Page 109 of Hard Count
“I heard you.”
“You’re going to respect it.” Piper looked into Noah’s eyes with seriousness.
“I’m going to respect it.”
Neither of them moved.
After a minute, Piper said, “Do you believe that?”
“No.”
“Do I?”
“No.”
“Okay.”
Noah’s hand on his back stayed put.
Piper sat up. It was time.
He found the towel on the floor. He wrapped it around his waist.
He went to the small shower and turned the water on cold and stood under it. When he came out, Noah was dressed.
He stood near the door with his hand on the door knob and was not looking at him on purpose.
“Go first,” Noah said.
“Okay.”
“Don’t text me when you get to the hotel.”
“Okay.”
“Don’t text me again.”
“Okay.”
Noah opened the door. The hallway was empty.
Piper stepped out.
He walked the corridor in the half-lit stadium with his sweats back on and his cap back on and his body still carrying the heat of the room. He went out through the side door. The air outside was cold and tasted like rain. His Uber was two blocks away. He walked the two blocks without being recognized. He got in the car and the driver drove to the hotel.
He lay on the bed, tears flowing. His breathing was erratic.
Chapter Thirty-Nine: Los Angeles to New York City
Vivienne Cross took the first flight out of LAX on Tuesday. She flew commercial to NYC, which was always a fucking problem for Vivienne.
Henry Weiss met her at The Grill in Midtown Manhattan. Vivienne arrived a little after 5 p.m.
Henry was seventy-one. He had represented a laundry list of stars, CEO’s, politicians, and anyone with money and a messy problem to solve.
He was four-foot-seven and had seen it all.
He stood up when Vivienne came in.
