Famous in a Small Town

Me: Ok.

Garrett: Been stuck in meetings all day. Record company wining and dining us. Will call you tomorrow.

Garrett: Are you ok?

Me: Yes. All good. Talk to you tomorrow. x

Garrett: I miss you.

Me: I miss you too.

When Harry Met Sally is my mom’s favorite movie. So I’ve seen it a time or six. There’s a scene in the film where the hero has a moment of realization. When he runs across town on New Year’s Eve at the stroke of midnight to tell the heroine the news. How he gets it now. How he’s no longer afraid. She is his special one-in-a-million person, he knows it with all his heart, and he needed to tell her straight away so they could start their life together. I’d always thought it beautiful, but I don’t know that I quite understood. Not until now.

I lasted a whole hour and a half before knocking on the door of the cabin next door. Riley answered in their pajamas, a star-covered onesie. “Miss Bennet, you shouldn’t have left the house without contacting us first.”

“I know. And I fully realize it’s the middle of the night and I’m acting slightly ridiculously. But I need to go to L.A.”

They just blinked.

“Now. Please?”

“You got it.” They turned and yelled, “Van, get your ass out of bed. We’re going on a road trip.”

I liked to think I was a cool, calm, and rational woman. It obviously wasn’t true, but I liked to think it just the same. With traffic, it was a twelve-hour trip to L.A. I offered to take my turn driving, but Van and Riley both vetoed the idea. Which left me curled up on the backseat of the Range Rover, staring out the window and thinking deep thoughts. My fingers kept tracing the old scar on the side of my neck. It had healed well for the most part. One day I might even stop hiding it.

The last time I’d done this trip, it had been in reverse and bad. A bare month after the attack, my life was a wreck. Both my job and my boyfriend were history and I was running home to hide. This time, I was running toward a possible bright future with everything I had in me.

People need to talk more about how love makes you stupid. How it makes you do wild and ridiculous things. Because four days into this relationship and here I was, traveling through the night to reach him. To ask him how and where he planned on spending, oh, say, the rest of his life. And how I was okay with moving if that was what would make him happy. Because I realized now that he was my heart and where he went, I would follow. One way or another, we’d work it out together.

Once we hit L.A., traffic was horrible, of course. There’d been discussions about flying from San Francisco to L.A., but Van and Riley had been wary of taking that route without more preparation time. I highly doubted people were that interested in me, but I didn’t want to get them into trouble, either. And this all felt like a silly romantic road-trip kind of thing, what I was doing. I stared out at the view, watching trees and mountains turn into businesses and buildings.

The buildup of houses and people was . . . whoa. After four years of happily hiding out in the hills, it was intense. City life had lost none of its hustle or bustle. Not even at some stupid hour of the morning. A long time ago, my dream had been to own a place at Venice Beach. To be able to walk down to see the ocean whenever I liked. The thought of going home when I’d spent so long dreaming of leaving the small town had been dire. Things changed. Now I loved living in Wildwood. I appreciated the community.

But if Garrett wanted to return to the city, I would go with him. Assuming he wanted me with him, of course.

Chateau Marmont was a glamorous old hotel in West Hollywood with a storied history. From Britney Spears being banned to Dennis Hopper throwing orgies, John Belushi dying, and John Bonham riding a motorcycle through the lobby, it had it all. It was a seven-story white castle-like building towering over Sunset Boulevard. Security knew we were coming. But no one, including myself, had been able to get hold of Garrett. I was doing my best not to let that freak me out. After all, he was probably just sleeping soundly alone in his own bed or something like that. I trusted him. It would be fine.

The car pulled up at the front entrance, and Van and Riley rushed me through to a lobby and bar area where there were large arched windows and wood beams overhead. Lots of comfortable plush sofas and seats and a grand piano. And several guests giving me curious looks while I hunched over and caught my breath.