by Callie Blake
For once in her life, she’d taken on the Kensie role and specifically gone out to defy Russell. She wanted to see Connor, and she wanted to send her uncle a giant fuck you, so meeting Connor at his bar seemed like a pretty good move.
But then, as if he somehow knew exactly what she was doing, Russell sent a few texts.
RUSSELL: Don’t be stupid Peyton. I have the email that could put the hammer on his career already sitting in my drafts. I have eyes and ears all over this city, and if I hear about you so much as waving to him across the street, I’m hitting send.
RUSSELL: I have a driver ready to pick you up at the apartment in 30 minutes. He’ll take you to a hotel I have booked for you in and from there, you and I will figure out where you should go.
RUSSELL: No sense in making it hard on yourself. You know you don’t deal well with the guilt of screwing up people’s lives.
Peyton’s hands shook as she tried her best not to be swayed. Sitting there, she closed her eyes and tried to weigh the pros and cons of marching into that tavern, throwing her arms around Connor and kissing him like she so desperately wanted. She started with the pros.
No one’s ever made you feel the way he makes you feel.
You’ve never been happier than when you’re with him.
He makes you remember that you’re a person, too. And that you count.
Peyton swallowed the knot in her throat as she thought about he last reason. And you love him.
She knew it fully now.
It wasn’t the same as falling in love with him, like she’d confessed to him herself. Falling implied that she was in the process, but in the back of that cab, Peyton was suddenly sure she was there.
She loved Connor.
He was the first person in her life who stopped and actually thought of her. What she wanted to do, what made her happy. And she loved him for that. She loved who he was, how he got there – everything in his life that brought him to the place he was at now. She loved how much he loved his parents. She welled with pride for him and all the amazing things he’d achieved despite so many things working against him.
Screw ninety-nine point nine.
She was a hundred percent in love. All she wanted was to give Connor everything he gave her. And so she knew now.
She knew exactly what she had to do.
“All ready?” the cabbie asked as he peered at Peyton through the rearview mirror. The breath she drew in was shaky but she answered with confidence.
“All ready. Let’s go.”
24
The room was quiet for far longer than Connor could handle.
Sitting backwards on a chair, he raked his hand across his jaw, waiting for Liam to say something. It felt like an eternity had passed by the time he let go of a hard breath and handed Connor his phone back.
“Damn. Guess this is what it feels like to be dumped via text.”
“Not the most useful thing for me to hear right now.”
“I’m sorry,” Liam said genuinely. He knew not to fuck around this time because the situation was serious. Connor had made that clear within the first four hours that he hadn’t heard from her.
Staring out at his empty Mercer Street tavern, Connor tried to figure out where the hell Peyton could be. She was supposed to meet him right there in that room last night at 8PM. She had been the one to call him and breathlessly tell him that she needed to see him.
But 8PM came and it passed. So did nine, ten, eleven and twelve. By midnight – four hours and countless unanswered calls later – Connor was bordering on panic. He was in the midst of calling Kensie when the screen of his phone lit wit Peyton’s text.
PEYTON: Connor I’m sorry. I wanted to pick up. I wanted to call you and explain but I couldn’t get my voice steady enough to speak and I didn’t want to scare you. So despite the fact that you deserve so much better, I’m telling you through text that I have to be away for a little. I’m out of state now. I just wanted to say that I meant every word I’ve ever said to you. Thank you for everything you did for me. You opened up my world like no one else ever could or cared to.
And that was it.
There was no closer, not even the word “goodbye” in her text. It just… left off. And it drove Connor insane. It rattled his brain every time he read it, and it had him everything from pissed one second to desperately aching for her the next.
Because he knew this wasn’t just her.
Whatever this was, it had either Blake or Russell’s stink all over it, and every time Connor thought about that, his muscles twitched with the need to beat the shit out of someone.
“Easy,” Liam said, detecting the rage that returned to Connor’s eyes. He watched him closely even as he went to get a bottle of water from the fridge. “Breathe, asshole,” he said. “I’m not letting you kill anyone today.”
“I know. It’s the only reason I called you to come here,” Connor said. He’d talked himself down from storming Russell’s office twice before Liam arrived. He wasn’t so sure he’d make it a third time.
“You said neither she nor Kensie were at the apartment?” Liam confirmed as he leaned back on the bar.
“I went there this morning. The guy at the door said neither of them have been home since last night.”
“But you know where Kensie’s shooting. Go find her now and ask her what she knows. Why isn’t that the obvious choice?” Liam frowned.
“Because if Peyton’s gone, Kensie’s probably a mess. And if Kensie’s a mess, there aren’t a whole lot of coherent directions for our conversation to go,” Connor said, though once he said it, he felt a pang of guilt. “Fuck. She’s probably a wreck right now.”
Liam’s eyebrows shot up. “You actually care about Kensie Cohan’s feelings?” he asked dubiously.
“Yes,” Connor muttered. “Because I know Peyton cares, and I know that wherever she is right now, she’s probably at least fifty percent worried about how Kensie’s doing.”
“Wow. She taught you empathy. How about that.”
“Fuck off.”
“Alright, alright,” Liam laughed. “Back to thinking. Where could Peyton be…” He drummed his fingers on the barstool. “She’s got no one else in New York she could stay with?”
“No.”
“Any family?”
“Her mom, but she’s not exactly stable. And they’re not exactly close,” Connor said, pain twisting in his chest as he thought about exactly how many people in the world had Peyton’s back. Save for Kensie – who only counted when she wasn’t steeped in some mental breakdown – it was only him. It wasn’t fair.
“And there’s no one but the doorman who might’ve seen her before she packed up and left?” Liam asked. “There’s nowhere she would’ve needed to go first?”
Connor blinked.
Shit.
He jumped up the second he thought of the idea, narrowly beating Liam to the door. Glancing at his watch, he noted the time.
Perfect. About the same time as the last time I was there.
“Hey! Asshole! Where are you going?” Liam called after Connor, chasing him onto the sidewalk and grabbing the back of his shirt. “Swear to me you’re not going to find Russell Cohan and put him in a chokehold.”
“I swear I’m not, asshole,” Connor muttered over his shoulder as he hailed a cab. “Now let go of my shirt. I’ve got somewhere to go.”
“Going to get the girl?” Liam grinned. Connor snorted at his stupid face as he climbed into the cab.
“In the process,” he called out the window just as the car sped off.
25
Unlike last time, the door to the studio was open, meaning Connor didn’t have to deal with the creaky hinges alerting the entire room to his presence. It gave him time to make sure that the person he needed to talk to was even there.
Scanning all the heads of long hair and ponytails sitting in front of canvases, Connor looked for Hailey. She was the girl he’d seen once at Mila Milani’s rooftop, and then again when he came
to pick up Peyton for their trip to the farmhouse. It took awhile since the studio was more crowded than usual, but finally, at the very back of the room, he saw her bobbing her head to whatever was playing on her headphones.
But just as he headed for her, some girl spotted him.
“Oh. My. God!”
Her sharp gasp pierced the silent room like a dagger, and suddenly, all twenty heads turned at once, their faces wide-eyed and open-mouthed as they stared at Connor. Jesus Christ, he almost laughed to himself. It was kind of creepy. It almost felt like he was standing in some haunted doll factory where all the toys had just come to life.
“Uh. Hey,” he smiled awkwardly.
His footsteps echoed in the hushed room as he walked a bit slower toward the crowd of girls now. Phones were out at this point. He could hear the camera sounds going off, which wasn’t ideal, but fuck it. He was here and aside from Hailey, who stared in pure, red-faced shock at him from across the room, he had twenty other pairs of eyes that might be able to help him find Peyton. So weird as it was, he was sticking around – at least till he got some usable info.
Clearing his throat, Connor spoke up.
“Listen, I don’t know how many of you know Peyton Greene. I know at least one of you does, but I’m looking for her right now, so if any of you have seen her in the past twenty-four hours, I’ll… I don’t know, give you whatever you want that I can provide,” Connor said, trying to think on his feet. “Cash, tickets to a premiere, whatever. I just want to know where Peyton went,” he said earnestly.
There was a second of quiet before some girl on the left called out.
“Can you take your shirt off?”
Connor smirked as that side of the room burst into giggles.
“If you know can tell me where my girlfriend is, sure,” he said, “but otherwise, it’s staying on.”
“Dammit!”
Another burst of giggles came, but the air went quiet again shortly after, and the girls went back to staring in weird, silent awe as Connor walked slowly toward them.
Jesus Christ. It felt like he was on stage with a spotlight shining directly on him. He fucking hated it. It was exactly why he’d never want to be an actor, but he sucked it up because he knew with certainty that Peyton had to have come here before she left.
She wouldn’t leave the sunflowers behind.
Her painting. Connor remembered that she’d left it here last time, before the left for Connecticut. It was wet, it was her baby, and now that it was dry, Connor suspected she had brought it with her to wherever she was going.
In fact, a quick glance at the racks confirmed that her canvas was gone.
“Um… Mr. Schaffer?”
Connor’s head whipped around. The voice that spoke was so shy and small it took him a good second to figure out where it came from. But the second he spotted the girl who said his name – a petite, short-haired blonde in the corner – he made an eager beeline for her.
“Hey.” He knelt immediately beside her and watched her blush, stumbling over her words since the whole class was staring. Connor gave her a reassuring smile as he held his hand out. “Sorry. Should’ve introduced myself first. I’m Connor.”
“I know who you are,” she laughed quietly. “I’m Liz. I’m a big fan and I, um, just wanted to say that I saw Peyton here last night around ten, before closing.”
“Really?” Connor felt oddly breathless out nowhere. “Did she – ”
“She had one of those rolling suitcases with her,” the blonde said. “And she kind of got into an argument with…” she trailed off to nod subtly at Hailey. “So… I think you wanna talk to her.”
“Thought so,” Connor said as he shared a quiet laugh with her. “Thank you, Liz. I appreciate it,” he said just as the longhaired brunette next to Liz tapped his shoulder.
“Hey, are you in the market for a second girlfriend? I read you generally keep two at a time,” she said with a flirty grin. Connor had to laugh.
“Sorry, it’s just Peyton. And don’t believe everything you read,” he said over his shoulder as he headed for Hailey.
Man, this was becoming a process. And judging from the sour look on Hailey’s face, it was about to get a little harder.
“I have nothing to say to you,” she said stiffly as he approached. “Or Peyton.”
“Why?” Connor snorted as he watched her turn her nose up and continue painting. Pulling a stool over, he took a seat and furrowed his brow at her. “What did Peyton ever do to you? I’m curious to know.”
Hailey said nothing but it didn’t come as a surprise. From what little Peyton let herself tell him, Hailey had no motive to suddenly turn on their friendship. No legitimate one at least.
“Fine. I’m not here to mediate whatever fight you’ve got going on with her. If you’re no longer interested in that friendship I can promise you it’s no one’s loss but your own,” Connor said. “All I ask right now is that you tell me something that’ll help me find Peyton. I don’t care if you don’t want her – just let me have her. Alright? I’m not going to leave you alone about her till you give me something, Hailey.” Her eyes flicked to him when he said her name so he tried it again. “Hailey, please. Tell me anything she said. Anything you might know about where she went.”
Hailey’s gaze fell into her lap. She touched her red cheeks with the back of her hand then took in a deep breath.
“So, you’re serious. You really like her,” she said. Connor stared like she was nuts.
“I would think that was obvious. I’m sitting in a completely silent room full of strangers recording me on their phones right now. This is my actual nightmare but I’m biting the bullet because I’m praying you’ll help me find Peyton.”
“Do you love her?” Hailey challenged.
“Yes. Now talk to me,” Connor said, disguising the fact that he’d surprised even himself with the blunt speed of his reply. Hailey stared at him for several seconds, the look in her eyes a glassy mix of shock and wounded envy. But then she heaved a sigh.
“She kept checking to make sure she had her passport before she left the studio. That’s all I’ve got.”
Christ, her passport? “So she was going overseas. She didn’t say where?”
“No.”
Connor’s gaze floated off for a moment as he thought about where she could be. He stared blankly at the wall for a few seconds, replaying every conversation he’d ever had with Peyton till his train of thought screeched to a halt at his memory of their date night at his tavern.
“Nooo, don’t go!” a few girls cooed as Connor rose suddenly from his chair, ignoring the chorus of giggles and camera shutters that followed him out the door.
26
This helps, Peyton thought.
A ghost of a smile touched the corner of her lips as she sat up in bed, staring out the little arched window in her room.
The view outside was breathtaking – unlike anything she’d ever seen. The rows of olive groves stood in such straight, neat lines, and the grassy hills were such a brilliant shade of green that it barely felt real. It looked like a picture plucked straight from a fairytale book.
Which helped.
Peyton had figured it would. The scratchy hollowness she felt since leaving Connor still hurt like a bitch, but every once in awhile, the stunning views out her window numbed her brain and her pain. It made everything feel unreal, like a dream.
And apparently, it sometimes helped to pretend that her whirlwind with Connor had all been a dream.
“Buongiorno, Peyton!” Sofia chirped when Peyton finally made her way downstairs from her tiny rented room.
She had rejected Russell’s offer of money. Obviously. There was no way in hell she was letting that cold, remorseless prick fund another day of her life. She’d rather drown in credit card debt than accept another dime from him – and unfortunately, she likely would. After the discount for booking a long-term stay, her room at Sofia’s house cost about fifty dollars a night. Not too bad, but tac
k her car rental and food costs, and she was sure to be in the red in a bit less than two months.
But she’d figure something out.
That was what she told herself at least. Besides, it was just the price to pay to do the right thing. If she stayed in the States, Peyton knew she couldn’t resist seeing Connor. She also knew he’d somehow find her, and the reality was that she was scared of what Russell could do. The entirety of Hollywood knew that her uncle was a powerful, vindictive man, and Peyton simply wouldn’t survive knowing that she’d ruined yet another life. As a kid, she had been crushed when her lie ended her aunt’s marriage to Russell, effectively breaking up Kensie’s household. As an adult, she had teetered at the edge of a breakdown when her whole thing with Blake resulted in Kensie’s month-long disappearance.
So she knew she couldn’t afford a third strike.
And certainly not with Connor.
He was the only person who’d ever been truly good to her, who didn’t in any way use her. He was the only person who really looked at and listened to her, and she refused to reward him for that by putting a hammer on his career. Between it and her, she couldn’t quite convince herself that he loved the latter more. It was a ridiculous notion.
So she forced herself to leave and come here – to stay in a tiny Tuscan village she’d never been to and certainly couldn’t pronounce.
“Did you sleep okay without the fan?” Sofia asked as she presented Peyton a perfectly foamy cappuccino in a little blue and white saucer.
“Yes, I slept just fine,” Peyton smiled genuinely to cover her lie. She hadn’t slept fine, but it wasn’t due to lack of AC as Sofia feared – it was more the constant scooting back in her bed and expecting to nestle against a warm, hard chest. For God’s sake, Peyton. In just three days at the farmhouse, her body had found its new normal. It had felt the glory of being held by Connor Schaffer at night, and it had declared that its new standard for sleeping.