Maybe this won’t be so bad. I start to relax, but then, out of the corner of my eye, I catch it. Three rows up, there’s a row with three women, a blonde holding her phone trying to snap a photo of me. I decide the only thing I can do is smile and wave, so that hopefully they leave me alone the rest of the flight. They whisper-squeal, then proceed to chat over the flight attendants’ instructions.
At last, the familiar whoosh fills my ears as the plane takes off. Colorado’s just a few hours away. I’m almost there, I think leaning back in my seat, typing a couple of different messages out. I don’t know why I do this to myself. My thoughts are a mess. I swipe out of my text messages, deciding to send something once I land, then squeeze my eyes shut in frustration. It’s just nerves.
I know how to handle nerves—distract myself. I pay for the Wi-Fi and try to look up the hotel, but, of course, the internet seems to not be working. Go figure. It’s going to be a trip from hell. I can sense it, but it doesn’t matter. I’ll endure a terrible trip for a chance to see Vivienne again. I pass my time on the flight watching a movie. The man next to me nods off once we’re in the air, and the woman in the window seat spends the entire flight side-eyeing me as if I might start filming her for content any second. I’m half-tempted but resist the urge. The girls continue to take photos of me the entire flight, which gets annoying after photo number one hundred. I’m about to ask the flight attendant to make them stop when a voice comes over the intercom.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve arrived in Denver, Colorado. We will begin making our descent. Welcome to the Mile High City.”
We land, and everything goes smoothly. I only have my carry-on and a backpack, so I head right to the rental car pick-up. It’s a busy travel day at the airport. There are tons of people everywhere. The line at the pick-up counter is already four people deep when I step into it. I’m trying really hard to keep from being recognized. Paranoid at any moment, all it would take is for one person to spot me. Then boom—chaos woulderupt. I cross my arms, impatiently. A second person appears at the desk to help clear the line.
It’s my turn in no time. I show them the reservation and they send me to the parking garage to wait for the car. When the car arrives, I’m shocked to see a silver minivan pull up to the loading lane. This can’t be my car. I look around. There’s no one else out here waiting but me. The employee steps out of the car, motioning for me to come over. I do so hesitantly, dragging my feet with each step as I approach the abomination of a car.
“I think there’s been a mistake. Do you have any other cars available?” I ask.
He laughs, typing into his iPad. “It looks like this is the only available unit we have. Everything else is reserved.”
I say nothing. Of course it’s the only available unit. It’s just my luck.
“Did you want me to go ahead and cancel it?”
“No,” I say a little too loud, not realizing my voice would carry. I clear my throat. “No. That’s okay. Thank you for looking.”
I digitally sign for the car, load my bags, and get in. The guy is still standing there, waiting for me to drive away. I pull off, then immediately stop in a parking spot once I’m out of view. I punch in the information for the hotel to my GPS. At the very least, I’ll do a drive-by, but if it’s not up to my standards, there’s no way I’m checking in. It’s over an hour drive from the airportto get there, and I have to drive the most embarrassing vehicle ever made. My manager calls right as I drive by the Lakewood Comfort Lodge. I’ll definitely not be staying there. I pull into a mostly empty parking lot and take the call.
“Hey, Todd,” I grumble, annoyance lacing every word.
“Cas, how’s Colorado? Did you have a nice flight?”
“Let me guess, you already know that I didn’t because those girls released a kraken-level load of photos from our super fun flight together.”
“This little adventure is already compromised. The paparazzi knows you’re there, and you’re on your own, Cas,” Todd says.
“Well, isn’t that just fucking lovely? I asked really nicely for a low profile. Are we going to put any of the blame on your precious assistant, Arty?” I snap.
“Arty will not be blamed. He did the best he could. You fail to understand that’s not the type of assistant Arty is, but he’s been trained to know it’s important to keep the talent happy. You told him you had a special assignment for him, and he interpreted that as keeping the talent happy.”
“Oh, you’ve got be fucking kidding me,” I yell.
“No, I’m not fucking kidding you, Cas, and you better watch it. You forget who does all the hard work of making you look good.Now, if you’re done with your little tantrum, I’d like to discuss my reason for calling you.”
“Fine, make it snappy. I need to find a new hotel unless you want the headlines to read:Famous Rockstar, Cas Wilder, Eaten Alive by Bedbugs While Staying in Colorado for ‘Private’ Business.”
Todd snickers, then clears his throat. “I’m calling to let you know I’m headed downstate for a relaxing weekend at a vineyard. I’ll be unreachable. Do not disturb me, and remember the rules, Cas.”
“What rules?” I scoff.
Todd sighs, annoyed. “Do not add to the population. Do not subtract from the population. Do not go to jail, but in the event you do, I’ll cancel your contract and leave you there to sort things out yourself.”
“Thanks for always having my back, Todd,” I grumble. “Manager of the year for sure.”
“Be a good boy, Cas. Have a nice weekend. Bye.” Todd hangs up.
I punch the steering wheel angrily, then instantly regret it, cradling my hand. So the paparazzi knows I’m here—honestly, it can’t get any worse. I guess first thing’s first: I need to find a new hotel. I run my hand over my face. Maybe I’ll do a quick drive-by of Vivienne’s place, just to check on her, and find something close by. I can do a nearby search from her neighborhood. I pullopen the file of information I’ve been collecting about her and type her address into the GPS. I’m another twenty-five minutes away, but it will be totally worth being this close to her again.
Her house looks just like it did online. It’s in a really nice part of town, probably custom-built in the fifties or sixties, and from the looks of it, there’s a pool in the backyard. Damn. I’d work from home and follow in my dad’s footsteps too if I were her. I crack my knuckles. But I’m not her, and I actually enjoy being the center of attention most of the time. While I sit at the top of the hill watching her house, I begin my search for a new hotel.
I’m looking for something nice, but extra close to Vivienne’s place. It doesn’t take me long to find something and book it. Only seven minutes away. I think I’ll clean up and change my clothes from the flight, then maybe come back and do some work on the plans for tomorrow while I keep an eye on her place. Maybe I’ll even work up the courage to sneak around back and peek in a window or two. It sounds like a fantastic way to spend my first night in Colorado.
After a much-needed shower, wardrobe change, and dinner, I’m ready to head back out to Vivienne’s place. The sun is only just beginning to set, and I can see exactly why people fall in love with Colorado and never leave. I’d relocate my base here just to be Vivienne’s live-in pool boy. Smiling at the fantasy playing out in my head, I shake myself free from it and snatch the keys to my stupid minivan. At least it will blend into the neighborhood without looking suspicious.
