Never Tied Down (The Never Duet Book 2) Page 4

  “My mind tells me different things every day. One day I feel like I’ve finally gotten over the hardest part of all this, but then the next day I wake up crying and missing Marcus so much, it feels like he just passed yesterday.” I shook my head. Grief was a nasty thing. “But lately, I’ve been feeling pretty solid.”

  “She even looked up Riot on the Internet today,” Ella supplied, then looked at me with wide eyes, expecting me to be upset she’d mentioned it. I wasn’t. This was girl talk. I was a little sad my friends thought they had to walk on eggshells around me. I made a mental note to try to be more open with them.

  “Images even,” I added, giving Ella a smile.

  “Oh, lord,” Megan said.

  “She did great,” Ella praised, giving my hand a quick squeeze.

  “You know what? I totally did. I looked at those pictures and I responded the way any ex-girlfriend would, all swoony and full of regret, but he’s hot and I couldn’t help it. But you know what the most important part of this story is?” I looked back and forth between Megan and Ella expectantly. “Huh?” I asked again, more insistently.

  “What?” Megan asked, giving me what I wanted—audience participation.

  “I didn’t cry. I didn’t cry and I didn’t have a woe-is-me pity party.” I said those words with such pride and satisfaction. It was, indeed, a milestone. Any girl would attest to the fact that the day you could look at pictures of your ex-boyfriend without a breakdown was a good day.

  “Well, hot damn, chica. If we didn’t have a tiny baby with us, I’d take you to a bar and buy you a shot,” Megan said with a laugh.

  A wave of confidence rolled through me; something I hadn’t felt in a while. For whatever reason, in that moment, I felt like I could take on the world. I could move forward with life and still be a productive member of society. I would miss Marcus forever, but being sad all the time would never bring him back. I had two choices: I could be sad forever, or I could try my hardest to be happy. I might not ever be as happy as I’d been in the last few months of his life, I might have hit my peak, but I could still lead a full and happy life. Or I could at least try.

  That feeling lasted all of twenty-four hours.

  Chapter Four

  He’s Looking Down On You

  Kalli

  The next day, as I was leaving the studio of the theatre company I was working for, I got a call from my agent, Lucy.

  “Kalli, I’ve got the best news for you. Are you sitting down? You need to be sitting down for this.”

  “Okay, give me two seconds to get into my car,” I said with a slight laugh. Her excitement had my belly flipping over with nerves. I had no idea what she had to say, but it sounded like good news. “All right,” I said, right after closing the door. “I’m in my car. Lay it on me.”

  “You have just been offered a permanent position as chief costume designer on a new sitcom which will begin filming in a month!”

  “What?” There’s no way that was a true statement. I misheard her. Or she misspoke. Or I’d been drugged. I was high, obviously. “What did you say?”

  “Full-time, long-term, permanent position as chief costume designer, Kalli. The holy grail of showbiz jobs. The triple crown. The giant belt thingy those wrestlers fake fight over.”

  “Holy shit,” I whispered, breathing hard and rapidly.

  “Holy shit is right, Kalli. You’ve been doing great work and the industry is noticing. If I were you, I’d try to negotiate the salary a little, but that’s up to you. I think they’ll budge a little.”

  “What are the terms?”

  “They’re offering full medical, pension, 401K, all that good stuff, $8,000 to cover relocation, and $100,000 a year salary. That $100,000 is contingent upon the show being picked up for a second season, and then in year two you’d be up for salary negotiations again. This is very common and straightforward. A good offer, Kal. But I think you can get one-twenty.”

  “But, $100,000 is a lot of money.” Damn straight, it was a lot of money. I made a decent salary now. It was enough to cover the house and expenses. A trust Marcus had inherited when my parents died went a long way to cover the care Nancy provided, not all of it, but a good portion. Money had never been terribly tight. But $100,000 a year would be a vast pay increase. “Where is this job located?”

  “LA.”

  Fuck. Of course it was in LA. I’d avoided LA like the plague since Marcus passed. Even though LA is a huge town, show business made it smaller than it seemed. Sure, I could potentially go there and never see Riot, but the odds were against that.

  “Oh, I don’t know about LA,” I said, my voice trailing off at the end.

  “Kalli, you can’t avoid LA forever. Not with your job. Now, I believe in you and all that other supportive BS I’m supposed to say, but this is a job of a lifetime. If this show takes off, which it’s got a good chance of doing considering the cast, this could set you up for life, honey.”

  I let her words sink in a little, thinking about how much my life would change if I moved to LA. I’d have to leave my friends behind, and that would suck, but there really wasn’t anything holding me back. The money would be great, obviously, but the job would be amazing. To be offered that job, without even so much as a conversation with the producers, was huge, and I couldn’t ignore the compliment. My agent was right; it could be the job that put me on the map. It could be the job that set me up for the rest of my life.

  It could also be a huge flop—it was Hollywood after all.

  But could I take all that goodness, all those pros, and weigh them against the con of possibly seeing Riot?

  “When do they want an answer?”

  “You’re lucky they’re even giving you time, which is another indication you should ask for more money. But you’ve got until Friday at 4:00 p.m.”

  “Okay. I probably don’t need that much time, but I do need some. I’ll let you know.”

  “Should I send them any kind of counteroffer? Ask for the one-twenty?”

  “No. If I take the job, I’ll take it as is.”

  I heard her sigh on the other end of the line. Sure, she wouldn’t mind another $2,000, which would be her cut of an extra $20,000, but being greedy was not the way to make yourself a good name in this business. If I was worth more than the $100,000 they were offering, then I’d get a bigger offer in a year. And it would feel better too.

  “Okay, Kal. Let me know soon, all right? This is huge. Congrats.”

  “Thanks, Lucy. I will.”

  I hung up and immediately sent a text to Ella.

  **I need some serious advice when I get home.**

  I waited for her response. It came after just a few moments.

  **Should I put a bottle of wine in the fridge now?**

  I smiled at her response.

  **I knew we were friends for a reason. Yes, please.**

  Although our conversation was stalled until Mattie went down, the poor baby was teething and wouldn’t allow her mother and me a word—understandably. When Ella and I finally sat down on her big, comfortable couch, I was glad to have a glass of chilled white wine.

  “Okay, now that we’ve got some silence,” Ella said with an eye roll, “tell me what’s up.”

  “I got a call from my agent today and she told me I’ve been offered a job. A really good job. An amazing job, actually.”

  “What? That’s great news, Kalli!” Ella reached forward and clanked her wine glass against mine, saying, “Cheers!”

  I smiled and clinked my glass against hers in return, took a sip, and then continued.

  “The only thing is, it would mean moving to LA permanently. Or at least for six months. If the show gets picked up for a second season, it would then become permanent.”

  “Wait, a show? Like, a series?” Her eyes were wide and I could see the excitement building.

  “Yeah, it’s a new sitcom, a romantic comedy. Some pretty big names are supposedly signed on. I’d be the head costume designer. It comes with a
really huge paycheck. But it’s permanent. And in LA, of all places.”

  “Yeah, but, isn’t LA kind of the mecca for all this stuff? Either LA or New York, I would imagine.”

  “Yeah, but LA is also where Riot is,” I said.

  “Right. Gotcha.” She leaned forward and placed her wine glass on the coffee table, then turned back toward me. “Listen, I wouldn’t blame you for turning down a job because you were afraid you were going to run into him. The way it ended with him was… painful… to say the least.” She looked me right in the eyes when she said her next words. “But you shouldn’t let your experience with Riot keep you from living your life.” She placed her hand on my knee and gave me a few friendly pats. “If you want my opinion, I think you should consider the job as if he weren’t a factor. If you have some other reason for turning the job down, then consider that. But don’t let a failed relationship keep you from progressing in your career. Your career is yours, and you’ve worked hard to cultivate it. No one can take that away from you, and you shouldn’t let someone else control where it goes.”

  I took her words in and thought hard about them. Ella had a point and if there was anyone who had sacrificed for her career, it was her. Hell, she’d even gone back to work at a store where she’d been shot. Because it was her store. She could have very well closed up shop and let the fear rule her actions, but she hadn’t. And if Ella could go back after being shot, I could surely risk maybe seeing an ex-boyfriend.

  “You’re right,” I said, then took a sip of my wine. “I would regret turning this job down for such a terrible reason.”

  “I think you would too,” Ella agreed, her voice soft and understanding. “You’re one of the bravest people I know, Kal. If anyone can move to LA and become the head costume designer for a kick-ass sitcom, it’s you.”

  “Thanks.” Ella’s affection for me always caught me off guard. Never before had I met someone and instantly known I was meant to be best friends with her. Megan was a bonus. The two of them had, in so many ways, held me up when I wasn’t able to stand on my own two feet. The emotion was bubbling up in me and I drowned the lump in my throat with delicious wine, not wanting to cry on her couch like I had a million times in the months before.

  After a moment of silent contemplation, I finally let out a large sigh. “I guess I’m moving to LA.”

  After I decided to accept the new job, life became unmanageable. I had three weeks left on the job I was working, and even though it was always temporary, the good-bye at that job flooded me with emotion. It was as if I were saying goodbye to an entire chapter of my life, not just some nice people I’d worked with for a few weeks. Ella and Megan even planned a big going away dinner. Even though Ella was a dear friend and would always support me, I knew she loved any reason to have people over to her beautiful house, designed and built by her fantastic husband.

  The evening had been capped by Nancy and Bob surprising me by showing up. Nancy looked great and I knew Bob was taking good care of her. We’d found a moment to sneak onto Ella’s back deck and talk, staying warm with the propane warmers Porter had installed for just such an occasion. She told me she’d found a new job at a nursing home with a pediatric unit. She was still helping to care for kids, but now it was on a broader scale. She said she couldn’t imagine taking on another job where she was the main care provider for one child. She smiled softly and told me that Marcus had ruined her for any other kids.

  We both smiled with tears in our eyes and then she hugged me, telling me she was proud of me for taking the next step.

  “He’s looking down on you and he’s so proud, Kal. You have to believe this is what he wants for you.”

  I hugged her tighter, then we both pulled away and dried our eyes.

  “Come on, Nance. Let’s go back inside before people realize we’re out here crying.”

  The party was amazing, but I still had things to wrap up, so the next day I drove to Seattle and made an appointment for a property management company to meet me at my house. I figured I may as well rent it out while I was in LA. That way, I could earn a little money on it, but still have a place to come back to should the job in LA not work out. I was determined to no longer be a drain on my friends.

  I pulled up to my house and could almost imagine Marcus running out of the front door, Nancy behind him, yelling my name, excited to have me home. But instead, what I saw was a house that looked dark inside, a yard that definitely needed to be tended to, and a pile of weekly newspapers spread across the front walkway.

  I grabbed my bag from the car and started toward the door when I heard someone yelling from across the street.

  “Ma’am? Ma’am?”

  I turned and saw a woman running toward me, looking both ways quickly before she crossed the road.

  “Ma’am, do you live here?” She looked at me expectantly. My first reaction was a little rude. Who else would be coming up to the door with a suitcase? But then I calmed down and tried to remember that I hadn’t been there in months and even before then, I wasn’t here often. If Nancy had shown up, I’m sure the neighbor would have recognized her and probably would have even known her name.

  “I own this house. My name is Kalli Rivers.” I held my hand out to her, and she smiled when she shook it.

  “Oh, good, an owner. I thought the house had been abandoned. Thought, you know, a foreclosure or something. There used to be people living here, but they cleared out quickly.”

  My heart lurched at her words. “You probably mean my brother, Marcus, and his caretaker, Nancy.”

  “Nancy, yes! Oh, I didn’t realize Marcus had a sister. How is Marcus?” Her eyes were alight with warmth. Obviously, she’d met Marcus and thought he was just as delightful as anyone who’d come into contact with him.

  “I’m sorry to tell you he passed away a few months ago.” The words were never easy to say, but I did notice that when I told her, I didn’t feel like I wanted to crawl into a black cave. Somehow, telling someone he’d passed had become less difficult. I wasn’t less sad, it was just, I don’t know, a part of me. Something I’d learned to deal with as time went on.

  “Oh my, I’m so sorry,” she said as she reached out and took my hand. Then she used my hand to pull me into a hug. I stiffened at first, unused to hugging strangers, but then I let her hug me and I leaned into it a little. Comfort was something I needed to learn to accept from those who offered it. People didn’t offer comfort for selfish or insincere reasons. When people wanted to hug you, it was because they thought it would make your pain ease. So I let her ease my pain.

  “Wait,” she said, pulling away quickly. “You’re Kalli?”

  “That’s right,” I answered, my brows pulled together in confusion.

  “I have something for you.” She stepped away from me and hurried back to her house. I stood between my driveway and my front door, waiting for the woman to return. I finally saw her open her front door and scurry across the street again, holding something in her hand.

  “These were delivered to your house, but no one ever came to get them. I hope you don’t mind,” she said, a little out of breath from her jaunt across the street. “They would sit out there for days, so I’d go and collect them. I eventually had to throw them away, but I always kept the cards.” She held out a stack of small envelopes.

  “What are these?”

  “Cards. They came with the flowers.”

  “Flowers?”

  “Yes. At least twice a month, sometimes more, flowers would get delivered to your house and sit on the bench on the porch for days. No one was coming to get them. I told the delivery driver one day that no one lived there, but he didn’t seem to care much. They just kept coming. I hope I did the right thing. I didn’t have anyone to contact…” Her voice trailed off and I just looked at the envelopes, stunned.

  “No, it’s fine, um, I never caught your name.”

  “Barbara. Barbara McKinley. From across the street.”

  “Barbara, thank you for keep
ing these. I’m sorry you went to all the trouble with the flowers. I had no idea they were coming.”

  “Someone was obviously extremely persistent.” Her voice held a question, as if she were hoping I’d tell her all about who was sending me flowers. I didn’t offer her any information.

  “Yes, well, thank you again. I think I’ll go inside and wait for my appointment.”

  “Oh, yes, don’t let me keep you.” She gave me another sympathetic smile and then turned to head back to her house. It struck me that I had no idea who lived across the street from me all those years. It was a little too late to try to build a relationship now, but I made a mental note to try and be more open in the future.

  I made my way toward the house, the stack of envelopes burning in my hand the whole way. There was only one person who came to mind, and I wasn’t sure I could handle reading what would undoubtedly be sweet and heartbreaking notes from Riot. I wish I’d asked Barbara when the last one had been delivered. Suddenly it became exceedingly important to know how long the flowers had been coming. Had the last bunch been delivered months ago, I might have been able to handle the information. But if some had come last week, well, that would throw my whole world off its axis.

  I didn’t have time to contemplate anything, though, because there was a knock on my door before I could even open the first envelope. I tucked them into my purse and went to answer the door.

  “Are you Ms. Rivers?” the woman on the other side of the door asked.

  “That’s me,” I said with a sigh, opening the door wide to let the woman in.

  I spent the next hour discussing terms with the woman from the rental company. Luckily, the house was in good condition and only needed minimal work before it could be rented out. Even better, the woman said that for a fee they could take care of everything and have the house rented by the end of the month.

  I signed the contract, handed over the keys, and we both left. She made her way to her sleek black Mercedes, and I stood in the driveway staring up at the house I could hardly bear standing in for too long, but cared too much about to sell. It was the last place I’d heard Marcus laugh, the last place I’d seen his smiling face. No, I couldn’t sell it yet. Maybe not ever. For now, this would do. I’d let someone else live there. Maybe that would change the way the house felt to me. Perhaps, if I knew another family was there, making new and happy memories, I’d be able to move from this place of limbo. I didn’t know what I’d do with it in the future, but for now, I’d keep it.