12. Victor
12
VICTOR
K eri’s audition went great, so did the concert. As promised, Paul and I have kept our distance, which has proved to be difficult for both of us. She didn’t show for string rehearsal today, and I’m worried she won’t be here for full ensemble later.
“Fuck,” Paul snaps as I’m putting my bass away. “She’s at the airport.”
“Airport? How do you know?”
“ How do you know? ” he mocks. “I put a new location tag in her cello case at the concert.”
I’ve never been so grateful for him invading her privacy and tracking her. “Is there anything on her social media?”
He scrolls his phone for a moment, then a wide grin splits his face. “She got it this morning.”
“Fuck yes! I knew she would.”
His face falls. “The company is based in Los Angeles; that has to be why she’s at the airport.”
I quickly check flights from San Francisco to Los Angeles, there are three leaving within the hour, only one has seats available. I quickly book two overly-priced tickets, maxing out my credit card.
We’re going to get our girl.