For Us (The Girl I Loved Duet 2)

Finally, it sends.

I wait, and wait, and wait, and there’s no response. I close my eyes, because it’s late and wherever he is, he’s probably asleep. But as soon as I close my eyes I feel the phone vibrate against my skin. He answered. My artificially powered heart starts to pound. I can’t look at it. What did he say? I didn’t even think about what he would actually text back. I’m going to throw up.

I pull the phone up and swipe to open it, and my stomach falls. The text isn’t from Peter. It’s an automated response, simply telling me that this number isn’t in service anymore. He’s gone, and it’s too late, and I don’t know how to feel about that.

I guess I don’t have any choice now. I have to move on.

10

Peter

Present

Amber calls cut on the last shot of the day, and my body relaxes. I’ve never been so aware of a person, even when I was actively pursuing her. I walk off the set and grab a bottle of water, only to feel a hand come down on my shoulder and turn to find Michael standing there. I nod. “Hey.”

“I ran into Clay Markham on the way in, he said everything looks amazing.”

“That’s good.”

“It really is. They’re pouring a lot more money into advertising, and the network is going to do an early research showing of the pilot for some industry people later this month.”

I laugh. “Does that mean they’re going to make us reshoot stuff?”

“Not if the pilot is good, which I hear it is.”

Opening the bottle of water, I take a sip. “Good.”

“Be more excited, Peter. A good showing will mean more investors, which means a bigger budget for shooting and marketing. You know how this works.”

“Yeah, I do. I’m happy, I promise. Just…focused.” Focused is good. Focused is something that he’ll buy.

Michael gives me a look. “What’s going on with you?”

“What are you talking about?”

He gestures up and down, like he’s indicating my whole body. “I don’t know you seem…more moody than normal. Between this and you disappearing for two days—”

“I didn’t disappear.”

“Well…”

Taking another sip of water, I pin him with my eyes. “Michael, I didn’t disappear. Not answering my cell phone because I want to clear my head isn’t disappearing. You’re being dramatic.”

“Okay, well it’s definitely something.” He takes a step closer and lowers his voice like he doesn’t want anyone else to hear. “Are you having problems on set? Anyone on the crew? Because if you are, tell me now. The easiest time to get them replaced is now when the show is still an unknown. But after the pilot showing or release, if it’s as popular as we hope, it’ll be a lot harder because of all the press attention.”

“What? No, I’m fine with the crew. Everyone is good. I’m fine.”

“But Peter—”

“Michael.” I put my growing frustration into my voice. “Believe it or not, it’s not actually your job to manage my mood. I’m fine. Please let it go.”

Because like hell am I going to get into another argument about Amber. I don’t need another pissing contest between Michael and me right now. Especially since I’m the one that will win anyway, and it will only make me more angry. Michael has done everything for my career, but the more pushy he is about my personal life and my feelings, the more our relationship chafes. If it keeps going like this, I might have to reconsider it completely.

He doesn’t look happy, but he backs down. “Okay. Clay is hosting a party at a bar tonight since everything is going so well. The whole crew is invited, and I’ll make sure everyone knows about the invitation.”

“Where is it?”

“He rented out Fantasia,” he chuckles. “Clay Markham at his finest.”

Fantasia is a bar known for its over-the-top spectacle and crazy nights. From the little I’ve seen of Clay, it fits his personality perfectly. “Open to the public?” I ask. A party is one thing. Going to a club where regular people might be is different. I’ll have to be a representative of the show and on my best behavior.

“Public, no. Clay’s friends, yes. So there will be industry people there.”

That I can handle. “I’ll be there.”

“Good.” He claps me on the shoulder again. “Maybe you, Amber, and I can find a few minutes to have that conversation that we missed at dinner.”

“Sure,” I say, even though I don’t see why she’d want a creative partnership with me since she’s unsure if she wants any kind of partnership with me.

I down the rest of my small water bottle and toss it into the recycling bin next to the table. Given the way Michael is constantly moving, I expect him to grab his phone, be swept up in an email, and be washed away on a tide of electronic things he has to do. But he doesn’t.