"What's up?" I answered. I knew that he would be able to tell from my tone that this wasn't a great time to chat.
"Nate, I am so sorry. I know you said you have a date tonight. But you need to get on a plane in just over two hours."
My heart dropped like a stone. "What?"
"You know how the different departments in the Love Rockers show don't speak to each other? The promotions people set you up for an interview on the Scout Jemmons show tomorrow morning. They thought you were in California right now."
"Fuck."
"I know. I'm really sorry. Get packed and in a car as fast as you can, and bribe the driver to floor it. I'm emailing you tickets, and I'll get you in the express lane."
"Thanks, Dave, I–"
"Pack. Go. Now."
Dropping my phone, I felt my hands running through my hair. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." I looked up to see Trisha on her knees on the bed, looking terrified.
I ran to her, grabbing her in my arms and kissing her forehead. "I am so sorry, but I have to be packed and in a car immediately to fly to California."
She jumped up, and at first I thought she was angry. She certainly had every right to be. But she pulled her clothes back on at lightning speed, then instantly began throwing all of my belongings on the bed.
"Grab your suitcase," she ordered. Before I could even wrap my head around the fact I was leaving her, she had me packed, and had double checked every corner of the suite for forgotten notes or phone chargers. I adored how efficient she was when there was work to be done.
Trisha grabbed her purse and hurried downstairs with me. A black town car was waiting with the driver standing by the door. "Nate Roberts?"
“Yeah,” I nodded.
"Dave just sent me a hell of a tip to get you to the airport in half the time. Jump in and hold on." He was already tossing my suitcase in the trunk when I turned to Trisha.
Without even thinking, I grabbed her and kissed her. "I'm so sorry," I said. "I'll find a way–"
"Text me when you get there," she said quickly. "I understand. Work comes first. Go."
Giving her one more hot, deep kiss, I jumped into the car, looking back to see her wave as we zoomed out of the parking area. Feeling like a complete asshole, I sent her a text before I even had my seatbelt on, sliding across the leather as we took a turn at high speed.
Me: Thank you for understanding. Worst possible timing, right?
She answered me in seconds.
Trisha: Yeah. Or maybe it was the universe saying that we should slow down?
Me: NO. Not in the slightest.
Trisha: It’s odd. We know the old versions of each other so well, but in the present, we have to
get to know each other all over again.
Me: You’re right. And I’m looking forward to it.
There was a pause. I liked that she took her time, but I was dying of curiosity.
Trisha: So am I. But I’m worried that this version of me isn’t interesting enough to hold your attention.
Me: I think you’re incredibly interesting. Trust me, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted and much more.
Me: More than I deserve. More than I could dream of.
Trisha: I have to get on the streetcar. Have a boring flight.