Into Thin Air Page 13

  He wipes his nose with the back of his hand. “You’re my problem, asshole.” His fist tries to connect with my jaw, but I duck out of the way.

  “Sam!” Ellie cries.

  He loses his balance and falls on his face. I step on his hand and kneel next to him. “Don’t ever touch or go near her again. Do you understand me?” I press a little harder on his fingers. He whimpers. “Now get the fuck out of here before I lose my patience and call the cops.”

  He gets up on his hands and knees and glares at us. There’s a gash on one cheek. Ellie runs to where her phone and purse lie on the ground.

  She whips out pepper spray and aims it at him. “I warned you before, Cooper. Stop harassing me. I’ll get a restraining order if I have to.”

  I turn my cap back around and walk over to her. Once I’m at her side, I press her arm down gently. “You don’t need that. Please go back inside your building. I’ll wait until he leaves.”

  She doesn’t respond at first, then she stuffs the pepper spray back in her bag and stomps away.

  It takes a few minutes for Cooper to stagger off. Ellie doesn’t seem like the type to hang out with guys like him.

  I turn the corner and find Ellie pacing back and forth near the entrance. “Stella, is your arm okay?” I ask as I approach her cautiously.

  She freezes and glances my way. Her icy glare almost knocks me over. “So, you know my name. Thanks for your help, but why are you here?” She sounds like a lawyer with that interrogative tone, but her dark green eyes glisten with fear and anger.

  Definitely not the reaction I was hoping for.

  “If you’re looking for your precious girlfriend, she’s not here, and I don’t know and don’t care where she is. And if you’re here to help advance her modeling career or influence her mother’s divorce case with your godly presence, you’re talking to the wrong person.”

  I pull my head back in shock. “What’s with the attitude? I came here to see you, not because of Jenny or the divorce case. I have nothing to do with that.”

  She cocks her hip and crosses her arms. “And why would you come to see me?” A tinge of red breaks through her sweet freckles. She doesn’t intimidate me.

  “Why are you so bitter toward me? I just protected you from that guy!”

  She raises her chin. “Do you want a medal or something? Another one to add to your shelf of fame? Or do you expect me to melt at your feet like one of your groupies?”

  I’m speechless. Why does she hate me so much? This certainly isn’t how I planned our conversation.

  “Hey, I came here to see how you were doing after you fainted the other day. And to talk about the airport. Is that so bad?”

  We move to the side as someone pushes open the door to leave her building. “You didn’t seem to care about me then. Why would you now?”

  I move closer but not close enough that it’d be awkward. “I’m sorry I left. I think I took off for the same reason you fainted. I was so shocked at you standing in front of me, I didn’t know what to do. And that’s when I remembered what happened at the airport.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” She looks at her watch and turns away. “I need to go.”

  “Please don’t go. If you didn’t recognize me, you wouldn’t have said you’re alive. And you called me Sam, like you know me.”

  She pushes loose curls away from her beautiful face. I want to kiss the perfect lips that she keeps pressing together. The tight bun in her hair begs for me to let it down. This fire in her is a huge turn on—something I didn’t see in my dream. The electric spark between us is still there, but she’s acting like she hates me.

  So is the spark there because I imagine it is, or are we really attracted to each other?

  “I know your name because your girlfriend said it nonstop. She said Sam, but then she corrected herself. She calls you Samuel.” She mimics Jenny’s hand movement and then crosses her arms. I try not to laugh because it’s perfect. “I fainted because you were the last person I spoke to before the explosion, not because you’re some famous soccer player as your girlfriend claims. Sorry—I’m not a big sports fan. I wouldn’t know you from Adam.”

  “That was the last thing that came to my mind. Jenny said you thought I was a pilot. Why would you think that?”

  A woman pushes her way through the glass doors and stops when she sees Ellie. “Oh, there you are, Stella. I left some messages on your desk. See you tomorrow.”

  I pull my cap lower to cover my face.

  “Thanks.” Stella waves and smiles brightly. “Have a good night, Dora.” But as she turns back to me, her smile vanishes.

  “So why did you think that?”

  She blinks several times. “Think what?”

  “Why did you think I was a pilot?”

  “Oooh. That.” She glances at her watch again, then over my shoulder. “When I met you, I thought you looked like a pilot with your dark suit. We were in an airport. I guess I was wrong.”

  I nod, wishing that wasn’t the real reason. And maybe it isn’t.

  “The doctors said I was lucky I came out of it with only a concussion. I hit my forehead against the floor, I guess. This is where the last evidence is.” I point to the little bump and scratch that remain on my forehead.

  Her gaze caresses it for a few seconds, then her facial features soften and her shoulders relax. “I was unconscious for a couple of days but nothing else. The day you saw me faint was the first day I was back at the office.” She looks at the ground. “I guess we were both lucky,” she says with a soft sigh. “I try not to think about it too much.”

  A phone starts to ring, and she rummages through her bag. “That’s my mom. I hope my phone didn’t break after it smashed on the ground. I didn’t even check it. Ah, here it is. The screen isn’t cracked, so that’s good.” She swipes the screen several times, but nothing happens. She turns it over, observing it from all angles.

  Her phone cover has a sea turtle on it. My insides twist like a towel being wrung dry.

  Chapter 23

  Ellie

  “Damn. I missed her call. We try to talk at five, every day. I usually take a break around now and then go back to the office.” The phone rings again. “Listen, it’s my mom. I need to call her from my desk. I have to go.” There. That should get me out of here. I don’t like this emotional yoyo I experience when I’m near him.

  “Well, okay… don’t let me keep you,” he says softly.

  Damn that velvety voice of his. Every bit of protection I managed to build around my heart just dissolved. Why do I keep fighting myself? Because you think he’s the guy in your dream, but he’s not. He’s a typical celebrity boy toy.

  “I’m glad to see you’re doing well.”

  “Oh.” I pause. “Thanks for helping me with Cooper. He’s been a problem for a little while now, but I don’t think he will be anymore, thanks to you. I hope not, anyway.”

  “He was either drunk or on something. Either way, he’s trouble. Be careful. Call the police if he shows up again.”

  We stand in silence for a few seconds. I rock on my heels, wishing he would keep talking.

  “I fly back to LA tomorrow morning.”

  “Really? I hope you aren’t nervous. There’s no way I’m going near an airport or a plane anytime soon. Anyway, this sounds stupid to say, but… it was nice to meet you, considering the strange circumstances.”

  He holds out his large, strong hand for me to shake. It still fits perfectly together with mine. The fireworks explode through my veins and go straight to my pounding heart.

  I tug my hand away like I was stung.

  He draws back. “I’m sorry. Did I squeeze too hard?”

  Make up an excuse. “No. A jolt of pain went up my arm. Probably because of Cooper.” Liar. Well… it did hurt, though.

  This internal battle is killing me. I want to jump into his arms. I want to cry because I’m no longer living in my fantasy. I want to scream because I love him but I’m not supposed to. He�
�s not my Sam. I need to walk away.

  “I might be relocating to Seattle.”

  My heart flutters with hope. Put on your mask. Don’t let him see the excitement in your eyes. Leave.

  We’re interrupted by his phone going off. He looks at the screen. “I’m sorry. Let me take this call for a second.” I nod. He walks a couple feet away from me. My ears tune out everything except his voice.

  Is he talking to Jenny? If he is, I don’t want to know, and I shouldn’t be talking to him anyway. Time for an escape. I search through my bag for one of my business cards and scribble my personal number on the back. I don’t know why I’m doing this, but I like torturing myself lately. I know I’m playing with fire.

  I tap him on the shoulder and hand him my business card. He pulls the phone away from his ear. Before he can react, I say, “Here’s my card if you need any legal advice from the firm.” I shove it in his hand. “Thanks for stopping by.”

  “Stella Crimson…” He reads my name from the card like it’s a sensual pleasure. “It was nice meeting you too.” His voice reels me in like a fish on a line, but somehow I manage to break away.

  My heart has taken over any kind of rational reasoning. I’m doomed.

  Chapter 24

  Sam

  My chest heaves rapidly. I didn’t expect to be so nervous in the LA airport. At Seattle, I was in departures, not arrivals. There was no baggage claim, and I was surprisingly calm. It felt like any other day. And I was fine in the air, which is also shocking because the helicopter crash went through my head several times.

  But since I entered the baggage claim area, I can’t stop looking behind me. I know they said the explosion was an electrical failure and not a bomb, but I’m still searching for strange packages or pieces of luggage stashed in a corner somewhere. Even after I grab my bag and head for the exit, the paranoia doesn’t fade. I can’t help it—I’m swerving away from the garbage cans.

  I dial my sister’s phone. She picks up after two rings. “Sam!” she exclaims. “I haven’t heard from you. How did the rest of your meetings go? Are you back in LA?”

  I cover my left ear to hear Cass better. The traffic is too loud outside the airport. “Hey, Cass. Are you working from home today?”

  “Yeah. What’s up? I can hardly hear you.”

  “Can I stop by? I’m leaving the airport now.”

  “Is something wrong?” Her voice heightens with concern.

  I wiggle out of my jacket. “Maybe. I need to talk to you, to somebody. Get your dream books ready.”

  “Oh, this is going to be good. See you soon,” she squeals, before she cuts the call.

  ∞

  “Hey there! You look much better.” She ruffles my hair. “I kinda like your hair a little shorter. That bruise is almost gone too. Do you have any more pain?”

  I rotate my left shoulder. “Just my typical shoulder pain. Other than that, I’m physically better. Have you ever had a panic attack? I think I just had one walking through the airport.”

  “No. But JT has them randomly right before he performs on stage. The doctor said you could experience some kind of anxiety after the explosion. If it happens frequently, you should see someone.”

  I shrug my shoulders. “Is JT home? Maybe I can talk to him about it.” Cass’s husband is a famous musician.

  “Yes, but he’s locked up with the band in the music studio again,” she grumbles. “I probably won’t see him for days, so it’s nice that you’re here. Want a beer?”

  “I could probably use something stronger, but I’ll settle for a beer since I need to drive home.”

  “You got it.” She pats me on the shoulder. “Go up to the roof. My stack of dream books is already out on the bar up there. I put out some munchies too, if you’re hungry.”

  She may be my younger sister, but she acts like she’s my mother sometimes. I always tell her she’ll make a great mom when she has kids. Better than our parents, for sure. They left me a message on my phone to get better soon. That’s all. I can’t say I expected them to fly all the way over here from Australia since I wasn’t in serious condition. But to only leave a message and not even call again? That’s whacked. It’s to the point I don’t care if I never speak to them again. I haven’t told them anything about my possible career change or that I might move to Seattle. Maybe Cass has.

  “Here you go.” She places a chilled beer bottle for me and a glass of white wine for her on the bar they had built into the side of the roof. She pulls out an iron barstool and sits down. Her cat, Josie, meanders around the legs of the stools.

  “Cheers.” We lift our drinks.

  “So, electric blue this time?” Cass dyes the ends of her straight black hair a different color every month.

  She fluffs her hair. “Do you like it?”

  “It suits you. Just like all the other colors you’ve had before. I can’t imagine you without colored hair.” She grins.

  Cass and JT live outside LA in Santa Monica. They bought a huge ranch and had it completely renovated. This rooftop is one of their entertainment areas. The stairs to get up here were built into the side of the kitchen for easy access. It boasts a beautiful view of the ocean, and the sunsets are so spectacular that professional photographers have asked to take pictures from here. Their pool and grounds look like they’re straight out of a garden magazine.

  They transformed the entire basement into a studio for him and his band. It’s soundproof, which she insisted on. Another wing of the house contains her workspace. She’s an editor for a large publishing house.

  I live in a three-bedroom condo nearby. A couple of my teammates also live in the community. I had a big house once, but since I travel so much with the team, I decided to downsize. I won’t need to take much with me if I relocate to Seattle.

  “So tell me all about your interviews first,” she says as she stabs a black olive with a toothpick.

  I lean against the bar. “What can I say, other than they went well. I was almost overprepared. The soccer team is in good shape and finished fourth this season. The university campus is huge and has a great reputation. It’d be a lot of pressure on me because they want to see the team improve next season. I’ve never been a coach before, so that might be my downfall.”

  I crack open a pistachio and pop the salty nut into my mouth. I wash it down with the beer.

  Cass rolls her eyes. “Don’t give me that. You’ve coached for the LA Galaxy youth soccer camps for the last three years. And you have your USSF coaching license.”

  I tilt my head to the side. “Yeah, but… I’ve never coached a college or major league team. That’s completely different.”

  “Listen, if they didn’t think you were qualified—or able—I don’t think they would’ve had you come for an interview and then ask you to stay a couple more days for further discussions.”

  “Maybe.” I take another long swig of beer so I don’t have to talk.

  “Why don’t you seem excited? Don’t you want the job?”

  My phone vibrates in my pocket. I check who the message is from. Jenny, of course. She’s been calling and texting me nonstop. I’ve responded a couple of times with short answers, but I haven’t spoken to her since I left her in the hotel room. She’s called Jackson a few times too, but he said he let her calls go to voicemail. And Diana’s the one person she’d never call.

  A few teammates have sent me messages too, asking me where I am since I’ve been so quiet. I know Jenny’s pushed some of them to try to get hold of me. She’s friends with some of their girlfriends.

  “So who’s that?” Cass plays stupid while spinning her bracelets on her wrist.

  I grin. “Who do ya think?”

  “Trouble in paradise? Or did you finally dump her?” She swats a fruit fly away from her wine glass as if the fly were Jenny. I chuckle to myself.

  “Things are more messed up than ever. A lot has happened since I talked to you last. It’s one of the reasons you haven’t heard from me. It’s fucki
ng with my brain. I swear, I don’t know who I am anymore.”

  “Maybe it’s from the accident. A near-death experience tends to make people reevaluate their lives. They see things differently.”

  “Or it could be a midlife crisis.” I look at her from the corner of my eye.

  “Give me a break. You’re only thirty-two.”

  “I’m at a changing point, Cass. I’m about to retire from something I love. I’ve played soccer my entire life. I can’t just turn this passion off from one second to the next.”

  “I don’t get it. Why would you have to turn it off? If you get this job, you’ll still be involved with soccer. You’ll be teaching players what you know. Soccer players aspire to be like you. Share your experience and talent with them.”

  “I wish it were that simple. I have to deal with Jenny. She’s not coming with me if I go. Even if I don’t go, we’re through.”

  “Does she know this? Was it ever an option to go with you? You haven’t been dating that long.”

  “I hadn’t really thought it through, but like I said, things are different now. Jenny and I had some problems after I got out of the hospital and went to the hotel.”

  Cass shimmies on her stool. “Do tell,” she says, then rests her chin in her hands.

  I tell her about the paparazzi. “Diana confirmed pictures were plastered in the tabloids. You know I avoid social media at all costs.”

  Then I explain to her how Jenny wanted me to walk into the legal firm with her and how she was the one who leaked the information.

  Cass’s lips purse as she crumples up a napkin like it’s Jenny’s head. “She’s such a bitch. Please tell me you dumped her ass in Seattle. I don’t understand why you let her get away with this crap.”

  “I couldn’t mentally deal with her and the drama she would’ve caused if I did it in Seattle. I was there for my future, not for her. I’m telling her tonight.” I swirl my beer.

  “You’d better. I wish I could be a fly on the wall.”

  “Anyway. There’s more… and it makes things even more complicated.”