The Interview: New York & Los Angeles Part 2

by Sandi Lynn

  “Don’t worry, Coco. He’ll grow to love you. Just turn on your charm and he won’t be able to resist you.” I smiled as I kissed her.

  “Are you ready?” Wyatt asked as he came downstairs.

  “I guess.” I sighed.

  He hooked his arm around me and we took the elevator down to the lobby and climbed into the limo. We had told Ryan about my diagnosis when we arrived in New York and now we were heading to the magazine so I could talk to George and Eric. I had told Wyatt I needed to do it alone. He supported my decision and told me that he’d be waiting outside for me when I was finished.

  “Well, well, look who decided to grace us with her appearance,” Eric spoke with an attitude and George immediately turned around and looked at me.

  “Laurel. Thank God.” He got up from his seat and hugged me. “I’ve been so worried about you.”

  “I’m okay.”

  “Listen, young lady.” Eric pointed his finger at me. “If you weren’t Wyatt Coleman’s fiancée, I would have fired your ass by now for what you’ve done and didn’t do.”

  “I know, Eric, and I’m sorry. I’m here to explain everything.”

  “What’s going on?” George asked as he sat down.

  “You better have a damn good explanation,” Eric spoke.

  “Actually, I do. I have a brain tumor the size of a tennis ball in my head and I’m having brain surgery to have it removed on Friday,” I casually spoke.

  “What?!” George exclaimed.

  “Jesus, Laurel. That’s not even funny. Not even for you.”

  “It’s not a joke, Eric. It’s the truth. I had an MRI done in California and it’s in the right frontal lobe of my brain. So, my lack of enthusiasm for work, my inability to get anything done, my short-term loss of memory, and my headaches are all related to the tumor.”

  Eric and George both got up from their seats and wrapped their arms around me in a group hug. Eric started sobbing.

  “This can’t be happening to you,” he cried.

  “I’m sorry, Laurel,” George spoke with sadness.

  “Listen, guys.” I broke our embrace. “I’m going to be fine. It’s a simple procedure and nothing to worry about.” I smiled. “Eric, please stop crying.” I grasped his shoulders.

  “Who’s doing the surgery?” George asked.

  “Dr. Jamieson Finn.”

  “Really? I don’t understand,” George spoke.

  Once I calmed Eric down, I explained everything to both of them.

  “Well, at least it’s not malignant,” George spoke.

  “I’m still worried about you, kid.” Eric’s eyes filled with tears.

  “Please.” I waved my hand. “I’m Laurel Holloway and I’m not letting a stupid tumor that’s been growing inside my head for the past ten years get the best of me. So, you two better watch out, because after this surgery, I’m coming back stronger than ever.” I smiled.

  “That’s my girl,” Eric started to bawl.

  “By the way, Eric, I’ll have that article to you tonight. I promise.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” He hugged me.

  “You will have it in your inbox tonight. Now I have to go. Wyatt is waiting for me downstairs. “No more crying, understand?” I grasped his shoulders and he slowly nodded his head.

  “I’ll walk you out,” George spoke as he held out his arm.

  Hooking my arm around his, he walked me down to the lobby.

  “The cat?” he asked.

  “Tumor.”

  “The way you’ve been forgetting our lunch dates?”

  “Tumor.”

  “Threatening Rori LeMay?”

  “That was all me.” I grinned.

  He chuckled. “This is why I love you.”

  I hugged him goodbye and climbed into the limo where Wyatt was sitting and waiting for me.

  “How did it go?” he asked.

  “Eric cried like a baby.”

  “I’m not surprised.” He chuckled.

  From the magazine, we went over to Bella’s, told her, and then took a private jet Wyatt secured and flew to Boston. When we arrived at my father’s company, we walked to the elevator, and as soon as the doors opened, Alfie stepped out.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” he asked with an irritated tone.

  “I need to talk to you and Dad. Are you leaving?”

  “Yeah, I am, and I have nothing to say to you or any desire to hear what you have to say.” He began to walk away and then stopped and turned around. “In fact, Laurel, you’re dead to me.”

  “You little punk-ass!” Wyatt shouted as he grabbed Alfie and threw him up against the wall next to the elevators. “You better fucking be careful what you say,” he spoke through gritted teeth before removing his hands from him.

  Alfie stared at him in disbelief and then walked away shaking his head.

  “And I’m the psycho one?” I smirked at Wyatt as we stepped into the elevator.

  “Someone needs to put that little prick in his place,” he spoke as he grabbed my hand. “He’s lucky I didn’t knock his teeth out.”

  “Damn. You’re turning me on.” I glanced over at him and winked.

  The elevator doors opened and sitting outside my dad’s office was someone other than Elizabeth.

  “May I help you?” She smiled.

  “You’re not Elizabeth,” I spoke.

  “Elizabeth doesn’t work here anymore. I’m Greta, Mr. Holloway’s new secretary. You are?”

  “Laurel Holloway, his daughter. Is he in his office?”

  “He is, but he has an important meeting in about five minutes.”

  “Well, this is more important than his meeting.” I smiled as I walked over and opened his door.

  He was on the phone, and when he looked up, shock overtook his expression.

  “Carl, let me call you back. My daughter just walked in. Laurel, Wyatt, my god, what are you doing here?” He walked over, kissed my cheek, and then shook Wyatt’s hand.

  “I need to talk to you, Dad.”

  “Pumpkin, I’m just heading to an important meeting. Can it wait until later?”

  “No, Dad. It can’t wait,” I spoke as I set my purse down.

  “I really wish you would have called first. I’m sorry, but I need to be in this meeting.” He kissed my forehead. “We’ll meet later on,” he spoke as he headed to the door.

  “I have a brain tumor, Dad, and I’m going in for brain surgery on Friday,” I blurted out.

  He stopped dead in his tracks and slowly turned around.

  “What did you say?”

  “I think you heard me.”

  Opening the door, he told Greta to reschedule his meeting for later. He walked over and wrapped his arms around me, squeezing me tight. I explained everything, and needless to say, he was in shock.

  “You haven’t told your mother yet?” he asked.

  “We’re going there after we leave here. This was something I didn’t want to do over the phone and if I told you we were coming without an explanation, you’d suspect something was up.”

  “You’re right. I would have. You never just voluntarily come home.”

  “By the way, what happened to Elizabeth?” I asked.

  “She quit. Things weren’t working out,” he spoke.

  “Not surprised.” I arched my brow and Wyatt squeezed my hand, alerting me that I shouldn’t have said that.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Laurel

  We left my father’s office and headed to the Holloway Estate.

  “You really should have called first,” Wyatt spoke as we pulled into the long, winding driveway.

  “If she’s not home, I’ll call her and find out where she’s at. But it’s the middle of the afternoon, so I’m sure she’s kicking back with a glass of tequila somewhere around here.”

  We walked through the front door and I called out for her.

  “Mom?” I shouted.

  “Where’s the staff?” Wyatt asked.
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br />   “I have no clue. Maybe she fired them.” I smirked. “MOM!” I shouted a little louder.

  Suddenly, she came sprinting down the stairs, tying her blush silk robe.

  “Laurel, what on earth are you and Wyatt doing here?” she asked with surprise.

  “Why are you in your robe in the middle of the afternoon?” I asked.

  “Adalynn, is everything—Oh, hello,” a strange man wearing one of my father’s robes spoke from the steps.

  “Jesus, Mom.” I cocked my head at her.

  “Robert, this is my daughter Laurel, and my future son-in-law, Wyatt Coleman.”

  “Robert Hathaway?” Wyatt smiled. “I thought that was you.”

  “Good to see you, Wyatt, considering the circumstances. Nice to meet you, Laurel.”

  I shook my head as to what was happening right in front of my eyes.

  “Laurel, what are you doing here?” my mother asked.

  “I need to talk to you now, Mother. It’s important. But can you go get dressed?”

  “Of course. Is something wrong?”

  “Yes, something is wrong. That’s why I’m here.” My brows furrowed.

  She and Robert went back upstairs, and I walked over to the bar and poured Wyatt and me a drink.

  “You know him?” I asked as I handed him a glass of scotch.

  “Yeah. We’ve done business together.”

  I rolled my eyes as I threw back my drink.

  “Now what is going on?” My mother emerged into the living room.

  I handed her a glass of tequila. “You’re going to need this.”

  She took it from my hand with a perplexed look on her face.

  “You might want to sit down for this.” I pointed to the couch.

  “Oh my, you’re pregnant,” she spoke.

  “No. That’s something I would have told you over the phone.”

  “Don’t tell me that you and Wyatt have called off the wedding.”

  “No. We didn’t call off the wedding.”

  “Then spit it out. What’s going on?”

  “I’ll tell you after you stop asking me a million questions.”

  “Laurel, you’re exaggerating.”

  I took in a deep breath.

  “I have a tennis-ball-sized brain tumor and I’m going into the hospital to have it removed on Friday.”

  She stared at me as horror filled her eyes and she started to tremble. Wyatt grabbed the glass from her hand and set it on the table.

  “Mom.” I walked over to her and grabbed her hand. “I’m going to be fine.”

  I sat next to her and explained the whole story. After a while, and a couple of tears, she calmed down. Bringing her hand to my face, she spoke, “Of course you’re going to be fine. You’re a Holloway and we’re strong women.”

  “That’s right.” I smiled. “I am a Holloway. Now, want to tell me what’s going on with you and Robert?”

  “Just sex, Laurel. Nothing more.” She picked up her tequila from the table and tossed it down her throat. “I know you can understand that.” She smiled.

  “Yes, Mom. I totally understand that.” I grinned as I hugged her.

  Wyatt and I said our goodbyes and hopped on the plane back to New York. I let out a sigh of relief now that everybody who was important to me knew. I needed to get back some normalcy in my life, at least until Friday.

  When we arrived home, Coco Chanel came running to us and started rubbing against Wyatt’s leg.

  “Can you please not do that?” Wyatt spoke to her.

  “She loves you.” I bent down and picked her up.

  “Well, she needs to keep her distance from me.”

  ****

  Wyatt

  Laurel was sitting on the couch working on her article, so I went into my office to get some work done. As I was sitting behind my desk answering emails, Coco Chanel decided to jump up and walk across my desk.

  “Shoo!” I said as I picked her up and set her on the floor.

  She jumped up again, this time letting out a few meows as if she was yelling at me.

  “I said shoo! Why don’t you listen?”

  She walked over to me and rubbed her face against my hand.

  “For fuck sakes.” I moved my hand away. “Get out of here. Can’t you see I’m trying to work?”

  She meowed again and then had the audacity to place her paws on my chest and stretch upwards so she could sniff my face. I froze as our eyes met, and suddenly, purring sounds erupted from her.

  “Seriously, cat. I don’t like you and I probably never will. The only reason you’re allowed to stay is because I love Laurel. Let me be very clear, we are not friends, nor will we ever be.”

  She jumped off my desk and ran out of my office. Obviously, she was smart and understood exactly what I said to her. Now she wouldn’t want anything to do with me and that made me happy. After I finished doing some work, I walked out into the living room to check on Laurel.

  “How’s it going?” I asked.

  “Good. I finished the article, but I can’t seem to remember how to attach it to the email. Stupid brain.” She smiled.

  “Here, let me help you.” I sat down next to her and showed her exactly what to do.

  “So simple.” She shook her head in disbelief that she couldn’t remember.

  “It’s okay, sweetheart.” I kissed the side of her head. “This is only temporary. Are you working on something else?” I asked as I glanced at her opened word document.

  “Yeah. I’ve decided to start a series of articles on my brain tumor, from beginning to end. I’m hoping that maybe my experience can help others.”

  “That’s a great idea.” I smiled.

  My sister Sammi ended up coming over. She had been on vacation in Alaska when I called and told her the news about Laurel. We had dinner, talked, and then Laurel excused herself to go upstairs because she was tired.

  “How are you holding up?” Sammi asked as she placed her hand on my back.

  “As well as can be expected, I guess. I’m really worried, sis.”

  “And you have every right and reason to be. But, Laurel’s surgeon is one of the best in the country. I did some research on him after you told me.”

  “Anything can go wrong, no matter how good a person is at his job,” I spoke.

  “Laurel seems to be in very good spirits about it.”

  “She is, or at least, that’s what she wants everyone to think, including me. She never shed a tear, Sammi, and she makes jokes about it. It’s really bothering me that she’s taking this whole thing so lightly. This is her life at stake.”

  “Listen, Wyatt, everyone deals with their situations differently. People have their own coping mechanisms. This could be Laurel’s.”

  “Maybe.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “I just wish she’d talk to me about it.”

  “She will when she’s ready.”

  “Listen, I’m not going to be working in the office for a while after the surgery. I’m not sure exactly how long, but I’ll need you to take over.”

  “Already on it.” She smiled.

  It was late when Sammi left, so I went upstairs to get ready for bed and found Laurel sound asleep with Coco Chanel curled up next to her. A small smile crossed my lips. After brushing my teeth and stripping out of my clothes, I quietly climbed into bed so I didn’t wake her. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I saw Coco’s head pop up and look at me.

  “Don’t even think about it,” I whispered.

  She slowly got up, gave herself a long stretch, and then walked over Laurel and climbed on my chest. She sat there, staring me straight in the eyes as if she was making some sort of plan to attack me. I glared at her and she laid her head down and closed her eyes.

  You have got to be kidding me.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Laurel

  “Good morning, Eric.” I brightly smiled as I strolled into his office.

  “Good morning, Laurel. How are you today?” he asked with concern.
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  “I’m fantastic! I was going to call you last night, but I fell asleep. I want to talk to you about something.”

  “Of course. Have a seat. Can I get you something? Coffee? Water?”

  “No thanks. Listen, I want to document my brain tumor journey from start to finish for the magazine.”

  “Are you sure?” His brows furrowed.

  “Yes. Of course. So, what do you think?”

  “I think it’s a good idea, if you’re up to it.”

  “I already started on it last night and I’m going to go work on it in my office.” I smiled.

  “To be honest with you, Laurel, I didn’t think you’d be coming in this week.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I just thought maybe you’d want to stay home and prepare for Friday.”

  “What’s to prepare for?”

  He turned his chair around and faced the window behind him.

  “Eric?”

  “Yeah. Just give me a minute, okay?”

  “For god sakes. You better not be crying!”

  I got up from my seat, walked over to him, and placed my hand on his shoulder.

  “I’m going to be fine,” I softly spoke as I stared out the window.

  “I know.”

  “Obviously, you don’t, because you cry every time I see you.”

  “I’m an emotional person. I can’t help it,” he spoke.

  “Since when?” My brows furrowed.

  I went to my office and the moment I sat down, George walked in.

  “I’m surprised to see you here.” A grin graced his lips.

  “Why does everyone say that? Eric just said the same thing. Why wouldn’t I be here?”

  “I don’t know. You were kind of not coming in for a few days.”

  “Well, now I know why I wasn’t. But now I know what my problem is and I’m not letting it control me.” I arched my brow. “Eric started crying again.”

  “He’s worried about you, Laurel. You’re like a daughter to him.”

  “That’s sweet, but he doesn’t have to worry. I’m going to be fine.”

  “I know you will be.” He smiled. “Some people are more sensitive to it than others. For example, if I were in your shoes, I’d be scared to death. But you’re not. You’re so calm about it.”