Thirty-four
Liam shut the door behind him, the echo bouncing off the empty walls. He didn’t have time to deal with this. His ferry to Seattle was on the way. He’d already booked a hotel room. He’d solved this problem, and staying behind wasn’t part of it.
He glanced at his watch and sighed. Staying meant seeing Mackenzie again. It meant watching Cameron run his hands on her back and spin her around. It meant having to hold his tongue.
His stomach lurched. He couldn’t do it.
Bags. He needed to get his bags. One over the shoulder, one in hand. The tuxedo, zipped closed, draped on top. He dragged the canvases outside. Someone would pick them up. He’d figure it out later.
Down at the dock, Joey had disappeared. The seaplane floated on the water, looking too peaceful. Liam hooked the tuxedo hanger on the door. Hopefully the wind wouldn’t blow it down. If it did? Oh well.
A sputtering engine announced the arrival of his ride. It was a small boat, not as convenient as the seaplane, but he didn’t want to bother Joey…or have to answer any more questions.
It was a short, choppy ride to Friday Harbor. Water sprayed onto his face and sunglasses as Liam sat, staring ahead.
He unloaded at the dock, then sat on a bench until his ship arrived. The timing was perfect – not too much time sitting around waiting. Within an hour, he’d gotten in line and taken his seat at a window inside the express ferry.
Watching San Juan Island disappear over the horizon gave him a moment to breathe. He pulled out his laptop and put on his headphones. The thing he felt worst about was leaving without talking to Russell about Lottie’s documentary. They’d never had a formal agreement but until last night, he’d planned on delivering something .
It was a waste, but what was he going to do? Liam opened the file with Lottie-related videos and clicked through. A shot of Lottie in her tank. Mackenzie fighting with Mrs. Smitt. Mackenzie fighting with the dock bros. Sea pen netting arriving on a cool and misty morning. Mackenzie flying in a plane…
Maybe he couldn’t make a documentary. But maybe he could do something else.
Liam opened a new project and named it “Lottie,” dropping videos in rapidly, sorting them, sketching out cuts in his mind. He was tangling with the wording of the opener when he felt a tap on his shoulder.
He jumped, pulling off his headphones.
“Sorry, sir,” the woman said. “I just wanted you to know we’ve arrived in Seattle.”
“Right. Thank you.” He slammed his laptop shut and gathered his things.
It was easy to get a cab to the hotel with a view of the city he’d booked downtown. Normally he wouldn’t book something so expensive, but he’d made so much selling paintings that he’d decided to splurge.
At the hotel, he dumped his things and got to work at a small desk by the window. Dinner that night was courtesy of room service. He stayed up until three, finally giving up when blinking failed to clear the soot from his eyes.
The rest of the week went on in this fashion. He made a little time to sightsee, stepping into Pike Place Market, walking along the streets. He went to a coffee shop to apply to some stopgap jobs, surprised when he heard back within a day.
It only took a week to throw something together. There wasn’t anything he could do about Mackenzie, but at least he could do something for Lottie.
He sent it off into the world and bought a plane ticket. It was time to move on.