One Wish

CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO

Eli

Isit on the plane, biting my nails as I wait for the pilot to get the clear for takeoff. It’s currently eleven in the morning, the earliest I could possibly get a flight. I snuck out of the house at six this morning and used that time to head for the gym before going for a swim. The workout helped clear my mind a little after the revelation and subsequent fight with Kendra. I know she’s pregnant and she seemed scared by the news, but how do I know that it’s all genuine? It’s making me question who out of the two of us deserves an Oscar the most, she’s so goddamned good at acting lately.

And this is the whole reason for this mission. I need to find the coffee lady and ask her if she has ever met or spoken to my wife, what was said, and how Audrey felt about it. I’m assuming they must have talked, because the parallels are all too coincidental not to be true.

Finally, the pilot gets the all-clear and we make the two-hour journey in relatively good time. A car is waiting on the runway to pick me up.

It’s as beautiful a day at Sheridan County airport as it is in LA, the sun shining and people smiling. My driver for the day, who’s called Finnegan, jovially boasts about his three children and five grandchildren, with a sixth on the way. For the few minutes we are driving, it’s nice to get lost in someone else’s world. A happier world. A family man’s world. Something I have craved since I realized that easy pickups lead to such a lonely existence. I had once hoped I would find that in Kendra—the supermodel who blew me away with her beauty—not realizing there was this ugliness living within her. I was stupid to get caught up in her spell. Stupid to think that, when she became career and image focused almost instantly after our honeymoon, it was just a temporary thing; that she just needed to get back into the swing of things after a week on holiday. A few days turned into weeks, which turned into months, and then years. At first, I did enjoy being out with her, attending functions, parties, and the like. Being photographed with her and feeling proud seeing these photographs published, the media swooning over how much of a wonderful couple we were and how beautiful our babies would be when we had them. It was that which prompted me to have that conversation with Kendra, and when I did, I was appalled by her response. “Getting fat and stretch marks, ugh. You must be joking. Not to mention the fact that all a baby does is sleep, poop, and cry every five minutes. Nuh-uh. No thanks. I’d rather stick red hot pokers in my eyes.”

And now, two years down the line, she’s pregnant with another man’s baby.

You seriously can’t make that up.

We get to Full of Beans in just fifteen minutes since I was able to land at an airport so close to the quaint little town where Audrey works. I put on my baseball cap and glasses, hoping that they will shield me somewhat from the public. I don’t mind signing autographs, and I certainly don’t mind when people want to stop and chat. What I can’t stand is when mobs of people think they can attack me in the street and even worse, touch me in places they shouldn’t. That’s the downside of being a famous actor. A select few that spoil it for others who don’t get a chance to talk to me.

I thank Finnegan as I get out of the car and glance up at the familiar logo sweeping across the top of the café. Inside the big front windows are a fair few customers, no doubt having a quick bite for lunch. I walk in, trying my hardest to keep my head down low so as not to attract too much attention. Thankfully, people seem to be too engrossed on their laptops or iPhones to notice me.

“What can I get you?” a friendly, familiar voice sings as I approach the counter. I don’t have her name as she never gave it to me. She was too busy trying to get me to sign an autograph for her amazing boss and friend who just so happened to be a major fan of mine.

Her bright smile, equally as bright as her red hair, causes me to match it. Then she squints in recognition.

“Wow,” she says. “You look an awful lot like…” She squints some more, then laughs. “You’re one of those lookalike models, aren’t you?”

Under normal circumstances, I would say yes. However, this time, I cannot lie as I need to desperately speak with Audrey. Glancing around, I don’t see her anywhere, which is disappointing.

Waiting to get nearer to her before I speak, I lean forward and whisper. “Don’t say anything, but it’s really me… Eli Prescott.”

She laughs out loud, throwing her head back. “That’s too funny. What would Eli Prescott be doing here twice in the space of three weeks?”

Out of the corner of my eye, the jar of buttons I questioned Audrey about still sits there exactly where I saw it last time.

“Is your boss here? Audrey… Audrey Stone?”

The red-haired girl squints at me. “How do you know Audrey?”

She still doesn’t believe me, it seems.

“I met her here three weeks ago when I was here for my movie launch, remember? You and I spoke, you asked me to do an autograph for Audrey, and I ordered a triple venti soy no foam latte?”

Realization hits her and her eyes become like saucers. She rears back and gasps loudly. “Holy shit!”

“Yes, that’s the one. Triple venti holy shit.” She squeals, so I put my hand out. “Shh, please. I don’t want too much fuss.”

“I’m sorry,” she replies, still excitable, but then her smile fades. “If only Audrey was here. She would have a fit.”

Heart speeding up a little at the mention of her name, I question further. “Where is she? I would like to talk to her.”

Just the mere mention of this changes her persona completely. A darkness shrouds her, causing her vibrant red hair to look sullen. The sudden switch has my stomach dropping with unease.

“Around three weeks ago.” She then frowns and continues. “Well, it was the same day she met you, in fact. We went out for a meal for her twenty-first birthday.” She sighs. “She was so happy that day… wouldn’t stop smiling because of you.” She tries a smile, so I smile back, even though my stomach is twisting at the prospect of what she’s telling me.

“It was after the dinner when she was on her way home… a car lost control, mounted the sidewalk and hit her.”

Oh, God! Please don’t tell me that it killed her.

“That’s terrible,” I chime in, almost panicked. “Is she… okay?”