“I’ll tell her you said so.”
“You do that,” she called after me.
Wyatt followed me down the stairs to the tarmac. “You’ve got two days to get your shit together.”
“I know. I will.”
“You better. I can’t handle you giggling on the phone with her anymore. Get your girl and let me have peace.”
“I do not giggle.”
“Oh, Kenny I miss you so,” Wyatt said in a falsetto.
“Fuck off.”
We walked through the airport to long-term parking. Neither one of us liked relying on a car service after a flight. Wyatt climbed into his Alpha Romeo Spider. “I’m not bailing you out either.”
“All right, dad.”
“Seriously.”
“No arrests, no jail time, no SOS’s.”
“Good, keep it that way.” He revved his engine, then shot out of the parking lot, zipped around cars and to the ramp before I could get my damn seatbelt on.
I climbed into my Rubicon and fought my way through traffic. I loved my Jeep, but it was definitely not made for the same kind of action Wyatt’s was, nor did I trust airport parking with my Mustang, let alone a Alpha Romeo.
Besides, I had a plan for the day and that required me going into Hollywood. I hadn’t seen Kenny in weeks. In my mind I could still see her standing in her bedroom. A single lamp on the far side of her room had left everything a hazy buttery yellow that reminded him of firelight.
The only reason I remembered the light was because it had turned everything about her into burnished gold. From the endless peachy cream of her skin to the fire of her hair, everything had been perfect.
And I’d walked away.
Not because I wanted to. I would have cheerfully killed to stay there and tasted every curve, dip, and freckle. No, I left because I knew she wasn’t ready for me.
She didn’t believe how serious I was.
We knew how to have sex. And fuck, did we excel at it, but it was worth it to hold off. Even if I’d woke with a hardon every morning that could pound nails. There was morning wood, and then there was the echo of feverish dreams about putting her in whichever town I was currently staying in.
I was well aware how stupid in love I was. Now I just had to make sure she knew.
I parked across the street from the place I’d been looking for.
We Buy Gold emblazoned in neon across the top of the building. I was here for one reason. I headed to the back of the pawn shop. I passed a sea of dresses, suits, skirts, and shoes. I resisted the urge to press my face to the glass cases of instruments.
Was that a vintage Telecaster?
No.
Keep on walking.
Shit that thing was beautiful. I craned my neck back for one more look.
Not here for that, man.
I passed high end electronics and a drool worthy record player that looked like it could have been in my parent’s living room when I was a toddler.
And then I saw it.
What I’d come for.
“Perfect,” I said.
“Can I help you, sir?”
I turned to the older gentleman with a smile. “You sure can.”
9
Kennedy
I flipped over the last page of the file I’d been reading for the last hour. When I was choosing new clients I liked having physical copies of clippings and magazines to go through. A digital file sometimes didn’t show just how big, or small for that matter, a career or social media footprint was.
Ever since Bethany and Justin had put the idea of managing couples in my head, I’d been chewing on different angles on how to approach it from a business standpoint. Before I brought Carter into it, I wanted to make sure it was a viable business plan for us.
And if I wanted to make it work, I’d need to expand. That meant possibly making Carter a partner instead of my assistant. I’d been thinking about broaching the subject for months, but this was the perfect way to go about it.
I flipped open another folder. Simon Kagan and Margo Reece. With the implosion of Oblivion as a band in the last few months, there’d been a swift blowback in Kagan’s career. The good kind. Billboards and magazine spreads seemed to have his face everywhere. His was a good case to work on, especially since I’d heard Lila trying to put out fires with them all the time.
They were the perfect couple to try out my services on.
Sammy barked, dragging me out of the pile of papers on my dining room table. I looked down at my watch. “Need to go out, buddy? Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”
Sammy yipped and did a circle at the front door.
“It’s a little late for a walk. And I’m not exactly dressed for it.” I put my hands on my hips. Cutoff jeans and a concert T-shirt from my Mumford & Sons show was not exactly going out wear.