Chapter 29
Levi
I pick my hat up to run my fingers through my hair before tucking it back on.
I did my workout, showered, ate, organized my bag, and now I’m walking the property because, all of a sudden, I don’t know how to be alone.
She was fine last night before bed, right?
I mean she kissed me...which is good? It was good.
I mean I thought it was good. But then something clicks in my memory, a puzzle piece sliding into its space—her eyes. They were open.
“Tate?” My voice betrays my fear. I walk more into the room, standing at my full height.
I walk through the en suite, which is much like the room—spotless.
The closet door is wide open, and I know going in there is going to confirm a suspicion growing at the base of my belly.
I walk across the threshold and see it. Her side is empty.
What once held a myriad of colors and patterns is completely vacant.
I lost her. I can’t believe I lost her. The weight of everything feels too heavy. I lower myself down onto the floor, letting my back lean against the wall. I open our text thread again, and I’m not sure why I’m allowing myself to stoop to this level, but I send one more text.
Levi: You left?
I’m not sure what I want from it. It’s obvious she did leave. I stare at my phone, willing her to respond, but nothing. Against my better judgment, I shoot off one more.
Levi: Call me please.
As I’m about to turn the phone off, there’s an incoming call. Jan. Kill me. I empty and refill my lungs a couple times before answering, but it does nothing to temper my anger. This is her fault.
“What?”
“Is that any way to talk to the fairy godmother trying to make your dreams come true?”
“She’s gone and it’s all because of you!”
Jan cackles into the phone. “No, she left because she’s weak. In this business, my boy, you have to be able to stand tall and take whatever punch is thrown your way, but you already know that, don’t you? When you filled out your questionnaire you said you had a landscape company...”
“That’s right.”
“Pretty unique for someone still in high school to be running a business, isn’t it?”
“That’s none of your business,” I snap.
“That’s where you’re wrong. It’s all my business, and I need you to do now what you did then, which is to buckle up and do what has to be done.”
“I hate you.”
“So does my husband, but he’s still here because he likes to golf on Wednesdays. Don’t be dumb.”
I bite my fist till I have deep imprints of my teeth circling my first knuckle.
“What’s the plan?”
“Attaboy. The plan is the same. We’re just going to rotate Tate with Gabriella.”
“What?! She will never agree to that. Tate and Gabriella are close—”
“Save your breath, she’s already on board. She will be back in LA tonight. I’m going to send a car to pick you up and take you to LAX.”
“Time?” I relent.
“Be ready by 4:30.”
“Okay, is that all?” I say through a heavy breath.
“Yes, and Levi...”
“Hmm.”
“Congratulations on winning American Icon.” Click.
***
And everything happened as she said it would.
A black town car rolled onto the circular driveway at approximately 4:30 p.m. I had been pacing the foyer hoping this was all a dream.
Hoping to go back to yesterday morning and start again.
But no, it was real, and I had no one to thank but myself.
As the driver hits the second step of the landing, I come out.
“No need to come all the way to the door. Thanks for picking me up,” I say as a way of greeting.
The man smiles and there’s something so familiar about the way he’s looking at me. We both stop in a Freaky Friday–like whirlwind of déjà vu.
He extends his hand first. “Jerry.”
“Levi.”
I’m still trying to figure out who he is when his head drops to his wrist. “We better go if we’re going to get you to LAX on time.”
I nod, following him to the back passenger door. Once inside, I let my head fall back. I’ve got this. If anyone’s got it, it’s me. When I pick my head back up, Jerry’s looking at me through the rearview mirror.
“All okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good. Thank you.” It’s forced and unbelievable, but I have to save all my social correctness for Gabriella.
I pull my phone from my black jeans, checking to see if Tate texted back or called.
Nothing. But there is a text from Gabriella letting me know she’s going to be in Terminal C wearing a denim jumpsuit if I want to coordinate.
I curse beneath my breath. This experience is going to kill me.
I type out, “Sorry, I just got this. I’m wearing black pants, my boots, and a black button-up.
Oh, and my University of Tennessee hat.”
As soon as I hit send, another message appears.
Gabriella: Lose the hat.
Levi: No.
That airline Wi-Fi is just too good. I slide my phone back in my pocket and try to turn off my thoughts. I close my eyes again, knowing I have a good hour of stop-and-go before we get to the airport.
The sound of Jerry clearing his throat has my eyelids sliding back open. I look in the direction of the rearview mirror again, and there he is, teed up and ready to talk.
“I’ve been to the house I picked you up at before.”
I knew it! I don’t say anything.
“Yeah, I dropped off a gal there last month. I can’t remember her name, but she was great. She was very colorful—personality and otherwise.”
Now he had my full attention.
“Tate?” I suggest.
“Tate!” He slaps the steering wheel once. “That’s it! Her name was Tate. Do you know her? Does she still live there?”
I feel my jaw tense. “Nah, she left.”
Jerry, picking up no clues, just continues. “That’s too bad. She was special.”
Don’t I know it.
We spend the rest of the cab ride in silence. When we pull up to the curb at Terminal C, Gabriella’s already there. She smiles wide under her large glasses, and I force myself to do the Southern thing and get out to grab her things.
“Hi, honey!” she yells before throwing herself around my neck, her mouth crashing into mine.
Gabriella is very attractive, and I should only be so lucky to have a girl like her throwing herself on me (literally), even if it’s all for show.
Speaking of show, I spy a couple cameramen hiding behind pillars, while others aren’t hiding at all. This kiss is lasting forever.
I try to pull back, but she stays latched, so I say into her mouth, “I think we should go before it looks staged.” Not breaking character, she gets up on her tiptoes with a final kiss to the cheek before getting in the car.
She has two bags, and both look innocent enough, but I’m sure she’s smuggling thousand-pound weights in there.
Jerry comes to assist, grabbing one from me.
I watch as the weight surprises him too.
“Man, what does she have in here?”
“Honestly, knowing her, tons and tons of clothes.”
I get in on the other side of the car, wishing I wore a short-sleeve shirt all of a sudden. Gabriella is on her phone with the concentration of someone disarming a bomb.
“How was your flight?” My voice couldn’t be more awkward.
“It was fine. You know, nothing has to change between us. We were barely friends before this, and we will be barely friends after, so you can relax.”
“Oh, thank God.” I collapse back, feeling the weight of Gabriella’s entire suitcase come off my chest.
“Are you done? Also, most people would love to fake date me.” She takes off her glasses, tucking them into a purse at her feet. She’s got a Cleopatra thing going on with her eye makeup, sharp corners.
“I know. I’m sorry if I’m being a dud.” I let out a gust of air. “It’s just...”
“Tate. Levi, I get it. You’re fine. I’m not trying to replace her. Have you talked to her?” She turns to face me, and I get a weird feeling that underneath all the hair, makeup, and attitude is actually a really nice girl.
“Nah, I texted but got nothing back. I didn’t even know she was upset, and I certainly didn’t know she was leaving, or I would have tried to stop her. What about you? You guys are close...have you talked?”
She rolls her lips into one another a couple times.
“No, I don’t know what to say. I’m taking her spot, fake dating someone she really likes.
No matter how incompatible you two are, her feelings are real and she was crushed when she saw you with Kim.
Now I’m the new Kim.” She looks out the window to hide the building emotion in her eyes.
I let my hand cross the threshold of the middle seat until it covers hers. She takes it and smiles.
“Can you believe Kim is Jan’s daughter?” she says, her voice half water.
“Stop! It makes me nauseous to think about.” I groan. Gabriella’s laugh is relentless though, falling out of her in bursts.
“We’re here,” Jerry announces as we pull up to the curb of a restaurant and bar called STIR. From the cab window I can see dim lighting, a red velvet rope, and a line snaking around the building. Quite literally a place I would never go.
“Are you sure this is it?” I ask Jerry hesitantly.
“Yep. And I’m instructed to tell you that you two have a reservation at 7:30 under the name McGregor.”
Gabriella’s wide eyes turn to me, and I swallow my fury.
“It’s okay, it’s to draw attention, because...you know.”
She nods and I fling open the door to a wall of flashing lights.