Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-Five
ROMAN
Six hours and forty-two minutes. It’s a long-ass time in the car under any circumstances, but that’s a long time for two people who don’t like one another to be stuck in the same space.
It has been silent for the past twenty minutes. Clover occasionally peeks down at her phone, and I do my best to let the scenery distract me as I drive.
Neither of us knows quite how to break the silence, so I reach for the car’s music player. “Do you mind if I play something?”
“No, go ahead.” An amused little smile tugs at her lips.
“What?”
“I’m curious what your music taste is. Let me guess, divorced dad rock?”
I laugh. “That’s rich coming from someone who probably listens strictly to top 40.”
“Oh, Mr. Everett, are you a music snob?”
“No, I’m someone with taste,” I correct. “Prepare for an education, Ms. Daly.”
I press play, and one of my favorite collections of music plays.
It features everything from classical to rock.
Including some Eisoli songs. It’s a list that I compiled of a bunch of songs that made me feel something.
I take a peek over at Clover a few songs in, and she’s staring out at the desert whipping past outside.
Her silence is more promising than snark.
The music envelops us, casting a spell over the car and scoring our drive.
“I’ll give it to you, you have good taste,” Clover finally says. In response, a smile tugs at my lips. Before I can say anything else, a notification dances across my entertainment console. It’s a text message from Jill.
“Siri, read message.” I grab my coffee and take a swig before she reads it. Clover’s black coffee remains untouched in the other cupholder. Probably because I know she doesn’t fucking like her coffee black.
“Kat’s grabbing me for dinner and a Real Housewives marathon. See? Fine.” I hide a smile behind the lid of the drink.
“Who’s Kat?” Clover asks.
“James’ girlfriend.” Kat’s great, and he is a lucky bastard to have her around. She’s fit in seamlessly with the family as far as the siblings are concerned.
Clover is quiet for a second before she shifts in her seat, twisting a little so that she’s facing me as much as she can with the seatbelt on.
“Is Jill okay?”
I scrub my hand over my jaw. “Yes, and no.”
She sits quietly, waiting for me to elaborate. I think of how she and Jill have been spending time together, and Jill’s warning to me before I left. Clearly she’s taken a liking to this girl, so I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if I gave Clover the bare minimum details.
“Jill has anxiety,” I look over to the passenger seat.
“No shit, Sherlock, but that was more than just a little anxiety.”
“I know. We all know. She has panic attacks. She has since we were young. Being in small spaces can trigger it, and those fucking paparazzi asking their stupid questions does too.”
Clover surprises me when she says, “Is there something I can do next time if it happens when I’m around?”
I don’t tell her, but her asking that means more to me than I can admit.
“Hopefully it doesn’t happen again, but on the off chance it does, help her focus on her breathing. Stay with her, and make sure she’s not somewhere where other people can watch her and make her feel worse.”
“You guys seem really close,” she says with a wistful smile.
“We are.” It’s with a twinge of embarrassment that I realize I know next to nothing about her life outside of work. “Do you have any siblings?”
“No, just me and my parents. And Smokey,” she adds with a laugh. “They’re back in Boulder.”
“When did you come out to LA?”
“A couple of years ago. I did an acting program at the community college near home and then figured I’d give it a go out here for a bit.”
I listen intently as she talks, wondering what it would be like to start at the bottom in this industry. My last name ensured that would never be my situation.
“If this role hadn’t come up, I was probably a couple of months away from having to pack it in and head home,” she admits.
Her words summon a memory I’d stuffed down these last few weeks.
Of what I asked the legal team to do for the franchise casting agreement.
A hot wave of shame rolls through me, but Clover doesn’t seem to notice and keeps chatting away about the various commercials she’s done.
At least I think that’s what she’s going on about, I can’t focus.
The burning sense of guilt sits heavy in my stomach, distracting me. Asking the legal team to scrub Clover’s role from future movies in the franchise was fucking petty of me. Reckless, selfish, and downright mean. A part of me wants to shrivel up knowing that I’ve done something so cruel.
What I did was careless and stupid, and I need to fix it. I make a mental vow to iron it out as soon as possible before turning back to Clover.
“You mean casting agents weren’t breaking down your door after your starring role in the eczema ad?”
“Shut up.”