“My sister will be here by four. It’ll be a couple of hours,” she faltered.
“Go. It’s not a problem, really. Text me when you land.” The woman nodded, resolute, and began throwing clothes into a bag. Hannah took them out and folded them, giving some to the two older kids to fold as well. The little one, a three-year-old, was playing on the bed by the suitcase and seemed happy enough.
It was only after the neighbor had been bundled off in a taxi to the airport and the kids were eating macaroni and cheese in Hannah’s previously spotless apartment that she realized her phone was gone.
“Caroline, honey, have you seen my phone?” she asked the oldest child lightly. The girl shook her head, her mouth full of pasta.
“I seed it when Max putted it in the bag,” The middle girl chimed in.
“What?” Hannah asked, a sinking feeling in her stomach.
“Max putted it in the bag. You let him play the bird game on your phone and when he was done, he packed it for Mom.”
“An iPhone? With a purple case?”
“Yup. Maybe he thought Mom would like the game and play it on the airplane or something,” the girl suggested helpfully.
Hannah’s fists clenched. She wanted to scream and possibly to spank the child who saw it happen and didn’t rescue her phone. She needed that phone!
She took a long, cleansing breath and calmed herself forcibly. She wasn’t going to spank the neighbor’s kid, and it wouldn’t do any good anyway. She glanced at the clock and knew the plane was in the air by now. She squeezed her eyes shut, reminded herself she could get those e-mails off her laptop. She’d just have to get a new phone, have that one deactivated. Which meant going to the cellular provider and explaining the stupid situation to a likely even stupider human. That meant more time out of her studio.
The aunt arrived sooner than expected and took the kids home with her, thanking Hannah profusely. Hannah lied that they’d been no trouble at all.
She was changing out of her usual yoga pants and baggy tee into clothing suitable for public consumption. Her jeans were too tight again, and she muttered imprecations as she wriggled in and barely managed to fasten them. It was called a muffin top, she knew that much, although hers was more likely comprised of Singapore noodles from the place down the block that delivered. Shrugging, she buttoned a white blouse over her Singapore noodle top, but it didn’t hide the bulge.
While Hannah was debating whether to bother with lipstick and mascara, her doorbell buzzed. That had better not be the aunt trying to give back those phone bandit children, she thought as she swung open the door. Hannah’s younger sister Becca stood in the doorway, bouncing up and down.
“I got the part!” she beamed, her lush blond waves bobbing up and down with her enthusiasm. “Well, not the actual part, but I’m understudy and maybe she’ll fall and break a hip or something. She’s really old to be the lead. She’s over thirty.”
“I’m over thirty, Bec. That’s great, though. When do you start?”
“Rehearsals start tomorrow! I’ve got to go home and learn my lines. You’ll never guess, though--what’s even better is Chris finally asked me out.”
“The line cook at the place where you wait tables?”
“No, that was Benito. I’ve been done with him for weeks. Chris is the owner.” She emphasized ‘owner’ as if it were ‘President’ or something equally impressive.
“So you’re basically going to date your boss.” Hannah got Becca a bottle of water and prepared for the latest tale of epic romance, inevitably to be followed by the sequel…the anecdote of utter betrayal.
“I’m not dating him. We’re moving in together.”
“I thought he just asked you out?”
“That was like three days ago. We’ve been together ever since. You should see his place. His loft is gorgeous; tons of closet space and a Jacuzzi tub. Last night he washed my hair in the tub. It was soooo sexy.”
Hannah grimaced at the image.
“I really think I’m in love with him, Han,” she said seriously.
“Then I’ll have to meet him if he’s that fantastic and comes with a Jacuzzi. Think he has a brother with a sauna for me?” she teased.
“No, he only has sisters,” Becca said solemnly.
“Let’s have dinner this week. I’d say tonight, but I have to go downtown to the cell phone place.” She groaned.
“Here, let me fix it. I have the same model,” her sister offered.
“Can’t. It’s at cruising altitude headed for LAX.”
“What?”
“My neighbor had a family emergency and I went over to watch her kids while she packed, and one of them stuck my phone in her bag so it’s gone.”
“That’s why you should never agree to work with children or pets.”
“I thought that was advice for actors.”
“It makes sense for everyone, doesn’t it?” Becca said sagely.
“I guess. But I do kind of like cats.”
“You are so not getting a cat. We’ve been over this. I will not have you becoming a crazy cat lady. You’re already reclusive and single. Add a cat and you’re a cliché.”
“Thanks for looking out for me,” Hannah said wryly.
“If you need a phone, I have one you can use.”
“You need your phone. Don’t be silly.”
“Of course I need my phone. This is an extra. A friend of mine gave it to me and I don’t need it. Here, you have it.” She dug in her monstrous handbag until she produced a disposable cell phone. “It’s pretty basic, but it should serve the purpose until the neighbor can send yours back. Here, I have a charger for it. I threw away the international power adaptors…”
“Thank you. It seems a little strange that someone gave you all that—”
“Oh, he was getting a new phone and just gave me this one,” Becca fibbed, not wanting to tell her sister she’d accepted a booty call phone from a guy in a bar last week. She didn’t want a lecture. She fished the charger out and handed it to her sister and programmed the new number into her own phone.
“I’ll talk to you later. Text me with a time for dinner this week. I want you to meet him.”
“Thank you, Bec. Congratulations on the play.”
“I’m excited about the play but really, it’s nothing compared to Chris and me finding each other after all this time,” she said dreamily. Hannah barely repressed an instinctive eye roll.
She found her neighbor’s cell number written on an envelope and texted her about the misplaced phone. Hopefully all would be well with Bill, and the woman could mail her phone back to her soon. She opened the contacts on her laptop and started entering numbers in the new phone. Now at least she could get back into the studio without having to go out. She shucked off the tight jeans and considered ordering pizza tonight instead of noodles.
Chapter 3
Jasper
“That’s right, Miss Hollingford, number nine on the list. Rebecca, actress, 27. Tonight at the Blake, say eight o’clock,” Jasper told his social secretary.
So far, the project had worked like a charm. Hot and cold running blondes at the touch of a button. Last night’s text had delivered a stunning lab assistant to his favorite sushi place in a barely-there bandage dress. She wouldn’t eat, swearing that there were bacteria in raw fish, so he didn’t even have to buy her dinner, just a dirty martini. Tonight he wanted someone light and fun. An actress sounded just right, although 27 was a little on the elderly end of the spectrum for his taste.
Jasper had had a productive day, finalizing the acquisition of two more promising competitors in the wind energy industry. He didn’t care much about green energy, but he liked to breathe and figured it was easier to make a profit off people who were healthy and generating income to buy his other products. It seemed a sound investment. Better than those e-cigarettes he’d passed up; although they were gaining popularity, he still thought they looked ridiculous. He hoped the actress didn’t smoke plastic cigarettes or anything else…he couldn’t stand the taste.
At eight, Jasper was sitting at the bar at the Blake in the same suit he’d worn to work. If it had been a date or an event, something where he had to worry about the impression he’d make, he would have gone home to change. As it was, he was able to work straight through until 7:45 and still make it to his rendezvous on time. He congratulated himself again on the sheer convenience of his planning…investing in a hotel with a lux bar close to the office, hiring a secretary and ersatz bagel boy to orchestrate his social life. It was good to be king, he mused complacently.
At 8:10, his actress had not arrived. He called Miss Hollingford with instructions to text the woman again. At 8:20, he demanded the number and texted her himself. There was no response, and certainly no delectable blonde on the menu at the Blake Bar. Exasperated, he texted again five minutes later. Didn’t she realize his time was valuable? If she showed up by 8:30 and apologized, he’d still sleep with her, he decided magnanimously. If she showed up by 8:40 and was suitably gorgeous, he might even buy her a drink first, although to his mind she had already wasted the getting-to-know-you courtesy quarter hour with her appalling lateness. He knew he should give up and return to the office, but he was reluctant to admit that his system had failed. It was a matter of pride now. Even though he could be at the gym or signing off on a leveraged buyout. Irritated beyond the telling of it, Jasper texted again. It felt good to plague her with obsessive reminders. It was satisfying somehow. He didn’t even admit the possibility that she’d discarded the phone or forgotten to charge it.