Wildest Dreams

32. Pierre

PIERRE

I t’s New Year’s Eve and I’m at a party in Laurel Canyon. A ton of people from the industry are here, a mix of older artists who have been famous for longer than I’ve been alive, people my age who are here to network, and younger hangers-on who want to take pictures for their social media.

I know a lot of people in the room. I even consider some of them to be friends. I should be having fun, but I’m not feeling it. Not tonight.

I make my apologies to the host and leave early. It takes forever for the valet to get my car, but I finally leave and make my way through the dark, windy roads of the canyon towards home in Bel Air.

Then my phone dings. It’s Kendall.

I’m so shocked and distracted I nearly run off the side of a cliff as I try to navigate a curve. I put my phone down. I can’t look until I’m in a better spot.

Once I see a gas station, I pull over and pick up my phone. It’s a sweet thinking-of-you message, but it’s like oxygen to a drowning man.

I stare at it hard for a solid minute, fighting back tears.

She finally reached out. This is all I’ve wanted for months and it finally happened.

I reply back.

I’m so happy to hear from you. It’s a nice night but I’m missing you. How have you been?

Then I wait. And wait. And wait. I even go into the gas station and buy a bottle of water and some gum to kill time before I start driving again.

She doesn’t respond. I finally give up and continue home. I walk in well before midnight, so I fix a drink and go to the back yard. My house is on the side of a mountain and has a panoramic view of the whole area. The stars are obscured by pollution, but the city lights on the horizon twinkle in the darkness.

I turn on the outdoor speakers, put on some Jim Croce, strip down to my underwear, and get into my hot tub with my drink and my phone. I look at the screen, willing Kendall to respond.

Finally, when my toes are pruned and it’s after midnight, I turn off my music and head to bed. On my nightstand is a photo of us on Patsy’s boat from the day we spent floating on the Florablanca River. It’s the last thing I see before I fall asleep.

* * *

T he next morning, Harriett comes over to drop off my groceries. I’ve just gotten up and I know I look like hell from a night of restless sleep.

“Jesus,” Harriett says as soon as she sees me. “Party too hard last night?”

“No. I was actually home by eleven. I finally heard from Kendall.”

“Not this again.” She’s heard me whine about Kendall so much over the past few months that I know I sound like a broken record. “What did she say?”

“That she hopes I have a good New Year’s Eve.”

“Drunk text?”

“Maybe? I responded asking her how she’s doing, but she didn’t say anything.”

“She’s playing games. You need to get over this girl.”

“No, I don’t think she is.”

As if on cue, my phone rings and Kendall’s face pops up. My heart skips a beat.

“Told you,” I say to Harriett, who gives me a look as she unpacks my groceries.

I take the phone back to my room and answer. My palms are sweating and I nearly drop it.

“Hey, Pierre.” She sounds like music, sending butterflies straight to my gut.

“Kendall, it’s great to hear your voice.”

“Yours too. I’m sorry I haven’t talked to you in a long time. I’ve been sorting myself out.”

“No, it’s okay. I totally get it.”

“I have missed you, though.”

I exhale a deep breath. It’s everything I’ve wanted to hear for months. “God, I miss you too.”

“How have you been?”

“Good, I guess. I just finished all the promo stuff for that action movie I told you about. Pretty soon the same press tour will gear up for Gossamer Road . So, you know, work stuff.”

“After that?”

“I haven’t signed on for anything beyond that. I’m trying to figure things out myself.”

“Well,” she says, her tone lighter, “I guess you really liked that shirt I bought you.”

I smile. “So you’ve been cyberstalking me?”

“No, Patsy has.”

“Ah. Of course. How is Patsy?”

“She’s good. Just chasing young’uns around as usual.”

I chuckle, then we settle into an awkward silence.

“Listen, Kendall, I know we said we were going to leave things and let them end when I left town, but I miss you so much I can’t stand it.”

“I know. Me too.”

“Can I see you again? I’ll fly you out here, or I can go there while I have down time. Hell, we can both take off and go to Europe for a month if that’s what you want. I don’t care. I only want to be with you.”

“Well, I can’t go anywhere for the next few months. January kicks off tax season.”

“Oh, yeah. Of course.”

“But you’re welcome to keep me company here. I’ll be working late most nights until the end of April. It’ll be super boring for you, but you’re more than welcome to stay as long as you want and distract me when I’m ready to pull my hair out.”

“I’d love that,” I say. “I’ll be your housewife and have dinner ready for you each night.”

“That sounds amazing,” she says. “I’ve always wanted a housewife.”

“How soon can I come?”

“As soon as you like.”

We end the call, and though I want to tell her I love her, I decide to wait and do it in person. I go to the kitchen, where Harriett has finished unpacking my groceries.

“You might as well repack all the food and take it home with you,” I say.

“What? Why?”

“I need you to book me a flight to Atlanta asap. And drive me to the airport.”

She raises her eyebrows. “Okay.”