Page 46 of A Very Snowed In New Year
“Yes. I just don’t own a car.”
“What?! Everyone owns a car in LA.”
“I either Uber or my roommates drive or I borrow their car.”
“Okay, well Lainey for sure won’t be driving for a couple of days, so take her car. And to be clear—I don’t need you to text with Holden for me anymore. I’ve definitely got this, so go ahead and sign out of Backroom. Although I might need you to do this for me with another guy at some point—we’ll see. Anyway, I’ll be flying in early tomorrow afternoon. I’m having some things delivered to your apartment by eight tomorrow morning. Things I need you to take to Big Bear and set up for me, okay? There’s new stuff I ordered from Amazon and stuff I told my sister to grab from my house. Make sure she gives it to you. I’m emailing you all the information, okay? Address, key code for the cabin, what to put where, and you need to be out of there by one at the latest.”
“Doesn’t it take over two hours to drive to Big Bear?”
“It does. It’ll probably take me longer to get there from LAX. Ugh. It’s going to be such a long travel day for me tomorrow. Okay. I have to get one last hot-stone massage—also, I’ve been working on a notes document for your script. I have some ideas for the second act turning point that I think you will love.”
“Great. I’m going to need an extra two weeks’ salary for the Big Bear assignment,” I find myself telling her.
“Excuse me?”
“It’s New Year’s Eve and it’s over four hours of driving. Also, it feels like you’re planning on trying to get me to do a free rewrite for you on my script, and I don’t feel comfortable with that.”Oh my God, I am so proud of myself right now.They don’t teach anything practical about being a professional screenwriterin my classes, but growing up in New York taught me a lot about not letting people fuck with me. Or maybe it’s the wine.
“Wow. Hardball. Okay, respect. No notes until we have a deal in place and after you’ve been paid the option fee for your script, and I’ll tell my business manager to pay you two weeks’ salary for your work at Big Bear tomorrow. Thanks—byeeee.”
Welp.
I guess itwasjust my imagination about Holden.
I unpack a few sweaters, put a few items of clothing into my laundry basket.
This hasn’t killed me and it will make me stronger.
So Holden Archer is going to cabin with Shay Nicholls. How did I think this would end? I’m the queen of getting other people together.
Sighing, I zip up my suitcase, because fuck unpacking.
I need one glass of wine.
But not to drown my sorrows.
To celebrate the open road ahead.
A wise girl once wrote in her diaryEvery crush door that closes just leads you to the door that the love of your life will be waiting behind.It was me. I wrote that. After Eddie and Birdie got married. And so I will close the door that leads to the actor with the initials HEA and lead myself to the door that my real HEA might be waiting behind.
So this isn’t a celebrity romance—big deal! Doesn’t mean it’s not a romance. Maybe it’s a friends to lovers. Journal Guy counts as a friend. I think. And he definitely emails like someone who has a nice butt.
I’m not sad.
I’m definitely crestfallen.
But still hopeful.
“I’m here! I’m here,” Lainey calls out, and I hear the front door slam. She runs into my room and wraps her arms aroundme. “I love you. This too shall pass. I brought a shitload of disgusting stuff from my sister’s house that I have to give you, including a thong the size of a toddler’s bracelet, and I’m so sorry for whatever emotional pain you’re feeling right now.”
“I’m not in emotional pain.”
“Awww, baby. You’re numb.” She leads me out to the living room area and sits me down on the sofa.
Tracy hands me a glass of wine. “We’re both here for you now, and there are five parties you’re coming with us to tomorrow night. We will find you someone who is not Holden Archer.”
Lainey turns on the old iPhone and Bluetooth speaker we use to listen to Spotify in here, and I already know she’s going to put on the “Girls’ Night In” playlist, which is a slightly different collection of Taylor Swift songs than the “Girls’ Night Out” playlist.
I take a sip of merlot and say, “I actually sort of have someone who’s not Holden already.”
