And I really do miss this place.
Jacob texts me as I’m walking back to the room.
Jacob: How’s Chloe doing?
Me: A little better. We’re hoping she’ll get discharged today.
Jacob: I’m guessing you didn’t tell her, then, right?
Me: Right. I couldn’t do that with everything else going on.
Jacob: Yeah, I wouldn’t have either. But don’t put it off.
Me: I’ll tell her as soon as she’s recovered.
Jacob: Sounds like an excuse to me.
I’m right outside Chloe’s room and pause to type out a reply.
Me: Fine. It kind of is, but she’s going to get upset and she’s still not out of the woods. She has the flu, and it can knock you on your ass for days.
Jacob: I see you’re point. Just don’t wait.
Me: I won’t.
Letting out a sigh, I push open the door and find Chloe sitting up, tying away at something on her phone.
“You’re up.” I close the door behind me.
“I have to pee,” she says, looking up from her phone. “I’m still not supposed to get out of bed without help.” She rolls her eyes.
“I’ll take you.”
“Thanks…just…one second…” She bites her lip, rereading what typed. “Okay.” She sends off a text and gets up, purposely moving slow this time so she doesn’t get a brain rush like she did the last time she got up too fast. I roll the IV pole along with her, and help her into the bathroom, making sure she doesn’t need help or lose her balance.
She gets a text as she’s getting back into bed, and I grab her phone for her. “Karina…she’s your editor?” I ask, remembering Chloe mention that name before.
“Publicist. She wants me back in LA this week to do a surprise appearance with Charles somewhere to get the show’s social media trending again. It’s all last minute, since Charles has been on location filming, but his costar got hurt during a stunt last night so he’s coming back to LA to film some scenes in the studio.”
She says it so casually it almost sounds like no big deal to hang out with A-list movie stars and have the inside scoop on what’s going on behind the scenes of the next Hollywood blockbuster.
“When does she want you back?”
“Wednesday.”
“This Wednesday?”
She nods. “It’ll be fine. We’ll leave here tonight, drive to Chicago. I’ll have all day tomorrow to rest and try and catch up on my writing, and then I’ll catch a late flight Tuesday, do my little PR stunt Wednesday morning, and I can come back after that.”
“Chloe,” I say gently and sit on the bed next to her. “That’s how you got sick in the first place. You ran yourself ragged.”
“I’m just sitting in a plane for like ten hours.”
“And the airport for just as long.”
“It’s not that bad, especially if I take a secret plane.”
I raise an eyebrow. “A secret plane?”
“It’s how celebrities travel,” she tells me. “I didn’t know about it until Charles and I become friends. You get dropped off away from the general public and have your own special waiting area. If you’re flying commercial, you’re boarded at a separate time or sometimes driving straight to the plane.”
“That’s interesting,” I admit. “I never thought about it, though I do prefer to fly first-class and don’t know if I could ever go back to coach.”
“Snob,” she teases and then yawns. “I flew coach to get here to Chicago. It was the only thing available.”
“Go home to LA,” I tell her. “I work seven AM to seven PM tomorrow, have Wednesday off, and then work seven PM to seven AM Thursday to Friday. I can catch a plane after that and come see you. Let me run ragged instead,” I joke.
“I feel bad making you do that.”
“It’s my turn to come see you.” …If you’ll want me to, that is. “And I don’t think you looked at the weather forecast, but the weather this week in Chicago is shitty.”
“The nice weather is honestly what’s keeping me there,” she confesses. “It’s big and busy and so damn expensive to live in LA. Chicago is expensive too.”
“And we don’t get the nice weather.” I move the IV line so I can wrap my arms around Chloe. “My mom likes to remind me two things on a monthly basis: I don’t have kids and I could buy a really nice house in Silver Ridge and pay less for the mortgage than I do for rent.”
“Hah, my dad says the same thing. I rented an apartment the first year I lived in LA, and it killed me every time rent was due.” She coughs and brings a hand to her chest, grimacing from the pain. “It’s really annoying I’m not better yet after spending nearly twenty-four hours in the hospital.”
“If only it worked that way.”
“Do you get many sick patients?” Her eyes fall shut and I pull the blankets over her lap.