“Send your brother over there,” She plucks the ice cream from me, grimacing at how wet it has become and pops off the top, scooping out a helping with her spoon, “With what you’ve told me about him, he’ll have them done in a week.”
She isn’t wrong. “No, I’m going to manage this all by myself.”
“Proud of you,” She smiles and goes in for another scoop.
We end up polishing off the ice cream and fall asleep on the couch but at around four I wake up, a little stiff from the cramped position we forced ourselves in. Sloane’s couch issmall, big enough to seat two comfortably, but when we’re both sleepers that like to spread, it kind of feels like being crammed into a can. Sleeping while on tour was my actual worst nightmare, we slept on the road an awful lot and those buses aren’t exactly spacious when a whole crew of people are on board.
Careful not to disturb Sloane, I sit up and stretch, making sure to keep her tucked in as she remains sleeping peacefully. It’s good to see her comfortable, when she first arrived in the city, she was exhausted and afraid but the past few weeks she has settled in a little. I know she isn’t even remotely okay but she’sworking on it.
Staying quiet, I move through her house, heading to the kitchen to grab some water. There’s minimal light but enough that I can see what I am doing and after I have my water, I lower myself into the chair at the kitchen table.
I should try and go back to sleep but I know it won’t happen; I seem to be waking at this time every morning no matter how late I go to sleep. I’m an early riser anyway, always have been and the time where the sky is still dark, morning barely creeping on the horizon is usually some of my best dancing hours.
I’m wide awake, dressed for the day and on my third cup of coffee by the time seven rolls around. Sloane wanders into the kitchen, a yawn stretching open her mouth and one side of her hair sticking up from where she laid in the same position all night. She grimaces in my direction and heads robotically to the coffee machine, yawning again as she places a cup into it and hits the button.
Sloane isn’t a morning person, never has been, which is why I sit here silently while she goes about the motions of waking up and becoming a functioning human being. Although I won’t be here to witness her blossoming into an approachable woman since I have to make a stop at the house first thing this morning and then make my way across town to the studio.
I’m booked into a five-day shoot for a music video and today is day one. I drain the last of my coffee before I stand and wash out my cup and then grab the keys to my car, bidding a silent goodbye to Sloane. Iworry about leaving her after everything she went through back in her hometown, but she doesn’t like people hovering and she certainly doesn’t want pity. If she needs it and wants it, she’ll ask for it.
I pull up to my house only a few minutes later, the small front yard piled high with materials and workers coming in and out, carrying it inside. I say hello when they speak with me but ignore them mostly. Already the house is cleaner, the floors slowly being repaired and the walls replastered.
“Miss Levine,” Luke, the man who owns the construction company I hired, finds me in the kitchen. He’s young, with dirty blond hair and a beard that could use a little grooming but he’s friendly and his portfolio was impressive.
“Hi Luke,” I smile at him, “I told you to call me Savannah.”
A ruddy color blooms on his cheeks, and he quickly diverts his eyes as he replies, “What brings you round?”
Who knew telling a man to call you by your first name could make him blush.
“Just checking in,” I shrug, “I was going across the city anyway.”
“Well, we are only on day two,” He reminds me, “But everything is as scheduled, there’s been no issues so far though. You’re in good hands.”
I beam at him, “I don’tdoubt it.”
“I’ve got to get on, if you have any questions, please just give me a call.”
I say goodbye, have a final look around and then head back out to my car, hitting the road so I’m not late on set. This isn’t the first video I have made, though it is the longest, we can usually get it filmed in a day, maybe two but five? Seems a little overkill, but I don’t book the jobs, my agent and manager do, and I just follow.
Glancing in the rearview mirror, I spot a familiar Audi behind me. The way the sun beams down and the distance between us means I don’t have a clear view into the driver’s seat, but I know the car. I know the sleek edges and the matte black paint, the dark tinted windows. I’ve been in the car plenty of times and sure, it could be anyone, though I know better.
Killian is behind me.
But I don’t know why.
Pressing a few buttons, I bring up his contact information and hit call.
It rings and it rings, and it rings but he doesn’t answer.
I am not deterred and hit call again.
I keep calling, three, four, five times but still he doesn’t answer. So, I keep going, until finally, on the eleventh call he answers on the third ring.
“Savannah.” He grunts into the phone. Even standoffish and blunt, his voice sends goose bumps over myskin.
“Why are you following me?”
Silence answers me so I repeat my question.
