Page 8 of Motion to Dismiss

“Let me know when you’re back in L.A., okay?” She squeezes my hand. “And I’ll attend your first show whenever you land a major role, too.”

“I’ll let you know for sure.” I zip up my coat and slip into the cold, walking toward the street.

I take out my phone to order an Uber back to the airport, but as I’m setting my location, a text crosses my screen.

American Airlines

Flight Alert: 1716 with service to Los Angeles has been rescheduled for tomorrow afternoon at 3:07 p.m. due to a security issue.

Stay tuned for further updates.

What the…

I consider going to the airport anyway and spending the night there, but I know it’ll be miserable.

Jeneva’s place is an option, but I’m pretty sure her boyfriend has plans for whenever she returns.

As I’m scrolling through the classmates and former associates I’ve left behind, a familiar deep voice clears his throat.

“You were really going to leave this city without telling me goodbye?” Jameson asks.

“Yes.” I look at him and immediately regret it.

My skin heats at the sight of him, as if he’s somehow become more gorgeous between now and fifteen minutes ago.

“I have a flight to catch,” I say. “Maybe we can reconnect next time.”

“All flights are canceled until tomorrow.” A slow smirk crosses his lips. “That includes yours.”

“How do you know that?”

“I got an alert,” he says, stepping closer. “Apparently someone called in a bomb threat.”

“Someone or you?”

“Do I seem like I’m that desperate to talk to you?”

“Yes.” I narrow my eyes. “Was it you?”

“We should talk in my car,” he says. “You’re more than welcome to come to my place if you need a place to stay tonight.”

“I don’t. I just made a hotel reservation.”

“At which one?”

“I…” I hold back a sigh. I can’t afford to waste any of my money on a hotel for one night. “The Waldorf Astoria.”

“You have a reservation there already?”

“No,” I say, “but I’ll just mention my father’s name if they try to kick me off the lobby’s couch.”

He pulls out his phone and taps the screen. “I’ll get you a room at the Four Seasons.”

“No, that’s okay.” I shake my head. “I don’t want to owe you anything.”

“The only thing you owe me is a conversation.”

“Then I get to decide when I give it to you.”