“I’m starting to think the below-market rent comes with strings attached.”
“With Penelope, everything comes with strings attached.” She wraps her arms around herself. “She’s always watching and collecting information.”
I think about what Penelope said at the gym.Ask her why she really left. Ask her what she told me the night before she disappeared.
I still haven’t asked. Part of me doesn’t want to know. Part of me is afraid that whatever Delilah told Penelope will change everything.
“Hey.” I set down the guitar and pull her into myarms. “Whatever she thinks she has on us, it doesn’t matter.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know that I’m not going anywhere.”
She relaxes, just a little. But I can feel the weight of whatever she’s carrying, the secret Penelope keeps threatening to spill.
I hold her tighter and wonder how long before it all comes out.
We spend the next few hours pretending everything is fine.
We sit in silence and talk about Jo and Dean’s wedding, the flowers and the venue and Dean’s surprisingly strong opinions about cake flavors. We avoid any topic involving the label or LA or what happens next.
It’s pleasant but also exhausting.
Around noon, Delilah says she needs to get to the shop for a bridal consultation and some arrangements to prep. I walk her to her car with the gravel crunching under our feet.
“Tonight?” I ask.
“Tonight.”
“I’ll cook.”
“Please don’t.”
“I’ll order in.”
“Much better.”
She kisses me, long and slow, the kind of kiss that feels like a promise and a question at the same time. When she pulls back, her eyes are searching my face like she’s looking for something.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing. I just...” She shakes her head. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“I’ll always come back.”
She nods, but there’s something in her expression that says she’s not sure she believes me. That hurts more than I want to admit.
I watch her drive away, one hand raised in a wave she probably can’t see.
Then I head inside where my phone is buzzing again and reality is waiting exactly where I left it. I pick up.
“Diane.”
“Oh good, you remember me.” Her voice is crisp with impatience. “We need to talk. The label set a meeting for Thursday, and they want you there in person.”
“I just got back.”
“And now you need to go again. This isn’t optional, Levi. They’re talking about invoking thecontract clause. The one about professional obligations and failure to perform.”
