girl. I like it.
Me: I’m not hungry.
Max: Too late. I already ordered your food. See you in a bit.
A few minutes later I was in the backseat of a black Rolls Royce. The driver was an older gentleman named Samuel. He asked me if I’d like a drink on the way. I declined and he closed the door, then whisked us off toward the Burbank airport.
“Excuse me,” I said.
“Yes ma’am?”
“Is this…are you…do you work for Max?”
“No, Ms. Rowland. Not directly. I work for myself, actually. Mr. Dalton is one of my clients.”
“Oh, okay.”
“Sorry to disappoint, ma’am.”
I looked at the review mirror and saw him looking back at me. “I’m not disappointed. Sorry if I sounded that way.”
“It’s quite all right, Ms. Rowland.”
“Call me Olivia.”
He nodded his head. “I’d rather not, if you don’t mind. I like my business to be of the highest class, so while you’re free to call me Samuel, or whatever you’d like, I’d prefer to call you Ms. Rowland or ma’am, if you don’t mind.”
“What’s your last name?”
“Garvey.”
“Okay, Mr. Garvey, you may call me Ms. Rowland.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“You’re welcome, sir.”
He didn’t laugh out loud, but in the mirror I could see the corners of his eyes scrunch up, so I had at least brought a smile to his face.
By the time we got to the airport it was dusk. A beautiful sunset was at the end of the runway. Max’s private plane sat on the tarmac, the door open and the steps down. When Mr. Garvey turned toward the plane, I saw Max standing at the foot of the stairs.
He wore a tight white t-shirt, jeans, and black hiking boots. So simple, yet so fucking hot.
Max came around and opened my door, taking my hand. When I stood next to him, he put his arms around me and gave me the kind of kiss you get when someone hasn’t seen you in a long time.
“Wow,” I said, when he freed my mouth from his. “You were only gone for a few days.”
“I missed you. Come on.”
He led me to the plane, up the stairs, and when we boarded I saw that he had several take-out containers from a Chinese place on the table. I really meant what I said earlier—that I wasn’t hungry—but all of the sudden I was famished. It smelled so good.
As the plane took off, Max and I looked out the window. I decided that the best way to watch the sunset over the Pacific horizon was from an ascending plane.
“Let’s eat,” he said.
We ate and talked about New York City. Max knew I had never been there, so he told me all the things he planned to show me over the weekend.