Turning off the computer, I stood up. I needed to think about this, about Coop. His words drove through me, over and over. He wanted his friend back. The thing was, so did I. More than anything, I wanted things to be like they were.
Until late into the evening, I lay curled up on the sofa, clutching a cushion to my stomach while I watched an old black-and-white movie.
I could ignore only the constant ringing of my phone for so long. After ten minutes of nonstop ringing, I got up and went to retrieve it. That’s what I got for leaving it in the kitchen. On loud.
“What?” I muttered, picking it up without checking the number.
“Beth.” Ivan. I sighed. Well, that’s what I get for not checking the number. There was a reason for call ID, so why didn’t I ever fucking use it?
“Yes, Ivan, what do you want?” My skin prickled at the sound of his voice. Just the thought of him made my stomach turn. I tried to focus on my breathing, but I was already feeling dizzy and lightheaded.
“Now, that’s no way to speak to your manager, is it?” he drawled. “Listen, I’ve lined you up for a movie audition. Six months in L.A. Shooting starts in three months, the girl they had lined up broke her neck. I’m sending the script over now. Take a look, and we’ll talk.”
“Fine. Whatever.” I shuddered. Ivan’s definition of “talk” differed from that of most people. I’d learned that the hard way.
“You just remember who got you where you are, honey. You might want to drop the attitude,” he warned.
I hung up the call. If I kept on the line, I’d say something I’d regret. I knew I would. It was only a matter of time before I blew up at him, and to be honest, that scared the hell out of me. Pushing the devil’s buttons was not a good way to stay out of trouble.
***
A courier dropped off the script a few hours later. I’d never done a movie. I’d never acted before at all, beyond my music videos.
Acting hadn’t really been something that interested me, but maybe getting out of New York was a good thing. Especially if it meant getting away from Ivan.
I read through the summary of the movie, and the role I was auditioning for. It was about a girl who leaves her small town for L.A. to make her dreams of becoming a singer come true.
Sounds like the back story of every wannabe in L.A.—myself included. That was me, five years ago. Only I’d been “lucky” enough to meet Ivan.
I flipped through the script, trying to decide whether this was something I actually wanted to do. I sang because I had a good voice, and honestly, it was just luck that I’d taken off the way that I had. If I stopped singing today, I wouldn’t miss it. It was something I did because I knew nothing else, and it made me enough money to be self-reliant. But not everything was about money. Hell, I was barely twenty, yet some days, I felt so old and worn, like my life was nearly over.
I need to get out of here.
Tossing the script aside, I went to the bedroom and swung open my closet. I had enough outfits to go a year without wearing the same thing, and all were designer. I picked out a coral dress that cinched at the waist, and paired it with some black sandals. I knew exactly where I was headed, and why I was headed there.
***
Digging through my purse, I found my vibrating phone, checking the ID this time before answering. My pulse quickened. It was him.
“Hey,” I
said, trying to sound casual. “What’s up?”
“Not much,” Roman chuckled. “What are you up to? Are you out? I hear music.”
“I’m at The Carousel.” I held my head high, not giving away for a second that I’d been hoping to run into him. Or the fact that my ass had been parked on this barstool for the past hour because of it.
“Oh, really?” he mused. “Waiting for someone?”
I face-palmed. His voice had that tone to it, one that clearly said I know exactly why you’re there.
“No. Just having a drink with some friends,” I retorted. Friends? Sure, me and my army of imaginary buddies were kicking things up. Could I be any more pathetic?
“Well, good for you. But Beth?”
“What?”
“Don’t party too hard.” He chuckled.