Part 7 (1/2)

”We'll go looking around at the usual spots,” the guy said.

The girl told me her name was Molly; the guy was Kevin. I hated even hearing that name now.

I said, ”I'd go with you but my family is here visiting. If you find her, let me know.”

We exchanged numbers, and they went on their way.

My parents and Grace stayed about an hour or so. Most of the time was spent focused on the baby, which was great in so many ways, not the least of which was that it closed off a lot of opportunities for my parents to resume their campaign to bring me home with them.

Although, Mom tried in her own not-so-subtle way. She brought up things that she thought would make me homesick. Each time, Dad would say something like, ”But you'd know that if were you were still home.”

I was getting frustrated with this. So much so that I couldn't keep it inside anymore.

”This is is my home. You're looking at it.” my home. You're looking at it.”

They looked surprised.

”Olivia...” Grace said in a pleading tone, her voice trailing off.

”What, Grace?” I snapped, then looked back at my parents. ”I'm living here now. I've started my life. I'm happy, okay? Really happy. And you should be happy for me.”

”You're right,” my mom said with a look on her face that told me she was simply trying to put an end to this little spat.

Dad, for once, didn't say anything.

The baby started to cry. Grace gathered her up and checked her diaper.

Mom said, ”Does she need to be changed?”

”No,” Grace said. ”I think she needs a nap. Can we get going?”

The tension was heavy. I hated it. Hated every second of it. What had started out as a relatively nice weekend was turning out exactly as I had feared. The bickering, pa.s.sive-aggressiveness, control-all of it, everything I had left behind in Ohio-was now in my den in my new home.

I just wanted them to leave.

And as they did, we made half-hearted plans to have breakfast before they hit the road the next morning.

I tried calling Krystal when they were gone. No answer. I left a voicemail, then texted her. I was becoming increasingly convinced that she was off with the ”friends” who had the cocaine.

I called Max.

”h.e.l.lo, dream girl,” he answered.

”Can you come over?”

”What's wrong? Where's the family?”

I felt the sting in back of my throat that I get just before I cry. But I fought it back. ”My family's gone back to their hotel, and they're they're what's wrong.” what's wrong.”

”Oh no. I'm sorry.”

”Can you just please come over here? I need you.”

”Give me thirty minutes.”

My phone served as a good time-killer while I waited for Max. I checked Twitter to see what was up with the people I was following, and the trending topics. Nothing much interested me. So I opened the browser and went to People magazine, where they had photos from the red carpet at the Emmys.

I thought about that night Max took me to the movie premier in New York City. My first red carpet event. Maybe my last, too. But I didn't care. Seeing how extraordinarily glamorous the women looked made me feel like a poser by comparison. I had no business even thinking I could pull that off.

I snapped out of my downward spiral thinking when I heard a key in the door. It was either Krystal, or it could be Max, who had a key, but it was a little too early for that. He'd said to give him thirty minutes.

I stayed on the couch but looked at the door as the k.n.o.b turned slowly. Krystal sneaking in, I thought.

Then I froze. My mouth went dry. My eyes widened and stayed there.

Holy f.u.c.k. Chris....

TWELVE

I sat in shock on the couch as he crossed the threshold of my apartment.

He held up one hand. ”It's okay,” he said in a calm voice.

I shot up to my feet. ”Get the f.u.c.k out!”

He closed the door and locked it without turning around. He faced me the whole time. His expression was serious, intense, crazy....

Luckily I had my phone in my hand. I raised it to dial 911.

Chris rushed me. I didn't have time to evade his quick movement. His arms wrapped around me, bear-hugging me from the side, almost crus.h.i.+ng me. With one hand, he tried to pry the phone away from me, but I clutched it like my life depended on it because it probably did.

He was breathing heavily through clenched teeth, and I felt his saliva spraying against my cheek when he exhaled.

”Help! Get the f.u.c.k f.u.c.k away away from me! Help!” from me! Help!”

”Give it up.”

”Let me go! Help me Help me!”