“I…” She hesitates. “Don’t know yet.”
I hold her gaze through the screen. “You let me know when you do.”
“Okay,” she says, barely above a whisper.
She yawns, trying to hide it behind the sleeve of my sweatshirt. “I should get going. I’ve got another early start tomorrow.”
“Yeah. Sure,” I say, even though I’m not ready to hang up. “Sorry for calling so late.”
“I’m glad you did.” Her voice softens. “This was nice.”
“It was.” I drag my thumb along the edge of my laptop. “Oh, real quick. I’m not sure what your plans are for the holiday, but Logan and Hannah are hosting a dinner next Thursday… Do you want to come with me? Unless—were you planning to go home to spend time with your family?”
“No. Even if I wanted to, I can’t afford a flight?—”
“If it’s a money thing, I could?—”
“No,” she cuts me off just as fast. “I appreciate the offer, but I’d never take it. Anyway, I’ll be in the studio.”
“I’m sorry, what?” I fail to keep the edge out of my tone. “On Christmas?”
“Yep. Boone ended our session today by telling me we’re workingeveryday but Monday, moving forward. When I double-checked that he meant Christmas too, his response was, ‘Is that a problem?’”
“Asshole,” I mutter. “What kind of Scrooge works on Christmas?”
“I know, but…” She shrugs. “Once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and all.”
I bite back a few choice words about her producer. I’ve been called obsessive enough to know I can’t judge someone else’s process. If she believes in it, that’s all that matters.
“Well, he can’t keep you there all day,” I try.
She presses her lips together, then catches the bottom one between her teeth again. I take her hesitation as my cue to make my case.
“It’ll be fun. Everyone’s great. I want you to meet them.” If I can wrangle a locker room full of hockey players, I can convince Summer. “I already told Ryan I was bringing you?—”
“You did?” Her brows draw together.
“Yeah. So…” I aim for casual. “Will you?”
“Okay,” she replies after a beat. “I might have to meet you there, though, depending on when I get out.”
“Great. It’ll be fun.” I already said that, but she lets me get away with it.
Her lips curve.Three.“Goodnight, Miles.”
“Night, Summer.”
I wait for her to disconnect the call, and get one more soft smile before the screen goes dark.
Four.
TWELVE
Wed, Dec 17 at 6:01 p.m.
Me:
Good luck tonight!
