Promise Me

“Not Dylan. Not Matt.” I look around to confirm nobody’s paying attention to my end of this conversation. “It was Becca,” I relent. “Either Becca or her friend recorded and uploaded the video. Perfect timing to wreck my career, because Nigel called me less than fifteen minutes ago to tell me I had the job.”

An extended, presumably shocked silence greets my revelation. Finally, my father clears his throat. “Why would she do this?”

“Jealousy? Spite? Because I told her it was time for us both to move on.”

“I thought she understood how this business works.”

A flight attendant catches my eye and signals for me to end my call.

I nod. “Dad, this business involves people, not chess pieces. When you manipulate them to further your own ambitions, can you really act surprised when they turn on you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe not. Perhaps I’m guilty of tunnel vision where you’re concerned, but it doesn’t change the fact that you earned the hosting job. This bullshit bad press doesn’t have to cost you your shot. We just need to get ahead of the scandal and overtake it with our narrative before it has a chance to do any damage. I’ll place a call to Nigel to explain everything and convince him to give us twenty-four hours to resolve this to their satisfaction. The video doesn’t show you driving—or even in the vehicle—so he should be able to grant us that much. Hell, we can accomplish a lot of damage control in half that time. An interview with a major media outlet—Kit from Access Live will jump all over this. You tell the real story. Kendall will corroborate, and…”

I feel his fervor through the phone, and it’s so fucking tempting to grab the lifeline he’s holding out to me, but… “I can’t.”

“What?”

Just saying the words calms my racing pulse to a steady, purposeful rate. The flight attendant returns, and this time she’s not fooling around. Me and another asshole in the row ahead of me are getting serious stink eye. “I can’t do anything about this right now. I’m sitting on a plane about to pull away from the gate, talking to you on borrowed time. Once I hang up I’m out of the loop for at least twenty-four hours.”

“Get off the plane. Whatever you’ve booked, this is more important.”

“No.” The certainty calcifies in my bones. “Kendall needs me. She didn’t plan it, and she didn’t ask me to be there for her, but she needs me right now, and I’m not going to let her down, because I…” The words “I’m in love with her” nearly tumble out, but I bite them back, because Kendall deserves them first. “I’ve got to go, Dad.”

“Wait.” I hear his long exhale, followed by a silent moment while he struggles to choose the right words. “Being there for Kendall is more important to you than fighting for America Rocks?”

“Yes.”

Silence.

Another deep breath follows, and I imagine him loosening the knot in his tie. “All right. I understand. It’s your call. Do what you need to do.”

He’s letting me make this choice—not that he has any other option unless he can teleport me off a plane—but still. Progress.

I disconnect and switch my phone to airplane mode. The flight attendant starts her safety spiel. I close my eyes, exhale slowly, and release my grip on the goal I held in my hand for a whole fucking minute.

The plane backs away from the terminal, and it’s like I’m backing away from my dream. At this very moment, though, there’s something—make that someone—more important than a job. Nigel said as much. He told me there are some things more important than America Rocks, and I’m onto one of them. Kendall. She matters, because I’m in love with her. She’s my priority.

I hope to God I can convince her I should be hers.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Kendall

Early Monday night the doorbell rings. Mom is wrist deep in homemade pizza dough while I shred cheese so I quickly wipe my hands with a paper towel and go to answer it. Swinging the door wide, I can’t believe my eyes.

“Vaughn?”

He lifts his aviator sunglasses to his forehead. “Hi.” He smiles next, making my pulse trip over itself.

I lean against the edge of the door for support. “What are you doing here?” Now I know why I hadn’t heard from him. He was flying the friendly skies and no doubt making all the flight attendants’ and passengers’ day from his mere presence.

“I thought maybe you could use some extra support at the funeral tomorrow.”

Wow. This is one of those surprise moments life has up her sleeve that I’m both happy and confused over. Despite the uncertainty between us, Vaughn is here, standing two feet in front of me, offering his support. He didn’t have to be here. Not at all, yet he chose to be. This is better than the “I’m just a boy standing in front of a girl…” Notting Hill moment. This is a supreme gesture, one that presses pause on our debatable relationship.

Does this make my decision about where or if he fits in my life more difficult? Heck yes. But deep down, I’m bowled over by his concern and thrilled to see him.

Something of my inner monologue must show on my face because his smile falters.