Page 113 of Last Night Was Fun

“Then you have to make him listen,” he said definitively.

“What?” Emmy asked with a frown.

Pedro clapped her on the shoulder again. “Look, we both knowthat guy is stubborn as hell, so don’t give him a choice not to listen. Go big. Grand gesture. Put him in a position where he’ll hear you no matter what, and then at least you’ll know you did everything you could.”

“I agree. Do something epic,” Silas added.

Emmy’s heart lifted a fraction at the thought of having a shot at fixing things. But how? Gabe wasn’t responding to her messages. “How do I do that?”

Pedro tapped his chin like he was thinking about it. “Skywriting, radio shoutout, song dedication at a concert—”

“Realistic things, Torres,” Emmy said.

He frowned at her right as Silas said, “Game in LA tonight. You could show up and find him at the stadium.”

“Ooh, I like this idea,” Pedro said. An enthusiastic grin stretched across his face. “Go out of your way to get to him. He’ll have to listen if you traveled all that way just to see him.”

“But it’s just LA. It’s not like I’m flying to London to find him,” she said, and immediately wanted to take the words back based on the flat stares they were giving her. Hopping a flight to Europe would surely be more convenient than making the drive from San Diego to Los Angeles on a weekday. “You’re totally right. That’s a powerful statement,” she said with a repentant nod.

“Damn right it is,” Pedro said. “If willingly driving to LA in rush-hour traffic isn’t a profession of love, I don’t know what is.”

Emmy flushed again, feeling the thrill of possibility. Would it work? Would showing up at the game be enough to make him listen? The thought of the pained look on his face from her building camera stabbed her in the heart. Even if she had ruined everything, she at least had to try.

She checked the time, and her heart sank. “First pitch is in three hours. I’ll never make it before the game.”

Pedro puffed out his chest like he’d been called in from the dugout. He clapped his hands and smiled at her. “Fear not, Jameson. Iwill get you to LA in three hours! Come on.” He pivoted for the door, and Silas swung it open.

Emmy knew Pedro had a knack for talking his way into anything, but she was almost certain his persuasive skills didn’t transfer to time travel. Getting to LA before the game started would be nothing short of a miracle. But still, she had hope.

“In rush-hour traffic?” she called into the hall as she followed him.

“In rush-hour traffic!” Pedro responded without turning around. He shot his fist into the air like a rally cheer. “Let’s go!”

Chapter23

As it turned out, Pedro’s solution to getting to LA in three hours was simply driving really, really fast. Emmy half expected him to manifest a speedboat or a helicopter that would allow them to sidestep the highway, but no. It was simply his black BMW she currently sat in the back seat of, making good use of the aptly namedoh shithandle above the door.

She’d given Beth the front seat because one, she wasn’t about to embark on a desperate grand gesture without her best friend there for support so of course they’d stopped to pick her up, and two, the instant connection between Pedro and Beth had been tangible enough to choke a horse, to use Pedro’s words.

Emmy had reported the emergency to Beth and got her instant approval to pick her up from work on the way out of town. First, they had to clear their departure with Alice. Silas opted to stay behind since he had an obligation that night but asked to be kept in the loop. Emmy hadn’t felt too bad about telling Alice she needed to leave early. Alice had said many wise things to her over the years buthold on like hellmight have been the most important.

That’s exactly what she was doing—literally gripping the handle in Pedro’s car while he wove in and out of traffic, and holding on to hope she wasn’t too late with Gabe.

Pedro and Beth sat in the front seat chatting like they were on a date.

When they’d pulled up outside Beth’s office building and she came bouncing out in jeans and a button-down with her hair trailingbehind her like a golden flag, Pedro all but leapt out of the car. He’d come around to open the door for her, and Emmy introduced them. It was the first time she’d ever seen Pedro speechless, and Beth blushed deeper than with anyone she’d ever swiped right on. Now Emmy was basically third wheeling from the back seat and listening to them flirt.

The sound made her smile.

She watched the continuous stretch of commercial development pass outside the window as they drove through Orange County. The rows of houses draped over the rolling hills like tile and stucco blankets in the distance. The mansions wedged into hillsides like crashed meteors. Sunset was approaching by the time the spires of downtown LA came into view. Despite Pedro driving like they were in the Grand Prix, they miraculously had not gotten a speeding ticket, crashed, or otherwise caused an issue on the road, save for a few horns and thrown middle fingers.

Emmy was nearly breathless as they wound the uphill road to the stadium, feeling like she’d run there in all the rushing. Cars jammed the parking lot, as expected. They’d tuned to the game on the radio and were minutes away from first pitch. Gabe’s new job meant he’d most likely be in the bullpen, perhaps the dugout. Either way, he’d be more or less on the field in a place she couldn’t easily get to once the game started.

They parked, and Emmy took deep breaths to calm herself. They’d left straight from their office, so she still wore jeans and a button-down. Her hair was bound back in a bun, and her ID badge hung on its lanyard around her neck. Pedro and Beth looked nearly the same, except Beth had stripped down to just her camisole, applied an impressive face of makeup from her limited emergency purse stash, and tousled her hair into beachy waves. The look had rendered Pedro speechless again, but it was all part of the plan to get into the stadium.

“Ready?” Beth asked Emmy when they climbed out of the car.The sun had continued its descent toward the ocean, turning the evening hazy blue. The smell of fried food, hot dogs, and beer threaded through the air as the pregame entertainment poured out of the stadium: music, cheering, the uninhibited joy of sports. Emmy felt it all coursing through her veins, pounding in her heart.

“Yes,” she answered Beth.