“Who?”
My head is on fire. “My fiancée,” I shout raggedly. “I woke up and she was gone.”
“I…wait…” There are a few clicks of a computer keyboard in the background. “Are you talking about the girl you were seen leaving the studio with yesterday? That little fireball redhead with the nice—”
“Yes. And shut the fuck up about Lola or your nose gets broken next.”
“Ouch. Jesus. Sorry.”
“I have to find her. Now. Help me.”
“Are you sure…”
I nearly crush the phone in my grip. “Am I sure, what?”
“This might have just been a one-night stand for her, man,” my agent says lightly. “Maybe she doesn’t want to be found.”
“Too bad. And no…” I shake my head to loosen the pain, but it only worsens. “No. That’s not it. That can’t be it.” I love her. “Please, she’s got this boss in Vegas and I don’t know how dangerous he is. I just need her back here. With me. Now.”
He sighs. “Let me make a few calls, okay? If she was on the show, there has to be a paper trail.”
As soon as the line disconnects, I sprint for the bedroom and put on a shirt, socks, shoes, so I can be ready to move if my agent gets some information. If he doesn’t, I’ll scour the streets of this entire city until I track her down. She’s the most beautiful woman on the planet. Someone had to see her leaving.
What if she doesn’t want to be found?
My manager’s earlier question continues to drill me in the skull while I rush through brushing my teeth. Yeah, Lola told me she couldn’t be with me longer than one night, but surely things changed since then. If she feels even a small percentage of the way I feel about her? She would still be here. No question.
Still, she never told me where exactly she works in Vegas. Never told me any information that might help me track her down, and while that won’t stop me, it’s making me wonder if I imagined the way she looked at me. Like she cared. Or more.
I can’t think like that. I can’t or I’ll go crazy.
Halfway through spitting, my phone rings on the bathroom sink. When I see it’s my manager, I answer with white foam all over my mouth. “Yeah?”
“All right, well, there’s good news and bad news.”
“Fuck.” I bang my head against the mirror. “Just tell me.”
“The bad news is, whoever filled out her application for the show put down a false Vegas address. It belongs to a smoothie shop.” He stops for a breath. “Here’s the other news. The girl who nominated Lola put a phone number on the application. I called it and she answered. I asked her if she was with Lola and she hung up.”
My throat closes up. “How is that good news?”
“Right before she hung up, I overheard a voice on a loud speaker. If Lola is with her, they’re at JFK airport.”
I’m already sprinting for the front door of the hotel room, denial a living, pulsating thing in my stomach. If I had two seconds to spare, I would probably hurl up everything I’ve ever eaten, but I can’t spare a moment. I’ve got a plane to stop.
“Find out which airline she’s on,” I shout into the phone on the way through the hotel lobby. “Flight number, too. Buy me a ticket, so I can get through security. Call in every single favor it takes, do you understand me? Call me as soon as you know more.”
I’m coming, baby.
Lola
I feel sick.
Am I doing the right thing?
Just allowing myself to be guided through the airport terminal by Denny, his authoritative grip around my elbow? On the way to the airport, he made me brush my hair forward to hide the yellow-black bruise forming around my eye and I’m keeping my head down now, just as he asked. My goal was to get back to Vegas, away from Aiden, so Denny wouldn’t be able to sink in his clutches and hurt him.
But there’s a voice inside me, urging me to confide in a kind-looking stranger. To tell them I’m there against my will. If I do that, though, I’ll be back at square one. With my parents in danger and Aiden’s career on the line.
Moisture forms in my eyes and I blink it away.
My heart feels like it is being sawed down the middle in my chest. I miss my big, vulgar hockey player with every fiber of my being. What is he doing right now? Did he wake up and freak because I wasn’t there? Or did he shrug and go back to sleep?
Intuition tells me he freaked.
That he’s looking for me.
Even as my affection for him swells in response, I know hope is pointless…
My thoughts fade as we pass by a television and I see a picture of Aiden on the screen. Are my eyes playing tricks on me? Do I just want to see him so badly that my brain is superimposing his image everywhere I look?