“I’ll say hello and then I’m gonna head out, but you owe me an e-mail,” he continued.
“Wha—”
He placed his finger to her mouth. “Your screenplay. I’ll read it before we leave town.”
Kenzie’s expression softened. “’Kay.”
At least he’d have something to do for the rest of the night to get his mind off of everything that hadn’t happened. Merry Christmas and all that.
7
Chapter Seven
Christmas Eve
The baggage carousel sat unmoving in the small airport. Tucker said they were an hour away from his ranch. Kenzie dropped to a brown pleather chair at the luggage claim. She’d tucked most of her hair into a baseball cap, so only a few wisps of her distinctive red fell to her shoulders. Minimal makeup and a big puffy down coat completed the disguise. So far, other than a few fans who’d approached her at LAX, everyone had left her alone. Her Clark Kent, hide-in-plain-sight disguise either did its job or, more likely, it was Tucker—who glowered at anyone who came within four feet of her.
He had no disguise.
Which meant everyone had to know she was Kenzie.
So, yup. It was probably Tucker and his grumpy glowering that kept fans away.
There were also only a handful of people on the plane. Kenzie had a hunch Tucker had bought up the seats himself. Most of the other passengers had scattered when they landed, having only brought carry-on bags with them.
A Charlie Brown-style Christmas tree sat on the reservation desk nearby while “Run Run Rudolph” played over the airport speakers.
She and Tucker had found an easy rhythm with each other on the flight. Almost like friends. The other night they’d ordered Chinese food, and over steamed chicken and vegetables, she’d chilled and not chilled with him while they’d watched what felt like a bajillion episodes ofArrested Developmentbefore Leah had showed up to check on her and ruined it all.
Kenzie glanced to the main doors of the airport. No Tucker. After they landed, he took off to find out where his brother had left his truck in the parking lot. There was practically a blizzard going on outside, so he’d insisted she wait for their bags inside the warm luggage claim area.
She scribbled some dialogue into the notebook she always carried. Little snippets of ideas for her latest screenplay distraction always popped up at the strangest times.
Her phone pinged in her hand.
She glanced to the most recent message. Her mother was pissed. Kenzie was okay with that.
A little thrill of adrenaline at being disobedient pulsed through her.
The party won’t be the same without you. Please reconsider. Guests are attending to see *you*.
She should really just block the number.
The chat bubbles pulsed, lord knew what her mother was typing. It didn’t matter though. Kenzie was in Colorado because she had approximately one week to convince Tucker to do the damn song so she could salvage her career.
She typed out a response to whatever nonsense her mother was about to spew.
Having a great time with Tucker! Have fun at your party. No cell service at the ranch. Call Leah if you need anything. She knows how to reach me.
Kenzie stared at the screen. To send or not to send? The message would make her mother pop an aneurysm. She absolutely loathed Leah. Mostly because she’d taken her place as Kenzie’s manager. Also, because Leah didn’t take her shit. Even more than that, her mother couldn’t stand being out of touch with her daughter. They had a messed-up relationship, sure, and her mother thrived on Kenzie’s fame. She didn’t quite know how to show she loved her daughter, so hovering was her method of choice.
Kenzie’s phone dinged.
This is such a disappointing way to end the year.
You’re such a disappointment, Kenzie. That was what her mother meant.
Kenzie froze, her gaze fixed on the screen, her finger poised over the send button on the message she’d prepared. She did better when she took a break from her parents. Her mother was…well, her mother. And her father was…well, her father. He was the guy who’d left when she was a baby and then showed up after her first movie debuted when she was twelve, ready to reinsert himself into her life.
