Lovestruck in Los Angeles (25 page)

Chapter Twenty

Thomas woke up before I did the next morning. I didn’t realize he was out of the room until I smelled the scent of coffee coming from downstairs. I stretched in bed, the memory of everything that had happened the day before washing over me. I found I could remember the meeting without my face flaming in embarrassment. That was an improvement.

I didn’t want to have to say goodbye to Thomas, didn’t want to think about how quiet and empty the massive house would be without him. But I didn’t want him to go without saying goodbye, either. So I pulled on my robe and joined him in the kitchen.

“Morning,” he said, watching me walk down the stairs toward him.

“Morning.”

“Didn’t mean to wake you.”

I went to the cupboard for a mug. “It’s okay. I wanted to see you off.”

I poured my coffee, aware of his eyes on me. “It’s only for a few days, Lizzie.”

I turned to him and attempted to smile. “I know.”

I joined him at the breakfast bar, sipping my coffee while he ate a buttered slice of toast.

“There’s something we should probably talk about before I go.”

There was something in his voice that sent a little shiver through me. Like he was afraid, too. “What do we need to talk about?”

He sighed, rubbing his hand across his neck. “Look, Lizzie, I didn’t want to tell you like this. Not after yesterday. But I’m afraid you’ll hear about it when Heidi gets here—”

“What?”

He looked up at me, his eyes tired and weary. “I was offered a role in another movie. The same studio. It’s… well, a pretty big deal. Summer blockbuster. Major contract.”

I swallowed. “And it shoots here?”

He nodded.

“When?”

“Next month. The lead just dropped out, and they don’t want to delay shooting.”

Tears came to my eyes. We were supposed to go home next month. That promise had been my lifeline the last few weeks. “How long?” I whispered.

“Probably four more months.”

I looked down. I couldn’t believe this. With everything else happening, everything putting pressure on us, the idea of being back home, in Thomas’s normal, cozy flat, with our friends, had been the only thing getting me through. I wasn’t sure if I could handle four more months of this. Of him never being home. Of being here alone, without any friends or family. Of fighting.

“I haven’t decided anything,” he said. “It’s not just my decision, Lizzie. I want us to talk about this.”

I nodded, but I wasn’t convinced. He would have to do what was best for his career, wouldn’t he? It was the thing I had always promised him, that his career should come first.

“Damn it, this is why I didn’t want to tell you now.”

“It’s okay,” I said, rubbing the tears from my eyes. “I’m glad you told me, rather than risk me hearing it at work from Heidi. Thank you.”

He didn’t respond, just watched my face. “You know I love you, right?”

I managed a small smile. “Of course. I love you too.”

I hugged him at the door, hating the sight of his duffle bag at our feet. He kissed me softly, and I was glad. Fight or not, I didn’t want him traveling away from me without a last kiss. Before he left, he looked down at me, his eyes searching my own. He looked sad. And more than a little afraid.

“I’ll see you in a few days.”

I nodded. “Be safe.”

Then he was gone, and I was alone in the giant, empty house.

Heidi and Imogen were working in the city that day with our new agency partner’s West Coast team. I was supposed to join them. Thomas was barely gone for five minutes before I realized I couldn’t bear to face it. I sent a quick text to Heidi, letting her know that I was feeling sick again and couldn’t make it.

It wasn’t really a lie. I did feel sick to my stomach. But there was no way I could stay in that house all morning by myself.

After a quick shower I changed into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, and pulled my wet hair up into a ponytail. I filled a travel mug with more coffee, slipped my kindle into my purse, and headed down to the garage.

I drove to the beach on Point Dume where Thomas and I had enjoyed our first lunch in Malibu, all those months ago. It was deserted on a Thursday morning, a woman walking her dog a quarter mile down the only company.

I stretched out in the sand, thinking I would read for a while and get my mind off things. Instead, I stared at the water, wondering what I could possibly do now.

I didn’t want to stay in L.A. Not for another four months, that was for sure. And I honestly wasn’t sure Thomas and I would survive it if I did stay. Would it be more of the same? More fighting? More distance? But what would happen if I left? And where would I go? To London, without him? Back to Detroit?

I shuddered, thinking about it. Part of me wanted nothing more than to be back in my parent’s house, where I could talk to my mom and have her help me figure it all out. But it would be too much like admitting defeat, going back there without Thomas. My dad had said about a dozen words to me since I left in August. Could I expect that to change at all, if I showed up on their doorstep?

And would it be any better for my relationship with Thomas for us to be apart? It hadn’t worked out so good for us the last time.

Maybe I can handle four more months
, I thought morosely. Yes, since we had come to L.A. things had changed for us. Thomas was under a lot of pressure, which was understandable. More concerning for me was the way he buttoned up about it, not letting me in. His long hours were another problem. He’d worked hard in London, but at least there I’d had more friends. I had never felt alone or abandoned when he was at work.

Maybe you’re just being a baby
, I thought. So your boyfriend isn’t around. Take some control of the situation.

But I had tried to do just that by focusing on my book, and look at how that turned out.

Maybe the problems were bigger than our location. Whether we were in L.A. or London, I was still going to be the girl who only got ahead because of her famous boyfriend. Could I handle a lifetime of feeling judged? If I ever got a book deal, would I be able to enjoy it, or would I always wonder, deep inside, if I had earned it on my own?

My phone rang, startling me from my depressing thoughts. I pulled it from my purse, barely looking at the screen. The phone was half way to my ear before I realized that it was a Detroit number on the screen.

“Hello?”

“Lizzie, it’s Maria.”

I knew something was wrong before she even stopped speaking. There was no way Maria would call me for anything other than an emergency, not after all this time. And there was something there, in her voice, some absence of the usual conviction and self-assurance she usually greeted the world with. She sounded almost…vulnerable.

Something was definitely, definitely wrong.

“Who is it?” I whispered.

There was a pause before she answered, just long enough for my dad’s face to flash into my mind. Oh, God. He worked too hard, had since he was way too young. And he ate so much fried food. Was it his heart?
Please, God, not his heart.

“Mama.”

I frooze, the blood in my veins turning to ice. “No.”

Maria was still talking, but I couldn’t take it in. Something about Mama passing out in the kitchen. They thought it might be a stroke.

No
.

“Is she…is she stable?” I asked, my voice sounding strange in my own ears.

I heard a strange sound on the other end of the phone. It took me a minute to realize what it was. Maria was sobbing.

“She’s critical, Lizzie.”

A wave of horror rushed up inside me, threatening to take me over. This couldn’t be happening. It could not. Maria was still crying on the other end of the phone, and I felt frozen. I should be doing something, should be springing to action, but the fear and the shock had a hold of me.

“Come home, Lizzie,” Maria said, the pleading in her voice breaking through the wall I felt holding me back. “Please come home.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.” I stood, looking around the empty beach for someone, something to help me, my mind running with the things I needed to do. Buy a ticket. Get to the airport. Find Thomas.

“Hurry,” Maria whispered. “Please hurry, Lizzie.”

Chapter Twenty-one

Thomas wasn’t answering his phone. “Pick up, pick up,” I muttered, tapping my fingers impatiently against the steering wheel. “Come on, Thomas.”

Once again, the call went to his voicemail. I cursed, tossing the phone aside. I knew he was probably in the middle of the shoot, away from his phone, or else the reception was bad out on location, but the logic of it didn’t change the annoyance I felt. I needed to get ahold of him, needed to talk to him before I got on the plane. Why couldn’t someone just answer the damn phone?

It rang on the seat next to me, making me jump. I fumbled for it, praying it would be him. “Thomas?” I yelped, when I finally got it to my ear.

“It’s Sofie.”

The tears that I’d been too scared and shocked to cry before suddenly welled in my eyes. “Sof.”

“It’s going to be okay,” she said, her voice absolutely steady. “You need to have faith.”

“Are you at the hospital?”

“I am. Everyone is here, sweetie. She has so many prayers right now, so much good energy heading her way.”

I closed my eyes briefly, relieved that they were all together. I wanted to be there with them so badly it felt like a knife in my gut.

“Where are you?” she asked.

“I’m driving to the airport.”

“You’re driving? You shouldn’t be driving, Lizzie. You’ve had a shock.”

“I was alone when I found out. I called a cab and they said it would be an hour. I couldn’t wait that long.”

“Do you have a ticket?”

“Yeah. My flight leaves in an hour and a half.”

“Okay. Just take deep breathes, okay? And drive careful.”

“I will.” I drummed my fingers against the steering wheel, needing to dispel some nervous energy.

“What about Thomas?”

“I can’t find him.” I couldn’t keep the bite out of my voice. “He’s working on location and no one is answering his phone.”

“Call Heidi. Won’t she be able to get a message to him through the studio?”

I cursed under my breath. Such an obvious solution. “I’ll try.”

“Okay, I’ll let you go then. Call me before you board.”

“Okay.” I paused, wanting to somehow explain to her the whirl of emotions I was feeling. I needed her to comfort me, needed something to ease this fear. “Sofie…”

“I’ll call you if we hear anything. She’s going to be
fine
.”

I nodded, trying to keep the tears at bay so I could see the road in front of me. “Okay.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

I hung up the phone with shaking fingers.
You need to get a hold of yourself.
You have to get home safely
.

I took deep breaths, concentrating on the traffic in front of me, until I knew my voice would be steady enough to talk again. Then I found Heidi’s number in my contacts, hoping she’d be able to reach Thomas for me.

***

When my flight landed in Detroit, I immediately turned on my phone, saying a silent prayer it would be full of good news.

There were three texts and two voice mails. None of them were from Thomas.

I scrolled through the texts. One from Callie, letting me know she’d heard and she was praying for us. The second from my brother Sam, giving me the address of the hospital and telling me that Mom was in surgery and there was no news yet.

It’s better than
bad
news
, I reminded myself, but I found no comfort in the thought. I pressed the voicemail button, holding the phone to my ear.

“Lizzie, this is Heidi. I’ve been trying Thomas and everyone I can think of at the studio. I think they’re just out of range. The shoot was pretty far out in the mountains. We’re going to get the message to him, I promise. Try not to worry.”

The second was from Imogen. “Lizzie, I’m so sorry about your mum. I’ve arranged a car to pick you up at the airport in Detroit. The driver will be at luggage claim. Call me when you have news. You’re in my prayers, Lizzie.”

I felt choked up all over again at her thoughtfulness. Not having to find a cab or go to the car rental desk took a huge load off my shoulders. I sent her a quick text.
Just landed. Thank you for the car.

I stared at my phone for a minute, filled with a terrible fear that something had happened that my family didn’t want to tell me about through voicemail. I rubbed my fingers along the rosary beads in my pocket, an action I had repeated incessantly since boarding the plane, thankful that I remembered to grab Thomas’s Christmas gift from my dresser in Malibu. I didn’t know if I should I call Maria. Would Sofie be most likely to answer? Finally I dialed my brother’s number. Sam would be straight with me.

“Lizzie,” he said, his voice full of relief. “Are you home?”

“I just landed.” I squeezed my eyes shut, letting the sound of his voice wash over me. “Sam, how is she? I have this horrible fear something’s wrong and you guys don’t want to tell me over the phone—”

“There’s no change, Lizzie. I swear it. She’s still in surgery.”

I breathed out deeply. “Okay. They haven’t let us off the plane yet, but I’ll come straight there.”

“How are you getting up here? Shit, I should have come to get you.”

“No way would I let you leave the hospital. There’s a driver waiting for me.”

“Oh, thank God. I don’t like the idea of you driving.”

I was quiet for a minute, twisting the rosary between my fingers, wishing I could tell him how scared I was. Wishing he could reassure me, the way he always had when I was little. “Sammy—”

“I know, sis,” he said, his voice gruff. “I know. Just be safe and get up here, okay?”

“Okay,” I whispered.

As soon as I hung up, the airplane doors opened. I said a small prayer of thanks that I had opted to use the household credit card to book my flight—in other words, Thomas’s credit card. First class meant I could disembark first. And I didn’t want to waste a single second.