“But I hadn’t expected it to backfire like that. I made a terrible, terrible mistake. And I’ve been paying for it ever since.”
He thought it was his mistake. And she’d spent the past six years thinking it was hers and hiding from life because of it.
“It wasn’t your mistake, Minh. I don’t—never say that, please. I didn’t realize you felt that way. I didn’t realize…”
She went to him, bending to hug her father even as he stood up and wrapped her in his arms. “Never feel like it was your fault, please. I’ve watched you shrink away from life over the past six years, and I’ve always feared it was because of Kieu and her addiction. But I never realized you thought it was your fault. It’s not. It’s not.”
Oh, God. She was crying now, for the pain that both she and her father had felt, that her parents had endured, and for the years of living she’d lost. She was crying in anger at herself, at Kieu…
But mostly, she was crying because she needed to let go of the fear. They hugged for several minutes, and when her dad finally stepped away, she felt lighter. Freed.
“I’m going to go grab some water and call your mother. We’ll talk more later, okay?” He dropped a kiss on her forehead and headed off, and she knew he needed a moment away to collect himself. The beep of the machines filled the silence in the room, and Minh went over to Kieu’s bed to look down at her peacefully sleeping sister just as her phone rang.
She didn’t recognize the number, but the area code was San Francisco, and her heart started racing. Maybe it was Chris. Oh, God, let it be Chris. She swiped the screen and pressed the phone to her ear, excited.
“Hello?”
“Miss Jackson?” The voice on the other end of the line was smooth and male and…unfamiliar. Not Chris, then. The disappointment was acute.
She tried not to sigh. Please don’t let it be a telemarketer. She wasn’t in the mood to have someone try to sell her something.
“Speaking.”
“This is Carl Bolton. I’m the executive producer at Cabin Fever Studios. You had sent in a demo tape some time back.”
Cabin Fever Studios? She remembered them. They’d put out a call for a score several months ago. They’d been one of the places to reject her because her work lacked artistry.
She forced her tone to remain neutral. “Yes, I remember.”
“Oh, good, good.” His voice was overly bright. Annoying. “Well, I’m calling because we’re about to start work on another film and I was wondering if you might be interested.” He cleared his throat. “I also heard that you were finishing up work for Chris Reichert.”
It was weird, the way he used Chris’s name instead of Phantom Studios. It sounded personal, somehow. It bothered her. “That’s right,” was all she said.
There was a slight pause, as if he hadn’t expected her to respond that way, and then his too-chipper voice came through the line again. “Well! I’d love to talk a bit more about the opportunity we have here. Would you be willing to meet for lunch tomorrow at Perbacco? Say one o’clock?”
She had a flight booked for Wednesday, back to California, and she was supposed to be landing around noon. She’d be cutting it close, but she wanted to know what this guy was up to. Something about it didn’t feel right.
“That sounds fine. I’ll see you then.”
“Great.” He gave her his contact details and let her know what he looked like. When she hung up, she called Chris. Just in case he could tell her anything about this guy.
Just to hear his voice.
But the call went straight to voicemail, and there wasn’t a chance to call again after that.
…
Chris was exhausted. He’d stayed up late last night getting ready for his meeting with Harmon, working in the booth at the studio. By the time he saw Minh had called him, it was too late to call her back. She was coming home today, anyway. Maybe he could tell her in person that he was sorry, that he’d been too scared because of how vulnerable she made him feel, but that he was willing to take that chance with her. For her.
He cabbed it to the restaurant, and when he got there, Yuval was waiting out front. Chris jumped out of the cab and came forward to shake the other man’s hand. “Yuval, hey. Good to see you again.”
“Good to see you, too, Chris. Congratulations on finishing the animation work on your movie.”
“Thanks. We’re recording the soundtrack next week, so we’ll have a complete film by the end of the month.”
“That sounds promising. Why don’t we go in and you can tell me all about it?”
They headed inside, where the host led them to a table, but just before they sat down, something caught Chris’s attention. It was hard to explain, but it was a feeling of familiarity. A feeling of…
He stopped abruptly, his head swiveling until he saw her. Sure enough, that was Minh, sitting at a table on the other side of the restaurant, looking extremely cozy with none other than that shit-eater Carl Bolton.