Page 26 of The Road Trip Romance

“The D List,” Sophia announces and all four of us chuckle.

“Come on, boys, let’s go get dinner,” she adds as she pulls my hand, leading me into the diner. I watch her joking with my friends and making small talk with the waitress who is easily twice her age. She offers the truckers at the next table our salt shaker, and in five minutes flat, she’s made new friends. It’s a silly little thing, playing pretend at a little diner off the highway, but it’s the most alive I’ve felt in months. She’s made me laugh more in two days than I have in two years.

Our eyes lock as she takes water from the waitress. Neither one of us says a word, but we stay that way, gazing at one another for a few seconds before Penn interrupts us with a funny story. When I glance back at her, she’s still watching me. And it takes way too much effort to look away. Sophia Walsh is the real deal.

CHAPTERELEVEN

Sophia

After an uneventful night at a hotel right off the interstate, we head into Chicago. This day trip adds an extra twenty-four hours onto the adventure, but seeing how excited Rex is to see his son, Trevor, I’m glad we’re doing it.

“When did you last get to visit with Trevor?” I ask as Penn expertly steers us in the late rush hour traffic.

“Almost a year ago,” Rex admits with a sad smile. “He’s here getting his master’s degree. When he was home for the holidays, I had to be on set. I flew out a day before he flew in. So, I’m glad we can take a day here.”

“What about your other kids?” I ask as I lean my head against the headrest and look at Rex. He’s very handsome. And I’ve enjoyed his witty sense of humor. He’s very down to earth, which I didn’t expect from him.

“Jess is in her gap year. She’s traveling and deciding what she wants in life. And Harry is a sophomore at Princeton,” he says, this time his smile is a happy one.

“Are you close with them?” I question.

“I am. It took a long time, but my ex, Linda, and I worked out a visiting schedule that let the kids stay in London most of the year. Thank God for modern technology and my ability to travel to see them as much as possible,” he answers.

I nod. “It helps when you get along with your ex,” I state, knowing that feeling all too well.

“You get on with…Mark?” he asks, trying to remember my ex-husband’s name.

“I do. It does help.” I feel Tate watching me and I glance back at him. He’s in the way back.

“He seemed like a nice guy,” Tate interjects.

I nod again. “He is. We just…wanted different things in life and it didn’t work out.”

I watch as Tate frowns a little and then opens his mouth and closes it. I’m about to tell him to “spit it out,” when Penn speaks.

“We’re almost there. I really want to go up to the top of that building,” Penn declares as he points to the famous skyscraper.

“I think it’s called the Willis Tower now,” Tate adds. “I’ve always wanted to go up there too…you know, ever since watchingFerris Bueller’s Day Off.”

There are some murmurs of agreement. My eyes track up the building and I feel the color leave my face.

“That’s a hard pass for me,” I mutter as I look back down at street level to distract myself from even contemplating what being up there would feel like because I know…death. Fine, that’s a little exaggeration, but not much. Climbing those boulders earlier was about as high as I’m willing to go.

“Yeah, I’d rather not. I want to go see that bean thing and walk along the water,” Jordan says.

Penn glances in the rearview mirror at us. “Tate, you down for joining me?”

Tate looks over at me before answering. “Uh, sure.”

“Coolio. Let’s see…oh, there’s the hotel,” he declares as he pulls up to a swanky-looking hotel and parks the car. A valet appears out of nowhere and does a double take but says nothing as he hands Penn the receipt for the car.

“You want to join me for a walk?” Jordan asks me as we walk toward reception. I see Tate look over at him from the corner of my vision.

“Sure,” I reply, glancing at Tate who quickly looks away as if uninterested in the conversation. “Let me just drop my stuff in my room.”

We get checked in. Tate has refused to let me pay for anything on this trip, and when I see the costs of a room here, I suddenly don’t feel bad about that. We ride up in the elevator to the eighth floor. I’m a little surprised that we didn’t get some sort of penthouse suite, but I suppose if they all want to fly under the radar, maybe getting normal rooms helps with that…maybe.

As I walk down the corridor, I feel Tate’s eyes on me. I find my room number and am unlocking the door when Tate stops at the next door and does the same. When I enter the room, I look around. There’s a closet, bathroom, basic king-sized bed, and another door. I frown and unlock it. There’s another door. It’s then that I realize Tate is on the other side of that door.

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