Page 26 of Lance

“Lance?” Her voice remains familiar, even after all these years. Angie Cates, my first and only love. The one that got away. I snort quietly. And now, apparently, the one that won’t rest until she succeeds in driving me crazy. Dylan passes me on the way to his car, giving me an encouraging thumbs-up. James passes behind Haylee and Layla, also barking into his phone as he walks. “I want you to come and see me,” he snaps. “Today. Or I’m comingthere.”

I wave at them, trying not to think about who he’s talking to, and direct my attention back to myphone.

“I told you to stop calling, Angie,” I say. “My schedule is insane right nowand—”

“I’m in town,” she says, and I stop walking. Angie ishere?

“I just need a few minutes,” she continues. “I can come to you, if that’s easier. Whatever youwant.”

“What is this about,Angie?”

There’s a long silence on the other end of the line. When she speaks again, her voice sounds different. Not so manic, so desperate. She sounds…sad, I guess. Sad and tired. “It would be a lot easier to explain in person,” she says. “I won’t take up too much of your time. But I need to see you, Lance. Will you please just trustme?”

I release a breath, knowing I could very well be making what is already an annoying situation much worse. Angie hasn’t sounded entirely stable the few times we’ve talked since I got to LA. Do I really want to get more involved? On the other hand, I’ve had about enough of her calling. Maybe once I find out what’s up with her I can shut thisdown.

“Fine. I have some time this afternoon. There’s a bar in my hotel, we can meetthere.”

“Thank you,” she murmurs, her voice thick with some emotion I can’t read. “It means a lot tome.”

“I only have a few minutes,” I add in warning. “I have work thisevening.”

“That’s fine.” She sounds more together now, her voice less emotional, almost cold compared to the breathless, passionate plea of her recent messages. “A few minutes is all Ineed.”

I give her the name of the hotel and end the call as I climb into my car, trying to tell myself that with any luck I’ll be rid of the annoying calls in a fewhours.

So why do I have such a bad feeling aboutit?

* * *

Back at the hotel,I leave my car with the valet and head into the lobby. I probably have enough time to head up for a quick shower before she gets here. The sign for the bar catches my eye. Or I could do a little pre-drinking.

Before I can make up my mind, a woman steps in front of me, distracted by her phone. Trying to stop myself from running straight into her, I pull back, stumbling, and jostle her with myshoulder.

She spins around. “I’m so sorry—” She stops mid-sentence, eyes goingwide.

“Willa?”

“Lance,” she says, her voice more squeaky than I remember from those few stolen moments at the party. She looks different too, dressed in jeans and aStar Trekt-shirt, her face devoid of the heavy makeup she’d worn that night, hair pulled up in a simple ponytail. But her eyes, the very first thing that had caught my attention that night, are the same. That dark blue, almost navy color that even now makes it feel a little harder to breathe. Without planning to, I find myself taking a few stepscloser.

“I didn’t expect to see you,” she says, and I realize that she’s blushing. “I came to see James and I, uh,just—”

“I know,” I cut in. She’s nervous, stammering, her eyes flickering everywhere except for my face. And I don’t like it. I don’t know why, but I don’t want her to be nervous with me. “He’s worried aboutyou.”

The embarrassed expression on her face shifts quickly into one of annoyance. “Becausehehas any right to be judgmental of my choices,” she mutters. “The kid who dropped out of school when he was seventeen.” She glares at me. “What?”

I shake myself a little, realizing belatedly that I was staring at her. Her cheeks have gone pink in her anger, her eyesflashing.

And she’s fuckinggorgeous.

“What?” she snaps again and I feel my lips curling up in a smile. I guess her being pissed at me is better than her beingscared.

“Come on,” I tell her, tilting my head toward the bar behind us. “Let’s grab adrink.”

Her eyes widen once more. “I’m supposed to let James know I’mhere.”

“James can wait five minutes while we have a drink. I want to talk toyou.”

She only hesitates for a moment before nodding. I have the strangest urge to take her hand as I lead her through the crowded lobby so I shove my hands in my pockets.Get it together, man, I tell myself.You’re supposed to be fixing your fuckup, not making itworse.