The Duet(16)

“Yes, so here is his number. You don’t have to go work for him, but don’t you think he’d have a few pointers for you since he’s gone through everything you’re going through?”

She shrugged but she still took the piece of paper when I handed it out to her.

“Are you going to call him?” I asked, when she continued to stare at the number without saying a word.

She shook her head slightly and blinked as if pulling herself out of a deep thought.

“Yeah. I’m not sure when, but I guess I will.”

When she and Grayson had first met, Cammie was a senior in high school and Grayson, who was two years older than me, was already two years out from completing his master’s degree at MIT. I can’t recall them ever getting into a fight or anything. I think if anything, their age difference was just too much. Maybe Cammie looked at him like an old, stiff loser and he just thought she was still a young, naive girl.

I watched her tuck his number into her wallet and then she glanced up at me with a pitiful smile.

“Is that honestly what you’re wearing to Montana?” she asked, eyeing my ensemble.

I glanced down and smiled. I was wearing my favorite skinny jeans with my gray cashmere sweater. I was sporting my Louis Vuitton sling-backs and I had just enough make-up on to make it look like I was wearing none at all. I didn’t see the problem.

“I always try to travel in style or I feel gross when I land,” I explained, smoothing down the cashmere.

“Do I even want to know what else you packed in your suitcase?” she asked.

I went through a mental checklist: designer jeans, high heels, a slew of nice sweaters and blouses. Summer and I had spent the day before packing anything and everything that I may have needed. The closest shopping mall was over two hours away from Jason’s house in Montana. Summer had literally shuddered at that fact when we’d Google mapped it.

“Don’t you worry about me. I’ll be fine. We’re just writing music, we aren’t traipsing through the woods.”

Cammie nodded and jutted out her bottom lip like she used to do when she was little.

“We better get going if you’re going to catch your flight on time,” she said, reaching to grab my carry on bag for me. “I can’t believe you’re flying commercial.”

I rolled my eyes. “There’s no reason to take a private plane to Montana. There’s no one coming with me.”

She nodded and frowned even deeper. “I wish I was coming with you.”

“You’re coming in two weeks. Summer already has your ticket and everything.”

I reached forward and grabbed her arms so I could shake her silly. “Snap out of it. We’ll be fine. Give Grayson a call and focus on school. The two weeks will fly by.”

“Alright. Alright, let’s go. I’ll drop you off at LAX before my morning seminar.”

…



It wasn’t until I caught my connecting flight from Salt Lake City, Utah to Bozeman, Montana that my trip started to sink in. For the last ten years, I’d stitched together a close-knit team of people to surround me: my publicist, assistant, managers, and trainers. Sure, they were all being paid, but other than Cammie, they were the only real family I had. So why was I ditching them and heading eighteen hours away from Los Angeles, to stay with a man who hated me? No, really. If he had a list of people he never wanted to see again, it would read like this:

1. Brooklyn Heart

2. Hitler



Because of my ranking on that list, I’d done a little bit of recon with the help of Summer and Sandy, and as a result my carry-on was full of house-warming gifts (aka Brook-warming gifts) for Jason. There were cookies from Milk Jar and some of this expensive shaving cream from a boutique downtown. I had no clue if he’d even accept the gifts, but I wanted to make an effort so that I wouldn’t have to worry about him murdering me in my sleep.

I’d just settled into my seat during the flight to Bozeman when a whisper caught my attention.

“Psst.”

I jerked my eyes open.

“Hey… PSSSSTTTTT. Lady!”

I glanced over to see a little boy next to me, leaning over the arm rest and nearly climbing onto my lap. (Which was actually harder than it sounded considering how spacious the seating arrangement was in first class.)

“You smell like cookies,” he said, sniffing the air around me like a puppy.

I glanced around to try and find his parents, but the only other adult on our aisle was passed out with a facemask and a pair of giant noise-canceling headphones. From her snoring level, I guessed that she wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon even if the plane suddenly started falling from the sky.