Seeing Lea’s wince, I narrowed my eyes on Sandy. “And Lea will do it right.”
She brightened and gave me a grateful smile.
“But—”
“Not ‘but,’ Sandy. I have an amazing assistant who can fix this very minor issue. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve been here since five and I need sustenance. Lea, take care of this?”
“You got it, boss. I’ll talk to the set dec. She should have the polaroids we took for continuity.”
I winked at her, ignored Sandy’s scowl, and turned on my heel to leave.
I wasn’t the type to yell. I didn’t boss people around; I delegated and asked politely. The only time I was less than polite was when someone gave me shit, but even then, I never yelled. I was always calm. In a room filled with lots of people, I was reserved. A little shy, even. Somehow, people always mistook these personality traits for timidity, perhaps even spinelessness.
I enjoyed proving them wrong.
The relief of getting in my car was great. I wasn’t lying when I said I needed sustenance. But I also just needed a breather. Sleep failed me last night after I’d hallucinated Jamie.
Not hallucinated.
There was definitely a guy standing in that doorway last night. It just hadn’t been Jamie.
Jamie was long gone from my life, and after what happened to him here, I doubt he’d ever return to LA.
Driving out of Studio City, I headed east through Toluca Lake, following the freeway toward Glendale. I lived in Silver Lake now, but memories were pulling me home.
When would Glendale stop being home?
When would someplace else finally feel like home?
Would it ever?
I shrugged off my melancholy and concentrated on finding a parking spot several blocks from the Brand.
Brand Boulevard was so familiar to me, but I hadn’t visited in at least two years. My favorite panini place was still there, so I stopped in to grab a bite to eat, to fill the empty, nauseating hole in my gut. While I people watched, I was too aware of the time. It was fifteen-minute drive to the lot and I only had half an hour left on my break. I considered where to go before heading back.
It hit me as soon as I stepped out onto the sidewalk.
Years ago, Jamie and I would come here and hang out at Brand Bookshop. It closed about a year after he went to prison, not long after Lorna passed along his letter. The one that shattered me.
However, Asher had mentioned there was a big-chain bookstore in Americana, the mall. So that’s where I headed. I took the long way around, following the path along the edge of the large musical, dancing fountain. I winced at the sight of the large, gold-plated sculpture of a mostly-naked man. It was a recasting of the famous D-Day sculpture, “The Spirit of American Youth Rising from the Waves,” by Donald Harcourt. There were water jets circling the sculpture and now and then they’d come to life around it.
One of my favorite photos was of me and Jamie standing in front of that sculpture, the jets of water rising behind us. Skye had taken it not long after we’d started dating. Jamie had his arm around me. While I beamed at the camera, still giddy with disbelief that Jamie was mine, he stared down at me with a look of adoration.
I’d teased him about it, but I secretly loved his expression.
The photo was still tucked away inside a shoebox in my closet.
Picking up my pace, I strode around the fountain and headed toward the bookstore. The store was air-conditioned, and that was always welcome on a day like today. I breezed past the coffee shop on the first level and took in the space. It was huge, three levels, with escalators. I searched for signs for the mystery section and made my way toward it. However, as I casually strolled, scanning all the aisle signs, a table in the center of the first floor caught my eye.
A sign on the table read SIGNED COPIES.
And sitting on a section of it were two upright books facing outward.
Brent 29.
Signed.
And there were only two copies left.
I hurried over to the table and snatched up the crisp hardback edition. The booklover in me felt a heady rush of happiness welcome on a day I felt melancholy.
“You know, we only put these out this morning and they’re already nearly gone,” the cashier said as she rang up the signed edition. “We