Mia turned off airplane mode as soon as her flight landed at LAX. Her phone buzzed with multiple notifications. Texts and calls from Brooke, Nolan, and Lettie.
Great. What now?
She couldn’t take more bad news. She ignored the notifications, making her way toward baggage claim instead. A college-age girl lingering around one of the gates homed in on her face. Mia looked away, tugging her cap lower.
She’d been in survival mode since she’d left the inn. Left Levi. Busying herself with activity: notifying Lettie of her impending arrival, reading the script Nolan had sent, catching up on email between flights. Somehow she’d managed a nap on the second flight.
She didn’t brave another look at her phone until she reached baggage claim. And even then she took a moment to prepare herself for the worst. But how much worse could it be? She’d already lost her reputation and the biggest role of her life.
Oh, and Levi.
She listened to Nolan’s voicemail first. “Hey, kiddo. I know you’re probably in the air right now, but I wanted to let you know the latest. It’s good news this time, Mia. It was just released that Emma was behind those photos of you and Jax. She hired a PI some time ago to catch him in compromising situations. It seems she’s the one having an affair and wants a divorce. She wanted the fans in her corner before she filed for separation. The source of the comments is reputable—one of Emma’s friends—so I think this one’s gonna stick. Good news for us.”
It was over. Mia’s shoulders sank in relief even as guilt pinched hard. A marriage, a family, was wrecked. What a terrible thing for Emma to do to her husband and unborn child. Not to mention Mia. Emma’s “America’s sweetheart” reputation was going to be in shreds after this.
Head still spinning, Mia clicked over to Brooke’s voicemail. It said much the same thing as Nolan’s, with the addition that there was now speculation over whether or not the baby Emma was carrying was even Jax’s.
Oh boy. What a publicity nightmare for Emma. But she’d brought it on herself.
As the news sank in, Mia took a moment to breathe a prayer of gratitude. The truth had come out, just as she’d prayed. Thank You, God. Thank You. She could hardly think beyond that, such was her relief. Just like that, her reputation had been restored.
Her phone rang. Nolan.
She slipped away from the crowd. “Hey, I just got your voicemail. I can hardly believe it.”
“You can believe it. The friend who gave up Emma even gave her name. She said she couldn’t stand by anymore and let Emma do this to innocent people.”
“I guess that friendship is over.”
“Fair guess. And I have even better news for you. Maura just called. The studio would like to extend their apologies for acting prematurely—and they’d like to re-offer you the part of Fiona. They understand if you’ve moved on, but they haven’t been able to find anyone who holds a candle to you. They’re willing to up their offer.”
Mia’s mouth dropped at the figure Nolan casually rattled off. She would’ve jumped at the chance with no increase in salary.
“I can go back to them with a higher number,” Nolan said when she didn’t respond immediately.
“That’s more than I expected. Much more.”
“They don’t have to know that. At least make them squirm a little.”
Mia chuckled. “I’m just glad to get the role back.”
“You do your job, and I’ll do mine,” he said, his tone wry. “This is a happy day, Mia. Let’s celebrate over dinner once you’re settled.”
Mia was walking in her back door by the time she remembered the little package Levi had handed her. She’d been on the phone with Brooke the entire ride home. When she arrived she had the driver crawl through the swarm of reporters at her curb. She could hear them shouting through her window.
“Mia, what do you want to say to your fans?”
“What do you think of Emma’s actions?”
“Do you feel vindicated, Mia?”
“Mia, how do you feel about Jax Jordan?”
Shaking away the questions, she pulled her suitcase to the base of the stairs and dropped her carry-on bag beside it. The house smelled of artificial pine. She knew the difference now, she realized, after taking in the authentic scent of mountain pine for five weeks.
She walked across the expanse of the living room, her heels clicking on the ceramic tile—the only noise in the house. A cold and sterile sound. Her eyes swept the living space. The black Italian leather living room suite, special ordered. The white luxurious rug spanning the space. Those were the only soft things in the room. Everything else was glass and metal and concrete, the architecture bearing a sort of stark beauty.
She grabbed her bags and headed up the glass steps. She suddenly missed the charm of squeaky wooden floors, cozy furnishings with a hodgepodge of knickknacks, and the ever-present sound of people moving about.
Once in her room she dropped her bags and reached into her purse. The small package had sunk to the bottom, but she found it with little trouble. She pulled it out, her heart suddenly beating too fast. This, whatever it was, was her last contact with Levi. There was already an ache where her heart rested.
She held the package in her palm, feeling its weight, wondering what it might be. Some trinket she’d pointed out in a shop, probably. A souvenir. A memento of a place and person she’d never see again. Or maybe it was the engraved watch they’d found in the attic—possibly her grandmother’s.
She wasn’t ready to face it, this last connection between them. She opened a dresser drawer and placed the package beneath the folds of silky lingerie where she wouldn’t have to see it until she was ready.