"Snowboarding? In California?" she wrinkled her brow.
"Yeah! Mammoth Mountain is less than five hours from L.A. and Tahoe is about seven. The snowboarding is great. I go with my buddies all the time."
"Hmmm. Sounds fun."
"Where are you from originally, Grace?"
"Ohio," she answered.
"I'm gonna assume you've never surfed. Have you ever snowboarded?"
She shook her head. "No, I've never done either. After my parents divorced, money was kinda tight. We never traveled."
"When did your parents divorce?" I asked.
"A couple years after my brother, Andrew, died. My mom just never really pulled herself out of the depression she sunk into," she said quietly. "My dad tried everything to help her move forward, but nothing worked. Eventually, she asked my dad for a divorce. I think just being around him, watching us all try to get back to life, it was too much for her. She resented us and she thought we were the reason she couldn't ever feel okay." She shrugged, but I saw the grief flash in her eyes. It still hurt her to think about what had happened to her family.
"So your dad raised you. Where did your mom go?"
"She moved across town. We went there on the weekends for a while, but eventually those visits stopped. It was just too hard for us to be there–she would just start crying in the middle of dinner, and if any of us ever raised our voice for any reason, she couldn't handle it. She checked into a hospital to try to have her depression treated when I was fourteen and she seemed to get a little better. But she's never completely come back. My sisters and I see her once a year or so, usually around the holidays. She's living with a boyfriend now who's pretty nice. She seems to be doing okay." She looked down.
Jesus, no wonder she was such a control freak. Her whole fucking world had fallen apart when she was just a kid.
"Hey," I said, reaching for her hand across the table. "Thanks for sharing that with me."
She laughed a small laugh. "I didn't even make you sink a basket for that one."
I smiled. "We're too good at that game anyway–let's just skip the formalities from now on and move straight to the secret." I winked. "But fair is fair. I owe you one."
She grinned at me and tapped her chin. "Hmmm. Okay, tell me about why you traveled around Europe–and where you went." Her eyes shined. It must sound cool to someone who had never been out of Ohio her whole life.
"Well, like I said, when my granny died, I got a little bit of money. I had lived in Massachusetts with her briefly, but other than that, I hadn't ever lived outside of California, and so I decided to bum around Europe for a little while–just go wherever I wanted–see where the wind took me." I smiled and her eyes widened.
"That sounds terrifying."
I laughed. "No, it was awesome. I loved traveling. Just me and my backpack–no itinerary, no specific destination. I went to Rome, Barcelona, Florence, Venice, Paris… the most incredible places in the world. Then I ran out of money and came home." I laughed again and she smiled at me.
"You're a really brave person, Carson."
I stared at her. "Nah, not brave, just open-minded."
When we got back to the hotel, it was about three o'clock and so we decided to enjoy the pool for a little bit. We parted ways at her floor and planned to meet in the lobby in twenty minutes.
I let myself into my room and noticed right away that it had been cleaned. Fresh sheets for me and Grace to dirty up again tonight. I smiled to myself.
I changed into my swim trunks in minutes and picked up my phone to call my agent, Tim. Shit, this was not going to be pleasant. I had been scheduled for three fan signings today–all of which I had blown off. And Tim had flown in this morning to help manage them.
I sat on the end of the bed as his phone rang.
"You had better be dead and calling me from the afterlife right now."
"Would that get me off the hook?"
"No, but you'd be safe from me. Otherwise, I'm going to kick your ass all over Vegas. Where the fuck are you Carson?"
"Uh, I'm still in Vegas. I just came down with a nasty, nasty virus. Seriously–I couldn't even get out of bed."
"Really? Because Chastity Aurora said she saw you gorging yourself on cake at Caesars Palace today with some little blonde."
I closed my eyes. Fucking Chastity Aurora. Slutty, little tattletale. I sighed. "Listen, Tim, I'm gonna be upfront with you. I hate that shit, you know that. It was unprofessional of me, but I blew off the signings. I'm sorry I put you in a bad spot, but I can't do those anymore. If you set me up with more of them, I'm gonna have to find a new agent."
"Carson, this isn't exactly the time to threaten to fire me. I should be firing you, after I kick your ass." He sighed. "Listen, I already put out a press release apologizing to your fans on your behalf. I said that a family emergency came up, so roll with that if you're asked. You don't have to give details. And then don't ever make me look bad again in public, you got it?"
"Yeah, I got it."
"All right–go back to your virus. You don't have any other scheduled events this weekend. Your room's paid for and you have to give twenty-four hour notice for cancellations or I'd send you back to L.A. tonight. But Carson, I'll see you at your shoot on Monday. Ten a.m. Be there."
"I'll be there, Tim. Thanks." I hung up.
I threw the phone on the bed and sat with my head in my hands for several minutes, trying to get back in a better headspace. The only reason Tim had even been as lenient with me as he'd been was because I'd already made him a good amount of money with a couple films. And my potential to make him more was off the charts. I knew that. And so did he.
Grace. I just wanted to see Grace. I didn't want to think about any of this shit. I didn't want to think about what I had to return to on Monday.
CHAPTER 8
Grace