CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Hunter
Ichecked myphone about a dozen times and Holly still hadn’t let me know how her meeting with Star Martin went. Had her boss changed her mind and not fired her after all? I kind of hoped not. The job seemed toxic. I didn’t want Holly to have to put up with that bitch.
Why hadn’t she texted me?
We’d been texting on and off since I dropped her off so the sudden silence felt off. By seven in the evening I broke down and tried to call.
Straight to voicemail.
“Hey, Hol… it’s me. Hunter.” What if she was blowing me off? “Ah, just wondering how things went today. Making sure you’re still up for tomorrow.” I waited a second. “Call me when you get this.” And almost without thinking. “Miss ya babe.”
I checked the volume on my phone and then set it on the counter. My meeting with P.R. had been eye opening.
Star Martin had made a name for herself by exploiting anyone she could get her hands on. I couldn’t imagine anybody willingly going on her show. Mia showed me tapes of a former Bronco quarterback being eaten alive. As a result, he’d ended up being suspended and then traded at the end of the season.
They broadcasted pictures of him with prostitutes who’d gone on the record to saying he’d done drugs with them. The pictures were old and he’d eventually tested negative for drugs, but the damage had been done.
Career totally fucked.
She had others to show me too. She wanted me to know exactly what I would be walking into. I seriously considered just duct taping my mouth for the entire date. Mia said it wouldn’t be a bad idea to bring along a chaperone.
Sounded good to me.
Maybe gran would come. I grinned.
At the thought of gran, Holly jumped right back into my mind.
I picked up my phone. Still nothing. What the fuck?”
Three hours later and I was starting to get pissed. Worried. Pissed. Back and forth. When I went to bed, I set my phone by the bed. This felt wrong. This wasn’t her. Was she ghosting me? Nobody ghosted me.
Holly wasn’t the type.
I flipped my pillow over and punched it down.
I’d told her we’d go hiking tomorrow after my workout. Said I’d pick her up. She hadn’t cancelled. I’d go by her house tomorrow. Maybe she had a perfectly reasonable explanation for not texting. Maybe she’d dropped her phone in the tub or something.
I tried to convince myself of this. Such a catastrophe made the most sense. That had to be it. How many times had she dropped stuff, knocked something over, or tripped this weekend? My little Andretti was no ballerina. I laughed when I remembered how she’d rolled both of us off the side of the bed.
Yep that was it.
I relaxed feeling better but worry still niggled at the back of my mind.
I’d go by her house tomorrow after my work out. I was probably worrying over nothing.
Famous last words.
Woke up. Checkedmy fucking phone.
Nothing.
Even my run didn’t clear my mind this morning. Phone went in the tub. Or the toilet. I just kept telling myself this. Otherwise she’d answer. I tried to zone out on my music as I ran through the still sleeping streets. This was pissing me off though. Maybe it wasn’t her fault, but f-u-u-ck. She was under my skin and I didn’t like that anybody could distract me so much.
I drove to the training center determined to focus on my workout. I wasn’t just pushing weights. I had to isolate specific muscles. Balance.
By the time I’d completed everything on my schedule I’d almost pushed her completely out of my mind. One of my best workouts in a long time.
