“Give me a second.” I waffle between heading back immediately and doing an amended version of what I came here for. Seeing her. But, I can’t go and face Keri Ann’s disappointment in me, and at the same time risk blowing up her entire life. I can’t be that selfish. It’s one thing if I’m going down in flames, but how can I take someone else with me? How can I take her with me? Who knows what story would be spun, what lies would be seeded? I wouldn’t put anything past Audrey. It still stuns me how little I know her.
I take a deep lungful of cool ocean air and open my eyes to the beach. It’s midafternoon and warm for December. I’d love to just run right now and clear my head. Feel the rough sand and surf on the soles of my feet. Then when I was done, I’d head to Keri Ann’s, like that first day when I jogged to her house and she opened the door all sleepy, irritated, and dressed in the tiniest but most innocent looking pajamas I’d ever seen. I’d lost my balance trying to get the door closed and fallen practically on top of her, getting a mainline hit of strawberry shampoo and warm bedroom skin.
I turn and look the other way—down the beach—and my chest thuds. Someone, a girl, is jogging. It’s her. I know it, although she’s way too far away to see clearly. I back up a few steps.
This is her world, her life, and I just keep crashing it.
I understand what I need to do. It might mean I lose her in the end, but it’s the only way to go forward. The only way I even have a shot at making this work. It also occurs to me I’m being a coward, but I swallow that thought quickly.
“Sheila, I’m headed back right now. Can you stall Audrey, or do you need me to call her?”
I turn around and head back along the beach path, and I don’t look back. I start the damn car, turn around, and head back the way I came.
Sheila barks out a hacking cough that has me wincing. “You should probably be the one to call Audrey. Just tell her to wait. Tell her you’ll hear what she has to say. Try not to say anything else like where you are.” She punctuates each word, in case I don’t get it. I do. “Audrey is seriously unhinged right now.”
“Fine,” I tell her. “It’ll be late when I get back … call you first thing.”
“I’ll be on the edge of my seat.”
“I’m sure.” In my mind’s eye I see Sheila rolling her eyes. “Thank you, Sheila. Thank you for helping with this.”
“Yeah, well. I know it doesn’t always seem like it, but I’m on your side. As long as you do me the courtesy of taking my calls, I’ll earn my wage and make you look as good as possible.”
“Will do.”
She grunts and hangs up.
Of course, I still plan to come back and see Keri Ann. At some point. Explain. Something. I just don’t know how long it will be. I pause at a stop sign and punch in Katie’s number. “Katie, it’s Jack. I just got to Hilton Head, but I need to head back to L.A. Can you make sure the jet doesn’t leave again. I’ll be back at the airfield in thirty minutes.”
I’d smile, but I feel too damn grim. I’m standing at the window on the twenty-second floor of an office building in Century City, looking out over the smoggy haze of downtown L.A.
Sitting around the table behind me is Sheila, Audrey, her agent and her publicist, Duane and two other guys from Peak Entertainment as well as a member of Peak’s legal counsel, a reasonable looking guy named Andrew. The cavalry. Their cavalry.
Audrey has finally shown up and the way she is acting should be laughable. But everyone is lapping it up. I left the table because I couldn’t sit still with all the bullshit flying around.
“These are some serious allegations, Mr. Eversea. Would you like to comment?” Reasonable Andrew asks.
What I’d like is to shower, shave, sleep for forty-eight hours, and wake up in a parallel universe. A universe where I was supposed to wake up and see Keri Ann Butler lying next to me and Spanish moss swaying outside the window.
“Well, obviously, none of it’s true.” Sheila jumps in. “Ms. Lane is a little confused by the sequence of events. Those pictures were taken after Ms. Lane’s affair. But, as we all know, that’s probably neither here nor there as far as the public is concerned. As for the assault, Mr. Eversea did, in fact, hit someone in Savannah, Georgia. But he is not, nor would he ever be, a physical threat to Ms. Lane.”
It’s a good thing the California coast is beautiful because there is nothing redeeming about the ugliness of the city I’m existing in right now. I turn around and put my back to the window.