“But she’s an actress,” Hayley said, crinkling her nose. “No offense, I love you, but you know thatlawyers, CEOs, and businesswomen in suits are more my speed.”
Gemma grinned. “Uh huh. So have you watched any of her movies yet?”
Hayley groaned again, shaking her head, frustration folding into amusement.
Gemma teased on, poking and prodding until Hayley couldn’t take it anymore.
“That’s it,” Hayley said, setting the empty wine glass onto the table. “It’s time for you to leave this apartment.”
They stepped out into the hallway together, the elevator ride feeling like a small rebellion against her misery.
Outside, the fading sunlight and city noise washed away a bit of the ache in Gemma’s chest. She paused when her feet hit the sidewalk and breathed it in, feeling lighter than she had in days.
“I needed this.” Gemma closed her eyes, feeling the flow of warmth on her face. “Thank you.” She turned to Hayley and kissed her cheek.
Hayley smiled softly and then said with mock sternness, “You owe me a movie night. Popcorn, takeout, the whole nine yards.”
Gemma laughed, the sound bright and a little reckless. “Deal. But you’re watching one of Caitlin’s.”
Hayley made a face, then, with the shake of her head and a roll of her eyes, she gently shoved Gemma toward the world beyond.
THE NEXT TWO WEEKS FLEWby as Gemma threw herself into routines. She started working out again, met Hayley every morning for a dose of dark espresso, and finally cracked openAtmosphere, the romance novel that had been collecting dust on her nightstand. She let herself daydream about playing Joan opposite Caitlin’s Vanessa if the book ever became a film.
Hayley’s advice looped through Gemma’s head until she finally decided to take it. She knew what—whoshe wanted, and she had to try. Not with fireworks or grand declarations, but with a soft, careful opening. She had to see if the path back was even possible.
Gemma:Hi, how's it feel to be back in LA?
Caitlin:It's fine, but I feel like I'm missing something.
Gemma:Oh yeah? What's that?
Caitlin:You.
Gemma stared at the one-word text for over an hour. Her heart battled against the instinct to protect herself. She could close the distance between them with one honest line, or retreat behind the safety of old, tired words.
Gemma:I wish you never left.
She’d decided to go with honesty. The typing bubble appeared, vanished, and blinked again, causing Gemma’s stomach to knot with anxiety. Finally, a new message slid onto her screen.
Caitlin:Well then, I think we need to make a change.
Gemma tapped the little heart on the last message, not sure exactly what Caitlin meant.
THREE DAYS PASSED, AND NOother texts arrived. Just as Gemma’s life had started to brighten with color, she felt it dull once more. She tortured herself with a dozen different explanations, all more heartbreaking than the last. Maybe Caitlin regretted her words, or maybe she had meant that they should quit speaking altogether.
Gemma returned to her routines and told herself she was moving on. Some days, she almost believed it.
Thatsunny August afternoon, Gemma was strolling through Washington State Park when her phone began to ring.
“Hey Eve,” she answered, surprised.
“Gemma, my favorite client. How are you?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Gemma said smiling anyway. They had worked together for years, so the statement may have been true. “I’m okay. What’s up?”
“Well, I hope you’re rested and ready to go because I have a last-minute offer for you.”
Gemma blinked, confused. She hadn’t auditioned for anything recently. “For what?”
