After she hung up with Jasmine, her nerves buzzing, she power walked her way out of the airport on shaking legs, doubling back when she passed a bookstore to pick up her own copy ofNight Call.
…
The hotel they were staying at for the duration of the shoot was clearly chosen for budget over comfort: scratchy carpet, confusing abstract art, thin comforter that she definitely shouldn’t run a black light over. As Lilah dropped her bags and stripped down to take a quick shower, she brattily wondered if their accommodations had any connection to the undoubtedly outrageous cost of hiring Jonah Dempsey to direct these episodes.
The schedule had them hitting the ground running—the first table read was scheduled less than an hour after they arrived at the hotel, in one of the conference rooms downstairs. Lilah threw on a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt before rough-drying her hair, and her phone buzzed with a text on the bathroom counter next to her. When she leaned over to see who it was, she felt an unexpected thrill of nerves.
FUCKFACE:What room are you in?
She thought about ignoring it, but her curiosity won out, and she compromised by responding with the minimum amount of effort.
LILAH:Why
FUCKFACE:I have something to give you
LILAH:If it’s what I think it is I’m not interested
FUCKFACE:Don’t worry, they confiscated that at customs
LILAH:?
They confiscated your dick at customs?
FUCKFACE:I don’t know where I was going with that one
LILAH:Is that what you said right before they took it away
FUCKFACE:Not that I’m not having the time of my life with this
but are you going to tell me your room number or what
Lilah took a long moment to respond, turning off the blow dryer and flipping her head upside down to twist her hair into a loose bun.
LILAH:816
A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door. Lilah opened it to find Shane, carrying a cardboard box she’d recognize anywhere: glossy pink with green flowers around the border.
“What is this?” she asked, even though she already knew. He glanced down at the box as if to double-check.
“It’s donuts,” he confirmed, looking back up at her.
“Why?” was all she could manage. He must have gotten them before they’d left, she realized dizzily, and hid them from her even as they’d sat next to each other on the plane.
He looked a little abashed. “For, um. For your birthday. It’s on Tuesday, right? I thought about waiting to give them to you, but they’d probably be hard as rocks by then. They did get a little squished in my suitcase, though.”
Lilah gaped at him. “Oh. Uh. Thank you.” She took the box from him, and an awkward moment passed between them. Inthe silence, his stomach growled audibly, and she fought not to crack up as he winced.
“Sorry, I haven’t eaten since before we got on the plane.”
“Do you want one?” Now that he mentioned it, she was starving, too.
His glance flicked over her shoulder. “For here or for the road?”
“We have a few minutes, right?”
She stepped aside and he walked past her, his lingering glance telling her the gesture wasn’t lost on him. She shut the door, placing the box of donuts on the counter next to the TV. She broke off half of a maple walnut and nibbled on it, leaning against the dresser, feeling jittery in a way she couldn’t totally blame on low blood sugar. He gravitated toward the vanilla-lavender again before settling in the armchair next to the window.
They ate in silence for a moment.
