Aftershock: A Charity McAdams Novella (7 page)

The only bright spot in all the heaviness of leaving is that in only three short hours I will touch down at LAX and see Brandon again. It’s almost strange how much I’ve missed him. I mean, we went three years without seeing each other but now I go halfway crazy missing him in a week and a half. It’s like all the loneliness and heartache from those years apart has compounded and we can’t stand to be separated now.

I follow Ashley as the line inches forward. I hate that it’s silent between us but I can’t think of anything to say.

Nothing I can say will make this any easier.

We finally get to the front counter and I hoist my biggest suitcase onto the scale before laying down my ticket confirmation and ID for the representative. Ashley rolls my other bag forward and sets it up on the scale after the first is tagged and taken behind the counter. It takes a few minutes for them to get everything checked in and give me my boarding pass. Ashley and I turn away and start walking toward the TSA security line.

“Time to get one last coffee?” Ashley asks, hopeful.

I look at the line for security and glance at my watch. It will probably be cutting it close but I nod my head, unable to say no. “I think we can manage that!"

Ashley smiles and links her arm through mine and we walk Wizard of Oz style over to the nearby coffee shop. We order and then plop down onto two bar stools.

Ashley stares off into space for a long moment as she takes a drink. “Can you believe this is really happening?” she asks, bringing her gaze back to me.

“No, not really,” I answer, shaking my head. “I can’t believe that Brandon and I are together again, after all this time. I can’t believe I’m leaving Washington.”

“I can’t believe Brandon actually became a movie star!” Ashley says with a laugh.

I push her arm playfully. “Hey! He’s talented!”

“I know, I know, it just seems crazy. I mean we’ve known him since high school. I don’t think anyone thinks their classmates will grow up to be famous.”

I nod, still smiling. “I know what you mean. The whole thing is crazy.” My smile dissolves slightly at this.

Ashley grabs my hand. “Ya know what they say?”

“Hmm?” I ask, looking at her.

“Crazy enough it just might work.”

I smile and squeeze her hand. “Thanks Ash. What am I going to do without you?”

“Come visit a lot?” She suggests with a sad smile.

I return the smile and try to hold back the tears that are building.

“Oh, no, no, no! None of that!” Ashley insists. She hops down from her stool. “I refuse to have a soggy goodbye with you.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll pull it together, I promise,” I say, fanning my eyes.

She rolls her eyes at me. “Don’t you have a plane to catch?” She teases.

“Oh, now you want me to leave?” I say, laughing.

“Well, if you’re gonna make me cry, then yes!”

Our laughter dies down and a sudden seriousness hits us. I hop off my stool and go to throw away both of our drink cups.

“I really should get going,” I say when I turn back around.

Ashley nods. I pull her into a tight embrace. “I am going to miss you so much.”

“Me too,” she answers into my shoulder.

After a few more minutes we break apart and Ashley walks with me to the security line. She gives me a quick hug and makes me promise to text her as soon as I land. I get in line and shuffle along after the other people. When it’s my turn, I give the TSA agent my ticket and ID. He ushers me forward and I turn to give Ashley one final wave before I step forward to get scanned and finish the security process.

The flight passes quickly and without too much trouble. I spent most of it cycling through different scenarios of how it will play out when I land and see Brandon again.

There is always the classic “run and jump into his arms” scene that is a staple in romantic comedy flicks. But perhaps we’re more subtle, something like a long embrace and a sweet kiss. Or, maybe he will try to play it down for the paparazzi and we just kind of act like longtime friends rather than a couple. At least until we get to the car…hmmm…maybe that could work out after all.

All my fantasy planning seems to have been in vain. I get off the plane and when I funnel through and get back to the main gate there is no sign of Brandon. In all my excitement I hadn’t checked my phone since turning it off for the flight. I power it up as I make my way to the luggage area, thinking maybe he is meeting me there. When the screen flicks on I see two texts from him and a voicemail.

Not a good sign.

I stop walking and someone rams into me. I mumble an apology and step off to the side, along the wall, to check my messages.

I’m so sorry. I won’t be there to pick you up today. I got stuck in a meeting with my PR firm. I’ll be at the house when you get there. I promise. I’m sending a car for you. They will meet you at baggage claim. I love you!

And the second:

Can’t wait to see you!!! I have a surprise waiting for you!

I press the phone to my ear and listen to the voicemail which is basically the same thing as what he said in the texts. I frown and click off the phone before the message finishes. I stuff the phone back in my pocket and start walking again.

It’s unbelievable to me that he won’t be here. I’m not sure if I am more angry or disappointed.

I mean he wasn’t even planning on
being
in L.A. right now, so how could he have a meeting that’s so important he can’t get out of it to pick me up at the airport?

For a minute I am tempted to text him back and say something snappy but I take a deep breath and remind myself that he probably tried his best to get here. I know how much he wants to see me. As I stand at the carousel for luggage I scan back through previous texts where he was going on and on about how much we miss each other. It’s slightly ridiculous to read back and I find myself laughing at the more syrupy lines.

There is a tap on my shoulder and I jump, startled by it. I turn and see an older gentleman in a nice suit.

“Ms. McAdams?” He asks.

“Yes,” I say, realizing he is probably the driver Brandon hired to pick me up.

He holds out a hand for me to shake. “I’m Keith, I’m Mr. Hart’s driver.”

I shake his hand, wondering how in the world he knew who I am.

As if sensing my confusion, he pulls up a picture of me on his cell phone. “He sent me this so I’d be able to spot you,” he offers with a smile. “And here is my card, if you want to call Mr. Hart to verify everything.”

I nod. This is all so strange. I’ve never been picked up by a driver and I don’t know the protocol. I take the card and give Keith a smile. “That won’t be necessary. Oh! There is one of my bags, one second,” I say, lunging forward.

“Please, allow me, miss.”

He gathers that bag and the other one when it comes down a few minutes later. He loads them onto a cart and we head out to where he has parked his town car. He swiftly opens the door and helps me into the car before going around and loading everything into the trunk. A few minutes later and we are headed away from the busy airport.

As promised, I text Ashley and let her know I made it. I leave out the part where Brandon wasn’t there to get me. For a moment I think to text my mom but decide against it and put my phone away. I had emailed her before I left to give her the confirmation of the order I placed with a local bakery to do the cake and pastries for the baby shower (as predicted, if you ask nicely, people are willing to work with you, a lesson Valerie desperately needs to learn!) and at the end I let her know when I would be leaving. She had sent a reply to thank me for working out the deal with the bakery but did not mention anything about me leaving town.

Valerie, on the other hand, caught wind of my plans and sent a colorful string of text messages to drive home her point that I am basically throwing my life away.

I’m not sure what life it is I am supposedly throwing away to be with Brandon. I mean, let’s face it, I was working at a café making coffee and warming up scones, not formulating a plan for world peace. Of course I would miss my friends, family (well certain members…) and my relatively quiet, small town life but I’m not sure that counts as throwing away my life.

I suppose she’s on my mom’s side in that she pictured my future with James. I’d be the trophy wife to a handsome, successful business man. She wants me to simulate her life, maybe as some sort of validation to her choices. It’s not that it would be a bad life. In fact, if I am honest with myself, two or three months ago and that’s exactly the path I was on. 

I shake it all away and try to clear my head. I don’t need their approval in order to live my life. If I’m making a mistake I’ll find out sooner or later and then I’ll be the one who has to deal with the fallout, not them.

Chapter Thirteen

Apparently what they say about Los Angeles traffic is true, because it takes us nearly an hour and a half to get from LAX to West Hollywood. I spend most of the drive looking out the window, familiarizing myself with this city that I will now call home. It’s sunny and clear and the warmth radiating off the window feels nice on my skin.

We finally start winding our way up into the Hollywood hill and pull into a gated community. The car comes to a stop in front of a sprawling estate and I practically do a double take. The grounds look well maintained and lush with a variety of plants and perfect grass. My breath catches a little when I realize that this is where I will be living. I’ve never even visited a home like this before, let alone imagined living in one. Valerie’s house is the biggest I’ve ever been inside but this one looks much bigger.

Keith comes around to open my door and he offers me a hand. I take it, needing the support as I get steady on my feet. He leaves my side to go retrieve my luggage and I stagger forward, trying to take it all in.

“Cherry!”

I turn and see Brandon crossing the yard. I’m not sure where he came from because the front door never opened. There must be secret trap doors somewhere.

I start running across the yard and launch into his arms. He grips his arms tightly around me and I lock my legs around his waist. He weaves a hand through my hair and pulls my face to his, kissing me fiercely, as if it’s been years, not days, since we last saw each other.

Breathless, we finally break apart and stare at each other.

“Hi,” I whisper.

“Hi,” he replies with a smile. There is a shimmer in his eyes and I don’t know why but I start giggling uncontrollably. Something about the visual of us mauling each other in the middle of his front yard is funny to me.

“What is so funny?” He asks, looking at me like I’ve lost my mind.

“Nothing, I’m just happy to see you.”

“Well, good,” he says. He kisses me again and then sets me back on the ground. “I was worried you’d be pissed and wouldn’t speak to me for the first week, since I ditched you at the airport.”

He takes my hand and starts leading me to the front door. “I can’t say I was thrilled, but I get it, you would have been there if you could have.”

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” he growls against my temple. He gives me a devilish smile and eyes me up and down.

“You better,” I say with a wink.

Keith comes in behind us with the last of my luggage and Brandon lets go of me to go and settle things with him. I watch as he presses a handful of bills into Keith’s hands. “Thanks man, I appreciate you being available on such short notice.”

“Anytime, Mr. Hart. You two have a nice day,” he says, turning to go.

“Thank you,” I call as Brandon escorts him out the door. 

I hear the door close and Brandon comes back into the room. I start tingling just watching him cross the room. He’s wearing relaxed fitting jeans and a button up flannel shirt that has the sleeves cuffed to his elbow and the first couple buttons are undone.

He just looks yummy.

His eyes are dark and intense when he gets to me. He nudges me back till I’m pressed against the wall and he stares at me for a long moment before leaning in and kissing me. I wind my arms around his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepens.

“What do you think of starting the tour in the bedroom?” He asks with a smile as he pulls back.

“Yeah, I probably should get a jump on unpacking,” I tease, running my fingers through his hair.

“You’re impossible, you know that right?” He says, laughing.

“It’s part of my charm.”

All banter falls away when he kisses me again and we head upstairs to the master suite where he more than makes up for ditching me at the airport.

“What’s my surprise? Tell me it has something to do with food,” I mumble into Brandon’s shoulder. We are still nestled together in his ginormous bed, neither one of us making a move to get up just yet.

Brandon laughs. “No, not exactly.” He starts to stir and roll away. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

I fight the urge to cling to him and argue for five more minutes of cuddling and start to scoot out of bed. I wrap up in the sheet and sit at the edge for a minute, the idea of getting back into my travel clothes is less than appealing, and while I’m sure Brandon wouldn’t complain if I decided to wander around naked, I’m not really that kind of person. I prod my discarded jeans with my toe.

“What do you need?” Brandon asks, turning to me as he pulls on a pair of athletic shorts and a black tank top.

“Can I borrow a tank top or something? My luggage is all downstairs.”

“Yeah, anything you need. Check that dresser,” he says, pointing across the room. “I’ll be right back.” He turns, presumably to go to the attached master bath.

I shuffle across the room, careful not to get tangled up in the sheet. I open the top drawer to the dresser he had indicated and my mouth drops open when I see it is all my stuff. The top drawer has my bras, underwear, and socks all lay out like in a department store in colorful organizer boxes. The next drawer has all my t-shirts and light sweaters, the bottom drawer my pajamas and workout gear.