“Shut up.” He cut Wes off before he named every member of the crew, but he breathed easier. “You don’t know what you don’t know. You know?”
“I think you missed your calling. You should have been a philosopher.”
He glanced out over the open space again. “Maybe then I’d be able to figure out why life turns upside down on a dime sometimes.”
Wes leaned against a bare steel beam of the unfinished commercial space and crossed his arms. He wore a T-shirt and jeans, and a headset hung around his neck. “Rubi says it’s the universe giving us a kick in the ass. Says that most people get in a groove and keep living life one way because it’s easy or familiar or whatever. And when the greater powers get sick and tired of waiting for us to take the next right step, it spins us like a top to get our attention. To make us think.”
There was a lot of wisdom there. More than Troy had the ability to absorb in his current state of mind-fucked. “Rubi is one smart woman.”
“Me,” Wes continued in that easy way of his, “I just think it’s karma giving us a kick in the ass.”
Troy bark
ed a laugh.
“Ready in five, Troy,” the director called.
“Rubi told me things went south with Giselle?” Wes half asked, half stated.
Troy’s head swung from the director to Wes. “It hasn’t even been two hours. I haven’t told anyone. How in the hell?”
“Ah, you know. You called Jax, Jax told Lexi, Lexi told Rubi—”
“Rubi told you. Criminy, you people.”
“We care, bro. Could be worse. We could loosen the hooks on your harness, let you splat all over Wilshire Boulevard.” He paused and sobered. “But seriously, I’m really sorry, man. Believe me, I know how crazy these women can make you. Took me and Rubi a long time, quite a few fights, and more than a few tears to find our groove.” He paused, then added, “Even Rubi cried once.”
Troy huffed a laugh past the pain expanding inside him until it felt like it filled every cell.
“But it’s so worth it, brother,” Wes said, slapping a hand to his shoulder. “So worth it.”
In the distance, a 747 raced down the LAX runway before angling into the sky, and Troy wondered which plane Giselle was on. Wished he hadn’t been so stubborn, so stupid, so set in his goddamned groove when she’d insisted on going back to Vegas.
He’d been wrong. He’d known it. Why hadn’t he offered to go with her?
Whoa.
Good fucking question.
Why the hell hadn’t he just offered to go with her?
“Goddamn.” He bit out the word, unable to believe he’d been that stupid. Unable to believe the answer had been right there in front of him the whole time. “Could it be that simple?”
“I don’t know what you’re thinking,” Wes said, “but my answer would be: probably not.”
That telescoped Troy’s mind out again, giving him a wider view, and Wes was right—it wasn’t that simple. She could have done the same—simply asked him to come with her.
Yet neither of them had seen it as an option.
They were so busy pulling away from each other out of fear, they hadn’t even seen the simple answers right in front of them. At least he hadn’t. Maybe Giselle had, and she hadn’t offered because she didn’t want him with her.
But there was only one way to find out for sure. He hadn’t gone after her the first time she’d walked away. Hadn’t been willing to be a target for her colleagues. Hadn’t been willing to adjust to her new way of life. Hadn’t been willing to be overshadowed by her career.
But he wasn’t going to make that mistake again, because he wasn’t that boy anymore.
And this was his chance to prove it.
“Troy,” the director called. “We’re ready.”