“Thank you,” I say to him, dropping down onto a bench in front of the store. “Gia?” I take a giant sip of coffee. “Oh God.” I blow out hot air. My entire mouth is now scorched.
“Julianna? Wait, what are you talking about?” Her voice sounds all sleepy and content, while I sit here burning the crap out of my mouth, wasting my life, waiting for things to happen.
“Okay. I’m up.” Her voice sounds clearer. “Relax. First, why would your dad want you to stay with dough boy? I thought he just wanted you to get more money.” She yawns but continues before I can speak. “Something’s going down. What do you think it is?”
In the background, I hear Granger mumbling something about 3 AM.
“Rhys, wake up. This is serious. Julianna’s dad is trying to pull some kind of shady shit… Oh my God,” she screams, and I pull the phone away from my ear. Gia can be a little loud when she gets excited.
“Do you think he lost all his money? And that’s why he wants you to stay with pig boy? Don’t do it, Julianna, no matter what. Worst-case scenario, we’ll support you. Right, Rhys?”
I rub my forehead. “Okay, stop. You’re making it worse and I’m already paranoid,” I whisper. “If that happens, I’ll get a job. I have a degree.” Flipping open the doughnut box lid to grab one, I pray the fried dough and sugar calms my nerves and head.
“Mm-hmm, right,” Gia says.
I take a bite and chew loudly into the phone. “Just stop, please.” Unfortunately, my tongue is so burned that the sugar from the chocolate stings, but I keep on eating.
“What are you doing? Are you eating?”
“Yep. A doughnut.” I take another sip of coffee to swallow the fried sweetness down, toss the last half of it back into the box, and stand. “Clearly, you’re not in LA. I was thinking about getting out of New York for a while.”
“Are you okay?” Her voice completely changes from loud to quiet.
“Never better,” I respond, looking around for a homeless person to give my box of doughnuts to.
“Christ.” She sighs dramatically. “Okay, here’s what you’re gonna do. Go to our place in Malibu. Relax, watch movies. I’ll send April over to give you a massage, and we’ll be back in a couple weeks. And… don’t worry. We’ll figure everything out, okay?”
“I’m fine, Gia. Just sick of New York.” I hand the box of doughnuts to a woman, maybe my age, sitting with a blanket, a guitar case next to her.
“I’ll tell Stewart you’re coming and to not shoot you.” Gia snickers. “Kidding, but not really. Our security guards are a bit overzealous. Rhys, anything else she needs to know?” The phone is silent but for a slight gasp. I roll my eyes, ready to give the homeless woman my phone.
Instead, I say, “Okay, Gia, I’m gonna go. Tell whoever I might show up.” And I hang up. Not in the mood for any of it. I adore Gia and am thrilled she’s getting everything she ever wanted, but when you’re not in the same boat, it’s hard to avoid getting depressed.
I look down at the woman. “Here.” I dig in my wallet for a card to one of the homeless shelters I donate to and some cash. She takes it and nods, but her eyes are glazed over as if she’s lost in another world.
I walk away. Yeah, I need to get out of town. That meeting earlier, my dad, Matthew, and the lawyers, plus the fact that I can’t save the world—it’s all too much.
My phone vibrates in my hand. I look down and my pulse races.
RYDER: Go home.
I blink at the screen, then look around. How does he know I’m not home? I take a breath. Again, that strange pull. I can’t shake it, and I’ve tried. I take another sip of coffee, not caring that it’s still hot. My mouth is dead anyway, and I need the caffeine to think. I hold my hand up and a cab pulls right over.
I have zero plan, and strangely that’s freeing as I rattle off my address and settle back. I look out the window, unseeing, and make a mental note to call Diana when my mind is clearer, but not right now. I’m all over the place.
“Hello? You okay?” The cab driver turns to look at me. Confused, I blink at him. He just drove me across town, and I don’t remember any of it.
“Sorry, it’s been a day.” I laugh. “How much?”
“Thirty-eight dollars.”
I lean over. “You know what? Can you wait, please? I need to go upstairs for my bag and need a ride to JFK.”
The driver looks at his phone, then says, “Sorry. Shift change.”
Fucking New Yorkers. I take a breath. Now that I’ve made up my mind, I’m not letting anyone bother me.