“Do you have anything open? I’m not above scrubbing toilets if—”
“We’re fully staffed, Roz. I’m sorry. It’s not in the budget to take on any new hires right now.”
“Oh, okay, yeah.” I shrugged. “It’s no big deal. Just thought I’d ask.”
“I’ll let you know if something opens up.”
“Thanks,” I said, forcing a smile. I turned away, joining my friends back at the booth. “Oh well, maybe next time.”
“It’s probably for the best,” Ally said, smirking. “You just worry about bringing the drinks . . . and your mysterious nameless friend.”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “I’ll do that.”
~
With no word from any of the applications I’d turned in, and with Delta’s a bust, I was feeling the pressure more this evening than I had in recent days. It was becoming clearer by the minute that there was a good chance I would never find work, and even if I did, I wouldn’t make enough money in three months to pay back the ridiculous balance.
I pulled the jar of quarters off my dresser and dumped them onto my bed.
I wasn’t saving for anything in particular, just holding onto what I had because that’s what I’d done since I was able to walk. I’d find a quarter and drop it in a jar. And little by little, year-by-year, that collection grew.
There wasn’t much there. It’s not every day you find loose change on the street, especially if it’s anything more than a penny. But I sifted through the quarters, counting them until the total reached a whopping $33.
It was better than nothing; Mom would trade me the coins for bills, and I could run the small bit of cash down to Sara before Avery picked me up for our evening together. But first I’d have to face my mother, and I wasn’t ready for that yet. No doubt it would turn into another spat—she’d keep her cool; I’d start yelling. It wasn’t worth the stress, and I didn’t want to deal with it right now.
I wanted to drown in my soul’s warmth, and Mom might jump at any chance to squash that.
I held onto the quarters.
If things got desperate enough, I’d just carry the jar down to Sara’s house and let her worry about what to do with all the loose change.
I didn’t want to think about any of that this evening, anyway.
I needed to focus on Avery and a different kind of price tag. Because in exactly one hour, he would be here . . . and I wanted to look like a million bucks.
Chapter Nine
“Where to?”
“Straight through town,” I said. “Only about a mile. I’ll let you know when to stop.”
Avery backed out of the driveway, and while his eyes should’ve been focused on the unfamiliar street in front of him, I felt his glance fall to me more than once or twice in a matter of a minute.
“Watch the road,” I said, pretending it was my safety I was concerned for, but it was really his stare that made me nervous.
Was he looking at me because I’d curled my hair? Or was it the makeup? I’d never worn make up around him. Had I overdone my eyeliner or lip gloss? Was mascara clumped in my lashes? I was suddenly self-conscious, regretting the sixty minutes of prep time I’d spent in the bathroom before he’d picked me up.
“I look like a clown. Go ahead, say it.”
“No,” he said, a little too emphatically. “It’s . . . different, that’s all.”
“Bad different?”
“No.”
“Different how?”
“I’m not going to say it.”
“You’ve already said too much, so you might as well—”
“You look beautiful,” he said, muttering something under his breath. “I just . . . liked the way you looked before, that’s all.”
A pinkish tone invaded his cheeks, and Avery didn’t dare look in my direction after admitting that.
“You can pull in here,” I said, pointing to a familiar driveway and pretending like I hadn’t just badgered Avery into admitting he thought I was beautiful. That hadn’t been my angle, but I didn’t regret it, regardless. “My friend Ally lives here.” I pointed to the neighboring house. “And Carter lives there.”
“Best friends?”
“And Mel,” I said. “The four of us are inseparable.”
“So I’m meeting the friends tonight?” he asked, and his hands trembled on the steering wheel.
“No. Nobody’s home.”
Which was the norm for Ally these days. Ever since things blew up so colossally with her dad last month, they were both trying a little harder to reconnect and rebuild their relationship.
Tuesday nights were date nights. Ally’s dad would take her out for a father-daughter meal, maybe a movie. And that was pretty huge, considering weeks ago we were worried about the state of her health and safety.
Her mother’s death, her runaway sister . . . it’d taken such a toll on her dad. And sometimes I’d hated him for how much he’d let his pain distract him from the one good thing he had left in his life. Ally had an incredibly forgiving soul, and she’d never given up on him. I was glad he’d finally realized that. I was happy to see things turning around for her.
Knowing we had a while before we’d have to vacate the driveway, I didn’t bother finding a pen to leave a note. Besides, we’d be gone long before they got back to wonder who’d taken up a spot at their house.
“You up for a walk?”
He glanced around, probably realizing there weren’t many places we could walk to. I pointed back to The Red Barn looming at the edge of the property, the place that’d once housed some of the most festive parties in Sutton Woods. But it wasn’t the barn I wanted to show him; it was what was behind it.
“We’re going in the woods?”
“You scared?” I asked.
“A little bit,” he admitted. “The last time we were alone in the woods you yelled at me.”
“I won’t yell this time. And I’ll even keep my clothes on.”
He smirked, and I let myself out of the SUV. I met Avery at the front of the car, and we walked together toward the back of the Montgomery property.
Through the field, we passed the barn, the storage shed, and then came upon the woods.
“It’s not too far back, but there’s quite a bit of hiking.”
“I can handle it.”
We entered the woods, and the day suddenly fell darker. The trees shaded the familiar path, blocking out the sunlight that’d warmed my skin on the drive over. Thankfully, we’d both bundled up enough that the cool breeze didn’t overwhelm what little sunlight peeked through the leaves.
“Did Wes put you to work today?”
“Ha!” He grinned. “He tried paying me to stop working. I was more bothersome than I was useful.”
“Yeah?”
“I wasn’t cut out for mechanical work.”
“But you wore the grease well,” I teased.
“That’s really all that matters.” He looked over to me as we walked, and I felt that same familiar burning on the side of my cheek that I’d felt in the car. He was watching me again.
“What?” I asked.
“What’s your mom going to say when she finds out we’re out here?”
“Meaning?”
“Where does she think you are?”
“I haven’t talked to her. I told Dad I was leaving with a friend.”
“Right. And they’ll know that’s me?”
“I’m sure on some level they will. Why’s it matter?”
He blew a deep breath through his lips. “You’re out here in the woods, alone, with a boy your mother hates.”
“She doesn’t hate you.”
“She hates me.”
I studied his expression harder, searching for something beyond his words. What had she said to him? “She’s the reason you left early last night. She asked you to leave?”
“No.”
“Are you lying?”
“It’s hard to say.” He grinned. “Change of subject.”
; “Are you going to rehab?”
“So back to your mom,” he said, wide-eyed, obviously surprised by my question. And although he’d joked to avoid the subject, his shoulders sank at the realization that I expected nothing less than the truth. “Yes.”
That confirmed it. No more rumors. No speculation. Just truth. No one goes to rehab if they don’t have a problem, and Avery’s admission left a sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach. Of all the men in the world, I yearned for someone with a drug addiction. I’d suspected that all along, but somehow I thought I could ignore the glaring facts. Part of me wanted to know as much as he wanted to share, but a much bigger part prayed he would spare the details.
“I’m going to rehab,” he said again, almost as if he still hadn’t come to terms with it. “I don’t want to, but I have to.”
“Hey, that’s my line,” I said, but my tone fell flat—far from the intended lighthearted tease. The moment was too serious for jokes.
Avery still managed a smirk. “The meeting I was telling you about . . .”
“On the first,” I said. “With your network.”
“I have to agree to check into a rehab facility.”
“And if you don’t?”
“They fire me.”
“But you know they can’t do that,” I said, relying on my prior knowledge of Avery’s career. “You’re only three seasons into a five-year contract.”
“A contract that means nothing when it’s backed by a morality clause—one I signed. One I agreed to.”
“What is that?”
“Negative behavior, bad press, scandal . . . anything—personally or professionally—that reflects poorly on me, the show, or the network is cause for early termination of my contract.” He ran his hand across the back of his hair. “They’d already given me a warning because of the publicity stunt with Evie.”
“Yeah, what’s the deal with that, anyway?”
“I’d kept a low profile for a while, pulling back on my attendance at premiers and parties,” he explained. “I wanted to manage my time wisely so that I could focus more energy on projects I felt passionate about. But the press gets bored when there’s no story to chase.”
“So you created a story?”
“At Evie’s insistence, yes. I took too much time away from the social demands, and I fell into the shadows. With award nominations coming up, I was encouraged to take a risk with my personal life to focus the spotlight back on my career. No such thing as bad publicity, right?”
“Okay, even I know that’s a load of crap,” I said, shaking my head. “Why did you agree to do that?”
“Because I didn’t consider the repercussions. I acted impulsively—stupidly I’d forgotten about the morality clause. When Evie suggested a rumored affair, I went for it. I trusted her advice. I trusted her, and the network retaliated.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I had to let her go.”
“Obviously.” He’d literally handed her his image, and she’d taken the first swing at destroying it. That’s not the kind of person you want standing in your corner.
“When I met with the team earlier this month, I was already walking thin ice. They handed down my suspension because of the arrest, along with the terms. I have until noon on the first day of December to enroll in a rehab program, otherwise my role is terminated.”
“And you want to do the show?”
“Of course I do. It’s my life. It’s everything to me.”
“So that’s why you wanted to strike up the deal with me?” I asked, understanding a little better than I had before. “You were trying to avoid rehab?”
“It was worth a shot, you know? To go in there for that meeting and beg for a second chance, hoping they’d take rehab off the table. I thought if I could prove some responsibility and stability all on my own that they’d show some leniency.”
“But wouldn’t rehab be a good thing? Maybe it’s not such a bad idea to—”
“I don’t have a drug problem, Roz,” he said, tipping his head back to look at the trees, and his cool front crumbled with his admission. His nerves had taken over his steady voice, and I had to wonder if Avery was admitting something he’d never said out loud before. “The drugs weren’t mine.”
I sensed honesty in that confession, but I was hesitant to accept it so easily. If I had a dollar for every time someone had said those words, I’d have more than enough money to pay off Sara Oliver’s demands. That was the lamest of attempts at excusing criminal behavior, but I saw it all the time. I watched TV—people pulled stunts like that everyday. It’s not mine. I was framed!
I wanted to believe Avery, but how could he possibly argue the evidence against him?
As if he’d read my mind, he said, “I wasn’t even at that Halloween party for the party. I was there to pick up a friend who wasn’t supposed to be there, and I . . .” He bit his lip, as if he had no idea how to finish his sentence. “Wrong place, wrong time, I guess. I searched the building high and low until I found her in a small crowd of people in the back, discreetly accepting her latest purchase from a known dealer. She locked eyes with me, and she knew she’d been caught. And when she shoved the drugs in her bag, I stole the bag.”
“So you’re a thief, too?” I cracked a joke, but Avery didn’t smile this time.
“She caused a huge scene, screaming that I’d stolen her purse. She demanded that I return her things, and so I did. But not before I pocketed the thing she wanted most; I wouldn’t hand her a free pass to act so recklessly. By the time things had escalated to the point of screaming and confrontation, the police were on the scene . . . and the guy shoving drugs into his pocket got arrested.”
“Oh,” I said, rounding my lips. None of that was ever publicized. I’d only read something about a police response to a dispute at an LA party and Avery’s arrest following the call. The details were never released. “But you pled guilty.”
“I was,” he said. “I pled guilty to possession because I was in possession.”
“But you didn’t try to explain to the police that—”
“No,” he said. “I couldn’t do that to her.”
“So you took a criminal charge for a friend? What the hell’s wrong with you?”
“You’re telling me you wouldn’t do the same thing? What’re their names again? Ally, Carter, and—”
“Mel.”
“You’re telling you wouldn’t take the rap for one of them? If someone you loved was in trouble . . . what would you do?”
“I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do.”
I shook my head. “I don’t think I’d ever take the fall for—”
“Who’s Sara Oliver?” he asked, as if he already knew that he and I weren’t really all that different. He was onto me. I just wished now that I’d never admitted half of what I’d said in a moment of desperation.
“She’s nobody.”
“Except the person your brother’s indebted to. Drug money, I assume?” I looked down, and Avery’s smooth voice suddenly got a little cocky. “And look at that, you’re covering for him.”
“That’s different, though. No one’s been arrested. And he’s my brother. I’m trying to protect my family.”
“Which was exactly what I was doing,” he said. “We don’t share DNA, but every single person who walks into that studio is my family.”
I perked up. “You were protecting someone from the show?”
“We all signed the same contract. And if one of us is going to lose a job . . . well, they need her more than they need me.”
That’s all he had to say, because I knew the ins and outs of Where You Belong like I knew my best friends.
Sterling and Anna were the couple that kept that show breathing and alive, and despite his eternal love for his mortal soul mate, Anna’s character was always exploring new love interests. The writers were always throwing in hot new mythical creatures to compete with Sterling for Anna’s affection, and the fans ate it up. F
rom week to week, we never knew where her heart would take her. Ultimately, it was her curious heart and uncontrollable lust that hooked so many fans. Sterling was just the sweet cherry on top—the hero we always rooted for. But Anna made the show.
Avery was trying to save a whole lot more than Gwen Friedman, the actress responsible for bringing Anna to life. He was trying to save Anna, because without her, there was no show. Where You Belong hinged on the life of the main character, and without her, they had nothing. Avery had made a choice; he’d rather see the show survive without him than to die altogether because of Gwen’s bad decisions.
I stopped walking and Avery slowed.
He turned back. “You okay?”
“I feel like an even bigger ass now.” I said the words before I could stop them. Avery’s confession hadn’t made me feel any less guilty for the way I’d treated him. There was truth in Avery’s eyes, something that begged me to consider his sincerity, and I did. I believed him. And I was angry at myself for ever believing any of the lies or half-truths I’d gotten from the media. They’d publicize anything for a big reaction, and I, like the rest of the idiot fans out there, believed every word when I didn’t know a fraction of the truth.
“Avery, I shouldn’t have lashed out at you. I was—”
“You don’t have to—”
“Yes, I do. I knew two nights ago that I needed to apologize, and I couldn’t find the courage to do it, because it meant admitting I was wrong,” I said. “And I wanted to talk last night, to tell you that I was sorry, but I never found the moment. And now . . . God, now I have to. No more excuses. I’m sorry.”
“I don’t understand what you’re apologizing for,” he said, and the tension in my shoulders melted. He didn’t understand, because he’d let himself believe he deserved the consequences. He was too nice to realize that it was never acceptable for someone to treat him the way I had, regardless of the circumstances. The press had victimized him for so long—he was so used to being kicked around—that he’d accepted this as normal behavior.
And it wasn’t okay. It was never okay.
“I yelled at you, but I was never angry with you. It was just the stupid situation,” I said. “It was easier to use you as a punching bag than to accept what was really bothering me. And I’m sorry. I should’ve never—”
Where You Belong Page 8
