Page 18 of Call Sign: King
Khloe sighed, more than ready to stand up and stretch. Only now that it was too late did she regret not going to the lavatory when she could. Her two lattes were catching up with her bladder.
Her assistant nudged Trevor from across the aisle. “Hand me her script. I’ll put it back into my bag,” Ricky offered.
Khloe closed the two-inch thick document she’d been poring over the entire five-hour flight, making a note on where she’d left off. Handing the top-secret script to Trevor, she picked up the colorful highlighters and pens she’d been using to make notations and questions for the director.
“Here, have him throw these in his bag, too.” She said, grateful her bodyguard always sat on the aisle to put a barrier between her and the gawking passengers who passed through first class.
Before she asked, Trevor pulled a granola bar and a too-green banana out of the seat pocket in front of him, leaning over to hand them to Khloe.
“Thanks, but I’m not hungry,” she said truthfully. “I have a bit of a tummy ache from the breakfast burrito.”
“You ate that six hours ago, and we’re going straight to the set from the airport. You need to eat something.”
“You realize the only thing we ever argue about is food, right?” she asked truthfully.
“I do. And as soon as you admit that you need more than coffee, energy drinks, and rabbit food to survive, we can stop arguing altogether.”
“I resent that,” Khloe said, pulling her small make-up bag from her purse, hoping to powder her nose before deplaning. “I’ve been eating everything you and Ryder want me to. Just ask my bathroom scale.”
“You have been doing great these last few months. I didn’t want to say anything to jinx it, but I’ve noticed the change.”
She tried her best not to panic just thinking about the pounds she’d gained, instead choosing to repeat the mantra her therapist had helped her come up with.
Food gives me energy and fuels my body so I can be healthy enough to carry Ryder’s baby. Eating disorders suck.
Okay, she’d tacked on that last part, but repeating the sentiment had been helping her focus on her health instead of staying stick-thin for Hollywood execs.
After putting her make-up case away, Khloe reached for the granola bar Trevor was still patiently holding out.
“Fine, I’ll eat this now, but I’d rather save more calories for when we get on location. You know they’ll have a buffet table there stocked with foods from my contract.”
Just another perk of being the lead on a film. Her agent, Angie, had been negotiating all kinds of non-monetary perks that made Khloe’s life easier.
Throwing the banana back in his own bag, Trevor pulled his phone out, ready to turn it back on as soon as they’d landed. Like Khloe, they both had learned to enjoy their time in the air when they could shut out the rest of the world, even for just a few hours.
“How late are we scheduled to go tonight?” Khloe asked, equally full of excitement and dread.
“The rest of the crew has been filming this sequence all weekend. The only thing left, as I understand it, are the close-up frames with you and Franks. My hope is we won’t go too late tonight. The lighting won’t be right after dark.”
The news was a relief. Normally, they would have flown in the day before she was due on set, just to give her body time to adjust to the new time zone, but she’d been having too much fun with Ryder home this past weekend. Their schedules were often crazy enough that they’d go weeks without having quality time together and so she hadn’t wanted to miss even a minute of time with him.
The tires touching down jostled Khloe in her seat as the pilot aggressively pressed the brakes. She didn’t bother pulling her phone out since Trevor and Ricky would be communicating with their driver and anyone else who needed to get ahold of her.
A fast and furious flurry of dings and alerts coming from both Trevor and Ricky’s devices was her first clue something might be wrong.
“What the fuck?” Trevor groused, sitting up straight in his seat as he scrolled through a long line of messages.
“Oh no,” Ricky said with an audible gasp.
“Is something wrong with Ryder? Is he hurt?” she said, her heart taking off as the plane came to a stop at the gate.
“Not hurt,” was all Trevor said as he frantically typed a message with his thick fingers.
“What is it?” Khloe pressed, needing more information. When he didn’t answer, she reached across the armrests to grab his forearm, trying to get his attention.
The audible ding ringing in the cabin was like a starting bell of a race. Passengers all around them pushed to their feet, ready to get off the plane. As they were in the front, they needed to get moving, but Trevor stayed seated, still typing.
“This is really bad, right?” Ricky’s voice warbled a full octave higher than normal as he pressed Trevor for answers from across the aisle.
