Sixteen
SIXTEEN
“Love makes the universe spin.”
Lys Amarga, The Quantum Wraith
Six months later
T he unrelenting Los Angeles sunshine came as a welcome surprise after six months under London’s nearly perpetual gray skies. Sutton fumbled for her sunglasses in her purse with one hand while gripping the handle of her suitcase with the other. The sidewalk in front of the international terminal at LAX was crowded, and although she was exhausted thanks to the eleven-hour flight, she still needed to keep her wits about her long enough to find the designated pickup place for her rideshare and then brave the traffic until she could collapse in her apartment.
“Excuse me, miss, but I think I’m supposed to take this.” Someone grabbed the handle of her suitcase and Sutton whirled around, prepared to scream for help, when she recognized Contessina’s smile under the Dodgers baseball cap and curly blond wig.
“What are you doing here? And what are you wearing?” She hugged the actor.
“I wouldn’t let you come home without a real welcome!” Contessina tugged on the bag, and this time Sutton let her take the handle. “As for the wig, Keiko Stowe recently started airing in reruns on ScreenNet. I can’t tell you how many ten-year-olds I’ve disappointed by being a grown-up now. The blond hair throws them off.” She led Sutton to a waiting town car, where the driver deposited the luggage in the trunk before helping both women into the back seat. “So. Tell me all.”
“There’s not much to tell.” Sutton ran her fingers through her hair, trying to put life into locks left limp by the dry recycled air on the plane. “You know London. The food is delicious, the history is stimulating, the shopping unparalleled and the theater awesome.”
“Yeah, yeah, three cheers for Old Blighty. You know what I want to hear. Last time we spoke—”
“Yes. I quit Monument.”
“You did?” Contessina’s grin was brighter than the sunshine outside the car windows. “So, does this mean…?”
“Yes, I will be the head of production for your new startup company. Which you already guessed, or you wouldn’t have shown up at the airport.”
“This is true. I like you a lot, but not enough to brave the hell that is LAX arrivals unless I thought there was something in it for me.” Contessina rubbed her hands together. “So, do you have to serve out your notice to Monument or can you begin right away? We really need you. I’m drowning in scripts, and my partners are eager to start spending their money.”
“I already served my notice. Truthfully, I gave it right after you and I ended our call. The London gig was great, but I realized I wasn’t happy being an executive at a big studio.” Sutton realized her mistake almost as soon as her plane touched down at Heathrow. She gave the job her best effort, but after the collaborative atmosphere of The Quantum Wraith , shepherding other people’s projects from afar for a paycheck, no matter how steady, was no longer fulfilling.
Her experiences in Arizona also caused her to recognize how she’d stunted her own growth by being afraid to follow her creative dreams because of the risk. While her gamble to secure Xavier’s heart didn’t pay off—even the thought of his name caused her to wince with how much she missed him—she’d decided the time had come to throw off the corporate golden handcuffs and test her own wings. Contessina’s offer was the perfect launching pad. “I’m so excited to be part of your company’s mission. Thanks for your trust in me.”
“I have zero concerns. Not after how you turned The Quantum Wraith around. Now, here’s our short list of potential first projects. They’re all from first-time screenwriters or directors.” Contessina and her backers were determined to provide opportunities for voices and visions who had previously received nothing but Hollywood doors slammed in their faces. She handed an electronic tablet to Sutton, and together they scrolled through the pitches until Sutton’s gaze started to swim. She glanced out the window to see how far they had traveled from the airport and was surprised to find herself in the neighborhood of Los Feliz.
“Where are we going? I live in the Valley, near Encino. Opposite side of town, other side of the hill.”
“Oh, didn’t I tell you? Your timing is impeccable.”
“Tell me what?” The car was slowing, turning onto a tree-lined residential street filled with one- and two-story houses of various styles, from colonial to mid-century, set back from the street with expansive yards and flowering bushes. “Is this where you live?”
“Me? No. Juliana and I are in Laurel Canyon.”
“So, where…” The car pulled to a stop in front of a white two-story Spanish revival home, and the driver opened the door on Contessina’s side before coming around to open Sutton’s door. “You realize I just got off a transatlantic flight, right? I’m not in any shape to meet new people?”
Contessina tsked. “Good thing you’re meeting old people. Well, not old in age.”
Sutton suddenly had a bad feeling about who lived behind the heavy wood front door. “Conti, this isn’t funny now. I’m not big on ambushes.”
“Wow, your face is so white! No, no ambush. We’re here to see a rough edit of The Quantum Wraith . Well, it’s pretty close to a final edit. There’s some sweetening left to be done and the music is still a temp track—they haven’t added the score yet. Like I said, your timing was impeccable. I was going to come here anyway, only I picked you up first.”
“So, Xavier is…” Sutton couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence, a half hope, a half fear.
She hadn’t talked to Xavier since that night in the Yuma ballroom, although she and Erik texted about comics and comics only. While she kept tabs on The Quantum Wraith , the surveillance had been from afar, mostly abetted by Nikki and occasionally Harry. Her stomach folded into various origami shapes and she regretted her overly salty airline meal.
“Not here. Honest. I meant it when I said no ambush. He offered up his house when the original venue fell through, but Jay is hosting the screening.” She searched Sutton’s gaze. “I thought this would be a fun surprise for you, but I appear to have overstepped again. If you want to go home, the driver will take you.”
“No, it’s okay. I want to see the film.” Her trembling hands and feet warred with her curiosity, and the latter won. If by any chance she did run into Xavier, at least this time, only six months had passed and not ten years. She was an adult; she could manage her emotions.
She hoped.
The screening room was at the rear of the house, so Contessina led the way through a side gate into the backyard and around the patio to a back entrance. Sutton couldn’t help but notice that while this patio was lusher and greener than the one at the ranch house at the Pronghorn, there were still miniature lights and battery-operated candles strewn around the area. She briefly wondered if Erik had pulled off a Chez Duval dinner for another unsuspecting date. The subsequent stabbing pain caused her to almost trip on the flagstones.
The screening room was filled with familiar and much-missed faces—except for one. Sutton greeted various department heads from the crew of The Quantum Wraith , from Transportation to Camera to Luisa. When she finally got up the nerve to ask Jay if Xavier would join them, she got a headshake in return. “He wanted to be here, but he had meetings he couldn’t miss, and then Erik has a game.”
Sutton wondered which sport, but before she could pose the question the lights dimmed and people started finding seats. She sat in the last row, where hopefully no one would spot her if she succumbed to jet lag. But any thoughts of sleeping dissipated, starting with the opening frame. The Quantum Wraith was even more riveting, with most of the scenes now completed, than when she saw the initial rough edit with Xavier. Her tears fell thick and fast when Con died, now knowing he was indeed dead and Lys’s heart would be buried with him.
As the minutes ticked on toward the end of the film, her neck and shoulders began to tense. All would soon be lost for Lys: physically beaten, her spirit broken, her heart brutally ripped away. Aware the film would end with only Lys’s name surviving, the legend of her exploits a rallying inspiration for future generations, Sutton crafted a plan for a quick getaway so she wouldn’t have to watch Lys’s devastating defeat.
But the moment never came.
Lys confronted Autarch Zear…and lived. Hurt, in pain, damaged both in body and soul, but she lived. And the lines spoken by Contessina…
Sutton knew those lines.
She’d written those lines.
The buzzing in her ears made it difficult to understand what was being said on the screen. She leaned forward in her seat and concentrated. Not every word was hers. The dialogue had been polished, the subtext clearer, the wit more biting. Some scenes had been tightened, others had been cut for something more resonant and affecting.
But overall, this was her alternate third act. Including the revelation that Con had survived to assist Lys’s escape so she could fight, and love, another day.
The lights came on. Excited chatter filled the air around her as everyone in the room jumped up and began to mill about the room, back slaps and animated hands attesting to the overwhelmingly positive reaction.
Everyone but Sutton, who remained still and silent in her chair, her mind trying to process the unbelievable.
Xavier used her ending. An ending that promised love and hope and optimism. An ending in which she gave Lys everything she desired for Xavier and herself.
He. Used. Her. Ending.
She needed air. Fresh air.
Contessina was deep in conversation with Raul and Jay, and if the past was any guideline, the three of them could happily talk for hours. She wouldn’t be missed.
Retracing the steps she took earlier, she found herself on the patio. Daylight had faded and the tiny twinkle lights in the bushes were making their presence known. She was suddenly craving ribs, and she started to laugh, pacing the length of the patio and then turning to pace in the other direction—
Xavier stood in her path.
His beard was a touch longer, as was his hair. His jeans hung low on his narrow hips while his white shirt was open at the neck, revealing that triangle of chest air. He appeared tired but content, his hands carrying what looked like a hockey stick and helmet. He looked mouth-wateringly delicious, and Sutton pressed her lips together on the off chance this was a hallucination caused by jet lag and she would wake up in a pool of her own drool at any moment.
But if this were a hallucination, it was a lifelike one. Sounded like him, too.
“Sutton? What are you doing here?”
Xavier blinked. And blinked again.
He’d had many vivid daydreams about Sutton in the past six months. His dreams were even more visceral, Sutton by his side, in his bed. His heart happy, his life full…only to wake up with empty arms and the space next to him cold. Now his fantasies were seeping into reality because he could swear Sutton was standing on his patio.
“What are you doing here?” he repeated.
Maybe it wasn’t her. Her hair was shorter than he remembered, the red-gold curls cut into a messy shoulder length bob. The casual leggings and tops of the desert were gone, replaced by well-cut jeans that emphasized her long legs and curvy hips, and a boxy dark green sweater that brought out the roses in her cheeks and the emerald in her eyes.
Her pink plump lips—lips that haunted his thoughts—opened and closed a few times before she spoke. “I… Contessina brought me here to see the rough cut of The Quantum Wraith .”
“But you’re in London.”
“Apparently, I’m not.”
“But you have to be in London.” His mind stuttered on that fact. She had to be there. Everything depended on her being on British soil.
She frowned at him. “Are you…are you holding a hockey stick? And a hockey helmet?” A small smile came and went so fast he wasn’t sure if he saw the expression. “Watch out for the penalty box.”
Penalty box…he took a step toward her, but the stick banged against his leg. Right. Erik’s game. Seeing her had completely wiped his short-term memory. “I need to leave.”
No. Wait. What was he doing?
When Erik learned Sutton had left for London, he had read Xavier the riot act in the way only a twelve-going-on-thirty-years-old kid could do. God help him when his adopted son became a teenager in reality. “I mean, I need to drop this off for him. But I’ll be back.” His phone vibrated with a text. “This is probably him, wondering where I am.”
She nodded, her expression continuing to read as shocked as he felt. “Say hi.”
The text was indeed from Erik. Who’d sent a selfie of himself wearing an identical helmet and carrying an identical stick with the message: You can miss the game. Tell Jay I owe him. Tell Sutton welcome home.
Xavier stared at his phone. What the…?
“Is everything okay with Erik?” Sutton asked.
“He’s fine.” He had to laugh. “Erik sent me here on a wild-goose chase. Jay must have told him you were here, so he pretended he forgot his equipment.”
“Conti promised no ambush. I guess Jay and Erik made no such agreement.” She took a step toward him, and his heart, already racing, took off at a gallop. Her expression was somber, her gaze opaque. But even as he watched, a light glowed in those green depths. A light that caused his breath to stutter even as his chest expanded. “The film. You changed the ending.”
“I did.” He held her gaze with his.
The light burned brighter. “I told you to delete my email.”
“I would never delete anything from you.” He thought for moment. “Well. Maybe some of the budget spreadsheets. There were a lot of them.”
She laughed, a strangled choke-sob. “Were you going to tell me?”
He was still holding the hockey equipment like a brainless mannequin. “I was going to do one even better. I was going to show you.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m on a flight to London tonight. The first break I had in the postproduction schedule.” He frowned. “Didn’t you get the email?”
“What email? Xavier, if you wrote me another letter that has gone missing…”
“I spoke to your assistant to make sure your calendar was clear and swore her secrecy. Four weeks ago. Then sent the email invitation to you yesterday. When you didn’t respond, I thought…maybe you were still making up your mind.”
She blinked. “I don’t have an assistant in London.”
He didn’t understand. “Yes, you do.”
“No. I left Monument. Two weeks ago. I’m moving back to LA to work for Conti’s new venture. In fact, I just got off the plane.”
“What? But that was your dream job.”
She shook her head, curls flying. “No. You were right. That wasn’t my dream, it was my parents’ dream for me. A corner office, an expense account, a steady paycheck. They made me believe failure was the most catastrophic thing that could ever happen to me.” Her smile was tentative, but her gaze continued to glow. “But they were wrong. Losing you was.”
A dam broke inside him, sending something like hope cascading through his veins. He took two steps toward her. “Sutton, I—”
She waved her right hand. “You don’t… What I do need to do is thank you. You helped me realize I want to tell stories I care deeply about, not stories picked solely for the maximum financial return. Stories with vision. Like The Quantum Wraith .” She peered at him. “The ending… Did Monument make you change it?”
He laughed, the hope expanding in his lungs. “My darling Sutton, how likely do you think that is?”
She scoffed. “Not very…wait. Darling?”
“It’s a common form of endearment.” He dropped the hockey equipment, closing the space between them.
Twin suns now burned in her eyes. “I know what it is. But you don’t use terms of endearment.”
“I didn’t. I didn’t end my films happily, either. Then I read your beautiful, heartfelt, hopeful ending, and here I am. Here we are. Not how I intended.” He’d rented a screening room at a posh London hotel, ordered canapés and very expensive champagne to be served. He’d planned to stay hidden, watch her reaction to the film they made together and then surprise her when the film was open. And pray she understood what he was trying to say to her by using her ending.
But life was messy and had a way of changing plans. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way. Because you’re here.”
Her hands found her way into his—how, he wasn’t sure—the sparks at her touch as vividly electric as ever. He caught and held her gaze. “I thought I was protecting Erik by limiting his exposure to people who might leave him. But I realize now I was using that as an excuse. In reality, I was limiting myself. Hurting myself. And hurting Erik, too, because he missed out on getting to know some great people. He’s still not happy with me for letting you go.”
“When you live in fear of the worst that can happen, you also miss out on the best that can happen,” she said softly. “I understand some of that. I bought into my parents’ framing of the world. They made me afraid to chase what I want. That’s why I never contacted you after graduation. But I’m not afraid now.”
He cupped her face with his hand, reveling in the satin of her skin. A tear gathered in the corner of her eye and started to fall. His thumb wiped the trail away. “Sutton, I love you. I loved you from the first moment you sat in the seminar, and I fell irrevocably in love with you in Arizona. But I was afraid to admit it because if I did, I was admitting I might lose you someday. It was easier to tell myself all relationships come with expiration dates and to get the loss over with. I’m so sorry for not telling you sooner. But I will tell you every night and every morning for as long we are together, if you want.”
Her smile was incandescent, more beautiful than any image he could put on film. “See, this is why happy endings are realistic. You’re never going to lose me. I waited ten years for our second chance. I’m holding on to you for another one hundred. Because I love you.”
And then she was in his arms, for real, not his imagination conjuring her up. Real and warm, her curves soft and pliable as he pulled her tight against him to kiss her. A kiss of heat and depth, of forgiveness and devotion forever, of passion and white-hot flame.
A kiss for now, and ever.