Page 89 of Never Fall Again

“Like Bronwyn said, he’s a regular. But he’s not interested in me. He loves his great big life in the great big city. He likes the attention, the media, all of it. If you check, he almost always comes with someone else. He likes it here. Likes the food. Likes the hiking. And he likes that he can disappear and make the paps wonder where he went. But as soon as he gets home, he dives back in. He’s not interested in me. He’s trying to find the next ex.”

Cal looked back at the list. “What about this next person, Ignacio? Wait a minute. Is that Ignacio the stunt guy?”

Bronwyn and Landry shared a look. A look Cal didn’t like.

“Landry?”

“Yes. But you can’t say anything. He’s very private. And half the time when he’s here, he’s not supposed to be here.”

“What does that mean?”

Bronwyn answered. “It means he’s booked solid. And sometimes his contracts include language prohibiting him from travel or engaging in certain activities because they’re trying to ensure that he lives long enough to do the job.”

“He’s a daredevil. You have to be to do the kind of work he does. But over the past few years he’s been doing fewer and fewer stunts, and instead, he’s been designing and directing them. He’s making a fortune doing it, and he likes it. But sometimes he gets an itch to do something stupid, like bungee jump in a developing country with poor quality control.” Landry shuddered.

Bronwyn picked up the tale. “Or flying a plane through a canyon. Or seeing how deep he can dive before he passes out.”

“You both like him, don’t you?” Cal asked.

“He’s hard not to like,” Landry said. “He’s sweet. Tips great. Always respectful. But I worry for him. I’m afraid whatever high he’s seeking will get him killed one of these days. Every time I tell him goodbye, I wonder if it’s the last time we’ll see him alive.”

Bronwyn nodded in agreement. “We respect his privacy. He comes here when the pressure gets to be too much. And he visits a lot.”

“Regardless, you can take him off the list.” Landry pointed to his name. “He told me he was headed to Eastern Europe. Then Africa or Alaska—he wasn’t sure which. He said he leaves all that up to his agent. But then he told me he shouldn’t have even said he was headed to Eastern Europe—it was all very hush-hush.”

When they were done, Cal declared there were six names in need of immediate follow-up. He promised to get the list to Mo immediately.

Bronwyn, miracle of miracles, took the hint and left. As soon as she was gone, Cal grabbed Landry’s hand and pulled her close. Not as close as they’d been earlier, but not friend close either. “Do you want me to help you pack?”

“No. I can handle it.”

“Can you go ahead and pack a bag for Eliza?”

“I’ll do that first thing.”

“Landry?”

“Cal?”

The knock on the door had Cal groaning. “Every single time.” He went to the door. Opened it. Donovan walked in carrying a carryout container. “Sorry to disturb you again, Landry, but Cassie stopped by. I wasn’t sure when you’d eaten last.”

Landry’s heart squeezed. “Thank you. And please tell Cassie thank you as well.”

“Will do.” Donovan tipped his cap and left.

Landry opened the box. A cinnamon roll the size of a frisbee stared back at her. There were two forks. She held out the box to Cal. “Care to join me?”

He snagged a fork, then they set the box on the kitchen counter and dove in. “This is delicious.”

“Cassie’s a genius.”

Bronwyn reentered with a barely there knock. “Sorry to barge in. Donovan said you had a—” Her eyes lit up. “I need a fork.” She rummaged in the silverware drawer and came back to join them. “Hope I’m interrupting something.”

She took a huge bite. Cal stabbed at Bronwyn’s fork when she tried to get another piece. “He brought this for Landry.”

“Yeah? You don’t look like Landry to me. And I’m starving.”

“So is she.”

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