Page 26 of The Music of Love

But of course my lawyer’s office is twenty minutes away from the house, and that’swithoutthe terrible Los Angeles traffic that we have today.

I call Reese, but she doesn’t answer. I call again, but it goes straight to voicemail. Yup, she’s seen the news.

“Come on, Reese, answer the phone!” I yell, trying again.

Straight to voicemail.

I dictate a text telling her to pick up and that I really need to talk to her, wait thirty seconds and try again, but again it goes straight to voicemail.

“Fucking Christ,” I curse, tossing my phone aside. “If only girls could berationalat times like this!”

I’m probably being an asshole saying something like that and not considering how upset Reese is right now and how upsetIwould be if something like this happened to me. But all I want right now is to fix this. And the only way I can fix this, being stuck in all this cursed Los Angeles traffic, is if Reese picks up her phone. And she’s clearly not going to do that.

This is a disaster. How could this happen?

I’ve had bad things happen tomebefore as a celebrity, but this is collateral damage that needs to be controlled. I don’t care about what people think of me; I care about what Reese thinks and how this is going to affect her.

And never in my life have I hated these LA freeways more.

I don’t know why, but for some reason, I try calling her again. This time it actually rings, but it still goes to her voicemail, which means she’s not actually hanging up on me; she’s just not picking up. I don’t know which one is worse.

Up ahead, I see a car on the side of the road. It looks like someone just ran out of gas and is getting a tow, and that’s what’s holding everybody up. After just a few minutes, I manage to pass it and speed way too fast the rest of the way home, but the only thing on my mind is getting back to Reese. I have to make sure I can explain all of this to her.

My heart is pounding by the time I reach the hills, which forces me to slow down. It’s not easy to gun it through narrow, winding slopes. I’m glancing at my phone the entire time just to make sure I didn’t miss a text or a call.

I didn’t.

“Goddamn it, Reese.”

When I reach the house, I round the corner and nearly slam into a car parked just outside the gate.

She ordered a car to take her away from me.

I pull up and park right in front of him as Reese is coming out of the house with her bags. The driver sees me before she does and looks away, clearly not wanting to be involved in any drama.

Then Reese sees me and looks down at her feet. I can see her mutter something to herself too.

I swipe my keycard to the door beside the gate and let myself onto the property and walk quickly up to her. “Reese. What you saw on the news–”

“Save it, Cal,” she says, pushing past me. “It was a nice plan, but I’m not falling for it.”

“Plan?” I ask, turning to follow.

“Lie to me,” she says, walking out the side door to the car waiting for her. “Romance me, get me to come out here so you can isolate me, trap me in Los Angeles.”

“Reese, that wasnotwhat I was doing–”

“The whole time you’re just dating Jenni Hinderman.” She tears open the back door to the car and throws her bag in.

“That’s not atallwhat’s going on!”

“I said save it, Cal!” Reese practically throws herself into the backseat to get away from me. I stand there for two seconds as a sense of being broken rips through my chest. But then, as I hear the car kick into gear and begin to move into reverse, something inside me snaps.

Am I really going to stand here while the love of my life drives away from me? After all I’ve done to fight for my career, am I really going to let Reese go so easily?

Hell no. She’s not going anywhere.

With a growl, I snatch the handle of the back door, tear it open, and leap in beside her.

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