2
LIAM
The only thing more frustrating than Mia Collins was city hall. Barely.
“This again?” I growled into the phone as I stepped out of the world’s slowest elevator onto the eighth floor. I carefully avoided the uneven floor tiles—the ones that were always giving Jake trouble—and set off down the hall.
“I don’t care if he’s busy,” I continued, barking out instructions to one of my assistants. “Get Cruz on the phone and make sure the filming permits have been sorted this time. The last thing I want is production halted because someone forgot to file the damn paperworkagain.” Apparently, when you were going to set fire to things for a TV show, the city wanted to know about it. “What do you mean he’s on leave?”
My assistant said something about Cruz and an engagement. I rolled my eyes, walking up to Jake’s apartment door. “Yes, I want you to email him. The man had all year to get engaged; it’s not my problem he chose the run-up to season two to do that. Forward me his response when you hear from him.”
I hung up with a sharp exhale, staring at the door for a beat. Honestly, Cruz was a damn good location manager. But the timing? Ridiculous. The show was already on a knife’s edge with the mess in the writers’ room, and now this?
Still, I supposed I was happy for the guy. I made a note in my phone to have one of my assistants send Cruz a card and some flowers. I stuffed my phone in my pocket when I was done and lifted my hand to knock on Jake’s door.
I hesitated for a moment. It still felt strange having to mentally prepare myself for seeing the guy who had been my best friend since we were fourteen. We’d met on the basketball court freshman year of high school, and it was like finding another brother.
Back then, Jake had been a rocket bottled with pure optimism. No matter what kind of day I was having, his energy always lifted me up. Now we were thirty-eight, and everything had changed—especially in the last year.
“You’re trying to do too much! Like always!” I heard before I could knock. The voice that pierced through the door sounded like Jake’s girlfriend, Gabrielle, and judging by her tone, she was capitalPpissed. “You need to rest!”
“I’ve been resting all morning!”
I rolled my eyes. At least it was a familiar argument.
“How do you expect to get any better if you don’t take it easy?” Gabrielle yelled. It sounded like she was storming back and forth across the unit.
“I’m fine!” Jake said.
“No, you’re not! Your leg needs time to heal!”
“Yeah? And how much time is that, Gabrielle?”
“As much as it takes! Look, I’m not trying to hover?—”
Jake scoffed. “Hover? You mean stand next to me and nag me about not doing anything for myself?”
“Fine! I don’t know what I’m doing here anyway if you’re not going to listen to anything I say.”
“I’m listening,” he huffed. “I’m just?—”
“Not letting anything permeate that stubborn head of yours!”
I blew out a breath that rattled my lips together. This sounded like my cue to leave. But as I considered backing away from the door, down the hall, and right into the elevator, I reminded myself that I hadn’t been able to scrape out time to visit Jake all week—and if I left now, I wasn’t sure when I’d get another chance later.
I missed their next bit of sparring, but Gabrielle let out a strangled sound, and I could imagine the frustrated side-eye she’d just given Jake. It had become a staple in their relationship as of late.
I raised my hand and knocked. “Hey, it’s me,” I called through the door.
The conversation inside stopped abruptly. Footsteps drew close. A moment later, Gabrielle threw the door open, her dark eyes narrowed, her lips puckered in displeasure. “Good!” she snapped. “Youcan babysit him for a while. Maybe he’ll listen to you better than he does to me.”
“Babe?” Jake called after her, but she grabbed her purse and stormed past me into the hall without looking back.
“Want me to go after her?” I asked Jake.
He slumped back in his wheelchair and waved his hand at me dismissively. “Let her go.”
I closed the door behind me, walking into the living room toward Jake.