Page 61 of Where the Little Birds Go (Little Bird Duet 1)

Despite the hotel manager assuring me I’d be fine it didn’t make me feel any better. I pace across the hotel room until the carpet is worn by my patterned movements. Free room service is brought to me from management like it’s their fault the press is trying to break into the hotel and find me. Every time someone knocks on my door, my muscles lock and panic settles into my bones.

By Saturday night, my agent tells me to stay off social media. My publicist tells me that they’re working on taking down comments shared on my online posts, which only makes me itch to see wha

t they’re saying. My parents called to ask me what was going on, but I couldn’t tell them the truth when I answered. I said things were fine because pretending they are is easier than accepting they’re not.

“Kinley, we think it’s best you come home sooner rather than later,” Jamie Little, from Little’s Literary Agency, tells me after the third call of the day.

My time on the film was supposed to last a month. Thirty days to see my imagination come to life before my eyes. Four weeks to experience what it’s like to see my dreams come true. In the short time I’ve been here, I experienced more than that and I’m greedy because I don’t want it to end.

Seeing Corbin.

Watching him live his own dream.

We spend so much time holding on to things that make us angry instead of allowing ourselves closure. And for what? It’s like we fear who we’ll be if we no longer feel the things that we’ve known for so long. If I hadn’t embraced my emotions, I wouldn’t have gotten a chance to stand in California at all.

“Kinley?”

I close my eyes. “The media are everywhere, Jamie. I don’t see how I could leave right now even if I wanted to.”

Her voice is full of surprise. “You don’t?”

Is it the movie making me stay or something else? That’s what I keep asking myself. Then, like always, I deny what’s been just out of reach of my conscience for so long. Acceptance. Admission. I’m glad Jamie told me I was stupid for wanting to pull the plug on the movie when I realized they offered Corbin the lead role. Even on the days when I have to see speculation over him and Lena or hear gossip about him from the people on set, or just watch him play the role so perfectly, I still don’t regret coming here.

“This movie means a lot to me.”

Jamie never asked why I wanted them to call the whole thing off, but it shouldn’t have been hard to guess given what news it followed. She just shook her head and reminded me what it would do for sales. On top of the buzz it was getting from online media outlets, new covers with a movie-based image on the front with Corbin and Olivia would hit shelves right before the movie and double hardcopy sales. She never wanted to ask the reason why because she was like any businesswoman out there—in it for the money it’d produce.

At the end of the day, we all had bills to pay. I spent years washing dishes when I didn’t want to. I hated the hours, the way my fingers pruned, and how hot the kitchen was. The only thing that made it worth it was the walks and drives home with Corbin, and knowing the money was being saved up to invest in my books.

She’s typing something on her computer before answering. “There’s a flight I’d like you to be on first thing Monday morning. The press will have cleared out by then, so you’ll be able to get to the airport. You’ll meet me at my office on Tuesday morning so we can go over what to say to quiet the rumors.”

I plop on the end of the bed. “I shouldn’t have to make a statement over a fuzzy picture that doesn’t mean anything. Won’t that just cause more buzz like I’m guilty of something?”

Her sigh is a little reassuring. “You have a point, but we need to discuss it in person. I’m booking your flight. I expect you to be on it.”

Leaning my elbows against my bent knees, I rest of forehead in my hand. “I was supposed to have another week and a half here. They’re bringing these characters to life, Jamie.”

“You have interviews with them,” she points out in exasperation. “The entire cast will meet again for a press tour to promote the movie. The premiere party, the red carpet, the talk shows—”

“Put yourself in my shoes,” I cut her off.

The benefit of the doubt she gave me before is gone. “I am, Kinley. That’s why I’m getting you out of there before this becomes a shit show. We both know you worked too hard for this. There's no need to risk it for a scandal the media are trying to make bank on.”

The thing is I can’t argue with her. It doesn’t matter if she knows the truth or not because it’s not her job to deal with the drama in my personal life. She’s supposed to sell my books and make sure my image stays clean so we both make money from the work.

“I took you on when you were a teenager and don’t regret it one second because you’re a hard worker who’s dedicated to making something of yourself. Trust me on this. Can you do that?”

The day I walked into her office to go over the contract I’d been offered, I knew I had the option of walking out without putting pen to paper. But Jamie is the exact person I need to help my career move in the direction I want.

“I’ve trusted you since day one,” I admit.

I can picture her smiling. Or her version of smiling, which is the fastest curve of the lips before the movement disappears. It’s more like a muscle twitch.

“Monday. Plane.”

There’s another knock on my door. I walk out of the bedroom and rub a hand down the side of my face. If this hotel offers me another meal without me asking for one, I may blow up. Then I’ll spend the rest of the night feeling ten times guiltier over being rude on top of being a pain in their ass along with the other guests impacted by the circus outside.

“I’m not hungry,” I tell whoever is standing on the other side, eyeing the peephole.

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