A New York Minute

by Ember Leigh

  He shrugged, watching her with an honest mix of confusion and trepidation. “My shift just started, ma’am. This was all done by the employee who left already.”

  Figures. She tapped out a fast beat on the countertop, unsure where to go from here. She was still damp from the sauna, hair a mess, bathing suit dangling from her wrist. She had to find Gary and then Josh. They’d have to know something.

  “Please keep an eye on my things until I’m back,” she said, chest tight as she walked away. “I’m going to go figure out what’s going on.”

  “But ma’am, the transfer will be here any minute.”

  Her stomach knotted further. “What transfer?”

  “To the airport. There’s a note here for your reservation. Your charter flight leaves at eight.”

  Now she was floored. She narrowed her eyes at the clerk, wondering what the chances were she’d misheard him. Maybe she’d even misheard the entire conversation. Maybe she was still in the sauna in a steam-induced coma. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  She stormed toward the elevator, furious someone would take the liberty of making a decision like this without her knowledge, much less touch and organize all her things. She jabbed the up button repeatedly; the doors slid open once the elevator arrived and Gary charged out, eyes wild.

  “There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you.” He led her back toward the lobby. “Looks like our stay at the Waldorf Astoria has come to an end.”

  “What the hell is going on? Who packed my stuff, and why was I checked out?”

  “Your stuff is packed because I found it in the hallway, along with mine. You were checked out probably for the same reason I was.”

  “And that reason is…?”

  “Hell if I know.” Gary sighed and approached the receptionist, motioning for him to get their belongings. “Our contract is up and god damn if I can find a single person to ask about it.”

  “So you packed my stuff? How did you get into the room?”

  “I didn’t get into your room or mine. Somebody went in there and took our stuff out. And left it scattered most unprofessionally across the hallway, I might add.” He huffed, wiping at his forehead with the back of his hand as the clerk turned over their bags.

  Paige’s bewilderment had transitioned to a throat-clenching anger. She balled up her fists and muttered, “Stands to reason Josh Lambert would have known about this all along. Funny he didn’t mention anything to us in the sauna, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah, real funny.” They wheeled their suitcases toward the door. “These guys are a bunch of rotten fruits. I can’t wait to get back to civilization. This island air is making me go crazy. Who behaves like this these days? Don’t we deserve a little decency? They could have left a note taped to the door at least.”

  “We’re not dealing with professionals here, Gary.”

  “That’s obvious.” They stood under the awning in the humid evening air. Paige scanned the horizon for any sign of the transfer coming for them.

  “I would love to give Bridgette one last piece of my mind,” she said. “Think I have enough time to hunt her down?”

  “I wouldn’t bet on it. I combed the halls up and down, and I couldn’t find a single person I recognized. Either the rapture happened or they’re in the biggest secretive meeting of their lives.”

  Paige didn’t know how to address the emotions unfurling within her like a poisonous blossom, propelling her toward a level of fury she hadn’t felt since the cancellation. She wanted to scream at Josh, to slap Bridgette in the face multiple times, and to get back to New York as soon as possible.

  Paige scrambled for her phone—she needed something, even an attempt at an explanation. She couldn’t leave with this sour taste of deceit. Completely sideswiped by an asshole she had the idiocy to develop a smidgen of a feeling for.

  You have been so dumb these days, Paige. Unforgivably dumb.

  Fury zipped through her veins as she dialed Josh’s number, connections springing to life in her mind as she realized the Josh she’d gotten to know was probably just a huge lie.

  It went straight to voicemail. She huffed and buried her phone in her purse.

  “It didn’t even ring,” she said. “I hope the rapture is the explanation because that will save Josh and Bridgette a lot of suffering once I finally get a hold of them.”

  “Pff. I wouldn’t bother—this is our good riddance. We’re done with these kooks. Let’s just get back to the city and forget this island ever happened.”

  She crossed her arms tightly and stared into the distance, mouth set in a firm line. “Great idea coming here, by the way.”

  Gary wilted a bit at her words. “Not one of my smarter moves, but I was trying to stay compliant and keep your momentum up. Besides, I had no idea Bridgette had the misfortune of being born. I just hope you don’t fire me.”

  Paige sighed, massaging her temples with her fingertips. There were too many emotions and far too much anger to comprehend. She didn’t know up from down, and the same urgent panic swirled through her as it had after she’d found out her show was being cancelled.

  “I couldn’t fire you, Gary. Not after all we’ve been through.”

  A van bearing the name of a local airport transfer company rounded the corner.

  Paige’s eyes darkened and the simmer in her belly kicked up to a boil. There was a lot she didn’t know about Josh, which meant she could trust precisely nothing from what they’d shared on the island.

  She couldn’t wait to never see him again for the rest of her life.

  Chapter Eleven

  Josh knew there was something wrong before he had any evidence to support it. He wasn’t sure what the defining moment had been—the painful twist of his stomach during the emergency crew meeting, the sudden adaptability on Bridgette’s behalf or the odd haze of contentment that hung around her like freshly spritzed perfume—but something was up, and he was hesitant to find out what new turn awaited him.

  Their emergency meeting had lasted well over an hour and had been suggested—forced, really—by Bridgette and her uncle, an addendum to the meeting they’d had in which Josh had to verbally agree to remain platonic and romantically unaffiliated with all crew members. He massaged his temples as he walked down the hall to his room, more than ready for bed but still willing to risk the verbal agreement he’d made an hour before. Her mere presence might help solve his most recent dilemma—whether or not he should jump ship now or put in his two weeks.

  Bridgette was already in her room, so there was no harm in dropping by Gary’s room and then Paige’s to say goodnight and touch base. It was all work-related, anyway. He approached Gary’s room. Would he still be up at this hour? The meeting had run long but then Bridgette had kept him even longer, re-hashing details, worries, concerns and show points until he imagined his ears bleeding halfway through.

  He knocked lightly, heard no signs of life, and then tried again. No answer. He shuffled toward Paige’s room, stomach knotting as he approached her door. Would now be the time to spill it all to her? The way she’d looked at him as he left the sauna told him he needed to offer up details fast if he wanted her to be any significant part of his personal or professional life. Paige had reached her limit with him. He’d reached his limit with himself, too.

  He knocked lightly and leaned his forehead against the door, willing her to answer. A night in her arms would cure the majority of his malaise for the evening, but her presence, though satisfying, wasn’t the answer. He needed to make a decision. He had to sink further into the shit or climb out of it—there was no sitting half-in, half-out like he’d been trying to do.

  No answer. He knocked again, hand resting on the doorknob, ready to catch it once she answered the door. He couldn’t hear anything inside, not even a distant snore or shower. He waited before knocking again.

  Nothing.

  He retreated into his room as he dialed her number. The phone went straight to voicemail.

 
; Contemplating the inky black ocean and the silhouette of palms dotting the scenery, he called her number again, just to make sure it wasn’t a fluke—she could have been trying to call him the exact second he called her, after all—and then a third and fourth time for good measure. Each call went straight to voicemail.

  He tossed his phone to the side and decided it was time for bed. He needed a good night’s rest, needed to let the dregs from the day settle into a comprehensible sludge at his feet before he decided on the next step. Paige would be there in the morning. He could begin the process of explaining this cluster fuck and be a bit closer to finding a resolution.

  Though as Josh settled into bed, the gnawing in his stomach grew larger despite his professional experience with ignoring and otherwise turning off those pesky intuitive thoughts. The harder he ignored it, the more his intuitive brain was telling him something big lurked just around the corner.

  Josh woke up the next morning as his alarm sounded, both rested and fidgety. His sleep had started off fitfully and then transformed into a deep, penetrating slumber that provided ample breeding ground for creatures to emerge from their shadows. He’d dreamed of painted blonde beasts and castles with the floors removed and never-ending buffets of cheap food and no white wine.

  He also dreamed he’d gone back to the mainland and sold his beloved red sports car for a price far below value. Who are you these days? He had never once considered selling that beauty. That was unnerving, especially because he already knew exactly which car lot to contact first.

  He arrived on set exactly on time. Everyone was present and milling around except for Paige and Gary. Bridgette preened herself in her chair, making faces in a hand mirror and mouthing words with lushly painted red lips. Josh scoured the set first and then headed toward the newsroom—no Paige, no Gary. Something was definitely up.

  He’d been resisting the urge to call Paige from the second he woke up, but decided now was the time. There were several minutes before they rolled, so he ducked into the newsroom to call.

  His stomach flopped as he pressed ‘Send.’ It rang. His heart scaled the wall of his throat and quivered there, waiting. It rang a second time, then a third, then it clicked over to voicemail.

  Maybe she was already on her way down to the set. He hit re-dial. After three rings it clicked over to voicemail. His lips formed a thin line as he peeked out the newsroom window. Still no sign of her or Gary. What the fuck.

  He called again. Third time was the charm. If she didn’t show up within a minute or so, then there really was a problem, and he’d get to the bottom of it. This time, the phone rang once, and in the middle of the second ring, the phone call connected then cut off into silence.

  She hung up on me. He slid his phone into his pocket, mind racing as he mulled his possibilities from here. This was odd behavior, even for Paige. He slipped out of the newsroom, barely noticing the leap in humidity as he walked back to the set, eyes darting everywhere as his brain worked overtime to figure out his next plan of action.

  Bridgette yapped happily to a crew member as he slid into his seat.

  “You ready Joshi?” She practically purred like a cat.

  “We can’t start without Gary and Paige,” he said.

  “Why?”

  Her simple question caught him off guard. There was no leap to jealousy, resentment or anything.

  “Well, the news segment…”

  “That operates apart from this,” she said tersely.

  For once, her authoritative manner made him shut up. She had a little executive inside of her. But she wasn’t dealing with a newbie.

  “You’re right,” he said, “But part of building the team and the brand means involving every member—every limb of the organism, if you will—in the process. Build members, build brand, build success.” He paused, eyeing her carefully. “Do you understand the importance of that?”

  “I do, Joshi. But, I don’t know what to tell you. They’re not here, and we’re starting.” She pointed at the director who signaled for places. Josh tensed, wanting to do anything other than sit in this chair and postpone the mystery of Paige and Gary.

  Moments later they were rolling, and Josh dropped the weight of his unease and launched forward with the segment. Bridgette was on her game, he had to admit, and the amount of flubs was at an all-time low.

  “You did an awesome job,” Josh remarked once the director called a cut. “Your practice is paying off, Bridge.”

  She smiled sweetly, batting her eyes at him. “I know, Joshi. I feel more relaxed today or something.”

  Josh smiled back at her. “Keep up the good work. Give me five minutes, okay? I need to make a call.” He signaled to the director as he walked toward the newsroom again, phone already in hand to call Paige. As soon as the door shut behind him he hit ‘Send’, heart beating wildly as he waited.

  The phone rang an appropriate amount of times before it clicked over to her voicemail. She must be on the other end if she’d hung up on him once. But the question was, where was the other end? The idea percolated in his gut that it might not be the island at all.

  Just before it clicked over to voicemail again, she picked up. His heart thudded.

  “Paige?”

  “You are a spineless prick.” Her voice was a low growl, unrecognizable. “Never contact me again. This is the last time you will hear my voice.”

  The phone clicked off.

  Josh stared at the phone in his hand, his mind and body quiet as this turn of events continued to wash over him and sink in. He didn’t know what to do from here. What the fuck happened? Where is she?

  A million questions sprang to life in his head and he felt like he was drowning. He took a deep breath then dialed the number to Gary’s phone. He had to know something, wherever they were on this island.

  Gary’s phone rang a few times before he picked up. His voice lacked the terrifying edge he’d experienced with Paige but didn’t sound very pleased to hear from him.

  “Please tell me what’s going on. Why aren’t you guys on set?”

  There was a pause. Gary laughed quietly. “Are you serious?”

  “I just called Paige and she told me to never contact her again. Along with a few other not-so-nice things. Tell me what the fuck is going on.”

  “We’re on the mainland, buddy.”

  Josh’s world stopped spinning. Things went dim and then extremely bright before his eyes, and there was a whoosh of cold around him. He could barely find his voice. “You…you mean…you’re not on the island?”

  Gary sighed. “No, we’re on our way to New York and never coming back.” In the background, the muffled voice of an airline announcement. “Not like we’d exactly had a choice. Where were you last night? I was looking everywhere for you.”

  “I was in the meeting.”

  “Convenient.”

  Josh furrowed a brow, brain struggling to connect the news with events. Bridgette’s unnatural good mood wafted into the picture and sparks flew. She was behind this. Somehow.

  “I was in meetings until almost ten,” he said. “Mandatory with the big wigs, couldn’t get out of it.”

  “You didn’t know we were gone?”

  “I had no idea. Gary…I’m shocked. I don’t know what to say. I don’t…why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t Paige say something?”

  “What are you talking about?” Josh heard something in the background of the call, a female’s voice. Gary covered up the phone as he spoke to the other person then his voice reappeared. “Josh, we were kicked out. Like, all-our-things-in-the-hallway type kicked out. With a van to the airport waiting for us.”

  Josh’s stomach wrenched, and he leaned against the wall for support. It was Bridgette… She’d done this. His mind spun; all he could think of was Paige, how angry she was with him, how he’d do anything to start schlepping away the shit.

  “I had no idea,” he whispered. “Holy hell. Please…please tell Paige I had no idea about any of this.” His throat
tightened, the emotional reaction of her absence unfurling in his core, like a surprise attack. He’d felt it before he even knew she was gone, a detail that both unnerved and placated him.

  “Yeah, I’ll tell her…” He trailed off, his tone saying more than his words. But she’ll never listen.

  Gary covered up the phone again, addressing whoever it was in the background, probably Paige. He overheard a terse command. “Get off the phone”.

  “Can I talk to her?” Tears stung his eyes, and he looked toward the ceiling, willing them to dry. Emotions clawed at his ribcage, and he could see it all from above, observing the internal process with wonderment. Who the hell are you these days, Josh?

  “Uh…” There was a pause, a scuffle with the phone, and then the other person said, “Fuck him.”

  “That’s a negative, buddy,” Gary said.

  “Please tell her I had no idea. Please tell her I had nothing to do with this. Please. This is really, really important to me.” His voice broke as he spoke.

  “Are you okay?”

  “No. I’m not.” He attempted to swallow the lump in his throat, but the tears threatened to spill anyway. “I’m sorry for whatever happened last night. I had nothing to do with it, and I’m going to figure this out right now.”

  “Josh…it doesn’t matter. Really. It’s done and over with. We’re out of IBC and moving on. So I appreciate the call, but…don’t put yourself out.”

  “It matters to me. Tell Paige she can avoid me all she wants, but she’ll know the whole story whether she likes it or not.”

  Josh hung up the phone, heart frenetic in his chest. So what the fuck now? The rug had been pulled out in a major way. Not just because Paige was gone. It was more than that. Her leaving had revealed a doorway he’d never noticed was there. Maybe it had always been there, and now he was peering out of it, considering taking a first step.

  He walked the length of the newsroom several times before his head cleared enough to avoid a breakdown. The film of tears over his eyes had disappeared, at least, and he was no longer in danger of fainting. His belly, however, roared with anger and helplessness.