Endeavor: A Driven World Novel (The Driven World)

by S. E. Rose

  The hostess sees me and says hello. She’s American, but the sushi chef is not, and when we are seated at the sushi bar, he comes over to me.

  And that’s when I go full-on Japanese. I greet him and place my off-the-menu order in fluent Japanese before turning to a very shocked Grady.

  “Do you know what you want?”

  “I…uh…I like tuna,” he manages.

  I laugh. “I’ll order for you. I know just the thing.” I rattle off some options to the chef, and he goes about making our rolls.

  “You speak Japanese,” Grady states as he stares at me.

  I shrug. “A little.”

  “Uh, that sounded more like a lot.”

  “I may have spent a semester studying in Tokyo.”

  “You what?”

  “Yeah, in undergrad, I studied in Tokyo. I got pretty good at Japanese, but I’m not nearly as good as I used to be. I come here sometimes to practice.”

  “Wow. Well, that’s really impressive.”

  “Do you speak any other languages?” I ask him.

  He shakes his head. “I know a little Spanish. I try to learn a few phrases when we travel, but, no, I can’t do what you just did in any language but English.”

  “You should try learning another language. It’d be a great way to connect with your fans in other countries.”

  He places a napkin on his lap and looks back at me. “You are really unexpected, Emma.”

  “I’ve been called worse.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “I guess you’ll have to get to know me better before you judge me,” I say to him as the chef brings us an appetizer.

  I pull out my chopsticks that I keep in my purse. I don’t do the cheap wooden ones.

  He nearly chokes on his drink. “You brought your own chopsticks?”

  “Always,” I say with my hand to my chest, feigning shock. I wink as I pick up a gyoza and pop it in my mouth. I’m fully aware Grady is watching me, so I slowly pull the chopsticks out and then lick the end of one. I notice he squirms in his seat, and I may take a little, OK, a lot of pride in my abilities with the chopstick and my abilities to make a grown man squirm.

  “Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” I add with a smirk as I grab my water.

  With that he starts laughing, really laughing and I grin as I scoot the plate toward him. “Try it, they’re really good.”

  He takes his wooden chopsticks and digs into the appetizer.

  I’m surprised how easily our conversation begins to flow from there. He asks me about my time in Japan and I tell him about my adventures there. I ask him if he’s been there and he says no. He talks about visiting Beijing, China, and Phuket, Thailand, which are the only two places he’s been in Asia. We fall into a debate about the best places to visit, and by the end of the meal, I’m actually surprised that I like him, like really like him.

  “Come on, let’s go for a drive,” he says after we finish.

  I look down at my phone. “I…it’s sort of late and I hate to be a party pooper, but I do need to get some studying done.”

  “Just for an hour. I want to show you something.”

  He drives for about twenty minutes and stops at a park. “Come on,” he says, grabbing my hand.

  “But it’s dark…” I reply, stopping in my tracks as I get out of the car.

  He turns his phone’s light on and puts a hand on my back. “Live a little.”

  “Uh, I like living, that’s sort of the concern.”

  “Please,” he asks with a puppy dog face.

  I pull my keys out of my purse and place one in between each finger.

  “Really?” he asks.

  I shrug. “At least I’ll go out with a fight.”

  He laughs and I follow him. He goes around the entrance and helps me up and over a short wall.

  “We’re breaking and entering, aren’t we?” I ask as I brush some dirt off my pants.

  “Come on.” He takes my hand in his and gives it a tug. I sigh and follow him, letting him keep my hand tucked in his.

  After twenty minutes of walking up a trail, I stop.

  “How much farther?”

  He stops and stares down at me. “I know you need to study, but do you trust me?”

  I cock my head to one side and study him for a long moment. “Fuck it. Yeah, I guess I do.”

  He laughs. “OK,” he says slowly, “that doesn’t sound too convincing, but I’ll take it since you met the asshole Grady first.”

  He offers me his hand again and I slowly accept it. We don’t say another word to each other as we climb up the hill. I’m glad I wore comfy shoes tonight. It takes us a while. But as the cityscape of Los Angeles comes into view, I know why he made me come up here.

  “Oh wow,” I murmur as I look out on the city where I now live. I haven’t explored much since I arrived in August. I just didn’t have time. I’ve gone to a few places, Santa Monica Pier, Griffith Observatory, the Tar Pits, and Disneyland, but that’s it. Most weekends I spend studying, and I try to get home for the holiday breaks.

  I don’t say another word as I stand perfectly still and survey the city. It’s a cool and clear night and the city lights look amazing. I wrap my arms around myself to fight the chill in the air, but all too soon, I’m engulfed by warmth as Grady comes to stand behind me, wrapping his long arms around my shoulders.

  “I told you it would be worth it,” he whispers in my ear. “Welcome to my Los Angeles.”

  “It’s beautiful,” I say.

  We don’t speak for a few moments as we both take in the view. I turn to him. “Take a photo of me?”

  I hand him my phone and he snaps a stellar photo of me with Los Angeles in the background.

  “Wow, photo evidence of you breaking the rules,” he says with a grin.

  I roll my eyes, but before I can take my phone back, he pulls me against him and takes a selfie of us.

  “Now, I’m guilty too,” he adds with a wink as he hands me back my phone.

  I laugh. A group of people approaches from the trail, breaking the magical spell of the moment.

  “I should really get back.”

  “Come on, Cinderella,” he says as he releases me and grabs my hand again. I’m beginning to like the feel of that.

  We don’t say much as I follow him back to his car.

  “Here, you choose the music,” he says, letting me play with the screen in his car. I buckle up and begin to scroll until I find the perfect song.

  I turn up the volume to “Beautiful Day” by U2 and roll down the window. Grady follows my lead and adds to it by opening the sunroof.

  We jam out to the song, messing up the lyrics and belting the chorus. The time seems to go quickly, and before I know it, Grady is pulling up to my apartment building. He manages to find a parking spot on my block.

  “I’ll walk you up, just to be safe,” he states as he turns off the car.

  I accept his hand again as we walk to my apartment. He insists on getting me to my door and I don’t say no.

  “Thanks for a wonderful evening,” I say to him as I stand in the hallway outside my apartment.

  “Thanks for coming out.” He pauses. “I wasn’t sure you would.”

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Shoot.”

  “Why the charades?”

  “The charades?” He frowns.

  “Yesterday, when we met, you were a total prick.” He winces. “But, you’re not. So why the act?”

  He leans against the wall and looks at me. “I’ll tell you what. You go out again with me and maybe I’ll tell you why.”

  I roll my eyes. “Seriously? You’re going to hold the answer for ransom?”

  He smirks. “Possibly.”

  I don’t answer him right away, instead, I pull out my key and open my door. “Thanks again for a great night.” I glance over at him. If he thought he was getting a goodnight kiss, he’s sorely mistaken. I never kiss on the first date.

  He look
s like he wants to make a move, but he just nods at me and pushes off the wall. “I’ll text you,” he says with a smile.

  “Night, Grady.”

  “Night, Cinderella.” And with that, he walks back down the hall.

  I shut my door and slide down it, letting my purse fall to the ground. I have no idea what just happened, but I’m pretty sure I’m going out again with Grady Daniels.

  Chapter Eleven

  Grady

  I get in my car and drive back to my place. It’s not anything massive, just a little Spanish-style villa in Ocean Park, a few blocks from the beach. My mom wanted to buy me a place in Malibu, but I wanted my own house, one that I paid for myself. So, when we had our first platinum album, I used the money to buy this house. It’s small, three bedrooms, two bathrooms, and almost no back yard, but it’s mine and I love it. It does have a little driveway with a small garage, which I love because I can secretly tinker with my car. Even my mom doesn’t know I still do that. Everyone thinks that when I left the racing world, I left cars behind forever. But how do you leave part of your soul behind? You can’t.

  I pull up to my house, noticing my freshly manicured small yard. Muffin, my neighbors’ dog is barking excitedly and running along the fence to greet me. It’s a love-hate relationship that we have. My neighbors are older and have no kids, except Muffin the mini mutt who can be annoying to no end. Yet, somehow, she ended up loving me and weaseling me into loving her. She’s my pseudo-pet. I occasionally walk her and help her owners, Barb and Wayne Johnson, with cleaning up after her and bathing her. She’s a good dog; she just barks a ton.

  “Hey, Muffin,” I call out and poke my hand through the fence to pet her. She whines, so I open the gate between our properties and pick her up. She licks my face and barks excitedly.

  “That you, Grady?” Barb’s voice calls out from their veranda.

  “Yep, it’s me.” Muffin snuggles up in my arms and I pet her back. “You’re up late, everything alright?”

  “Yep. Just couldn’t sleep, so Muffin and I came back here to enjoy the night.”

  “It’s a nice one. I think I’ll do the same.”

  “You have a good evening, then, my dear,” she says from the shadows where I presume she sits in her oversized porch chair with giant flower-covered cushions.

  “You too,” I reply as I set Muffin down. I hear Barb call to her as I close the gate and head inside.

  I decide to grab a beer and sit on my front porch. Sometimes, when the wind is just right and it’s a quiet night, I can hear the ocean, but not tonight. I hear occasional cars honking and dogs barking. I have a ton of unread messages on my phone, but I just want a moment to myself.

  I lean back and close my eyes. Emma is the first image to pop into my mind. The look on her face tonight when she saw the city, all lit up and sparkling before her. She looked like a child on Christmas Day. I don’t know why I let my guard down with her. I groan. What the fuck am I doing? I can’t have a girlfriend, especially right now, there’s too much shit going on.

  My phone buzzes and it’s like the universe is calling my motherfucking bluff.

  Emma: Thanks for tonight. I had a really good time.

  I stare at her message. I contemplate saying some asshole comment like, I knew you would. But my fingers start tapping, and before my brain can catch up, I hit send.

  Me: Me too. Want to explore another cool LA landmark with me?

  Emma: LOL. Maybe.

  Me: Maybe?

  Emma: If you’re lucky.

  I laugh at that remark. She’s trying to be a smartass, but she doesn’t know that I’m the king of smartasses.

  Me: Oh, I’m lucky all right.

  Emma: (eye-rolling emoji)

  Me: (sticking-out-tongue emoji)

  Emma: I’ll see if my calendar is free later this week. Have your girl call mine.

  I laugh again.

  Me: Will do. Wait. Does Cinderella have a secretary?

  Emma: She’ll just steal her ugly stepsister’s. Oh, wait, is yours available? I should have asked first.

  Me: Touché. I’ll be in touch.

  Emma: Night.

  Me: Study hard.

  Emma: Always do.

  Me: I do other things hard.

  Emma: Goodnight, playboy.

  Me: Night. (winking emoji)

  I put down my phone and find myself grinning. I’m an idiot.

  I walk back into my house and get ready for bed. As I’m pulling back my sheets, my phone buzzes again with an email.

  I see who it’s from and I open it.

  Mr. Daniels,

  There is some additional information that you had requested. I was able to locate some of it. Attached is what I found.

  Sincerely,

  Derek Bowman

  Private Investigator

  I flop onto my bed and open the attachment. I haven’t dealt with the information from his last email yet. I frown when I reach the guy’s records. He had it rough. I toss my phone down on the bed. I don’t want to feel bad right now. I was on such a high after being with Emma tonight and now this bullshit. Rhett and Max were probably right. I should have never gone down this road. I should have never tried to find him.

  Chapter Twelve

  Emma

  I’m still on my high from my awesome date when I decide to send Andy and Blythe emails the next day asking if they have time to grab lunch this week or next.

  I have zero expectation that they will, but I’m still hopeful. Getting either one involved in my project could be life-changing for my documentary.

  I grab coffee and head to campus early. I find a quiet corner and start working on my documentary notes. I send a few more emails to the contacts I already have lined up for interviews. If I can start filming in a few weeks, then I can stay on track as I hoped.

  I’m typing away when my phone buzzes. I look down and grin.

  Kate: You go on a date with a musician and you don’t text me afterward?

  Me: What?

  Kate: Dude (website link inserted)

  I click on it and groan. There are photos of us at the sushi bar from last night with captions about Grady Daniels and a mystery girl spotted out in LA.

  Me: FML

  Kate: Sooo??

  Me: It went well. I may have pegged him as an asshole at first, but Grady is…well, surprisingly cool and real.

  Kate: So, how’s his (eggplant emoji)?

  Me: Kate, seriously?

  Kate: (shrugging emoji)

  Me: A lady doesn’t kiss and tell.

  Kate: Well, at least we don’t have to worry about that. So, slut, give me the deets!

  Me: (middle-finger emoji)

  Kate: Fine, but seriously, when you see the (eggplant emoji), I better hear about it.

  Me: Gotta go, class.

  Kate: Likely excuse…

  I put my phone away and head to my class. I’m not as prepared as I should be because last night, I lay in bed daydreaming about Grady instead of finishing my reading. Maybe dating a guy while I’m studying for my master’s is a bad idea.

  I find my seat in my class. It’s funny how most college and graduate-level classes don’t have assigned seating, yet people tend to naturally pick a seat and stay there. I always like to sit in the second row on the far side of the room. I don’t want to appear too eager, but I also don’t want to be in the back, looking like I don’t care. Yeah, I probably way overthink this, but it’s just my thing.

  The professor walks in and class starts. I half-listen to the lecture, taking notes periodically. But my mind keeps wandering back to Grady. Good God, get a grip, Baldwin. You’re acting like some lovesick teenager with a major crush.

  Class ends and I check my phone, surprised when I see responses from both Blythe and Andy that they can meet for lunch on Thursday. I want to squeal with excitement.

  Me: OMG!! I have a lunch meeting with Andy and Blythe!!!

  Kate: Shit! Well, that’s exciting. Congrats!

 
Me: Oh God, I think I’m going to be sick.

  Kate: You got this. You’ve only been working on this documentary since undergrad.

  Me: But this is like next level. I’m an amateur compared to them.

  Kate: Breathe. You can do this. I mean, for Christ's sake, you’ve had dinner with a president.

  Me: I’ve had dinner with your family.

  Kate: Yeah, exactly.

  Me: He’s your DAD!

  Kate: Yeah, exactly.

  Me: Whatever. This is serious!

  Kate: Don’t make me fly over there to knock some sense into you!

  Me: Could you? I mean, fly here for my meeting. You could pretend to be my PA.

  Kate: No and no. You are doing this on your own because you are a strong, independent woman.

  Me: I am?

  Kate: YOU ARE!!

  Me: OK, I got this.

  Kate: Fuck yeah, you do.

  Me: Thanks for the pep talk.

  Kate: (thumbs-up emoji)

  I walk to my favorite part of the library. There’s just something about libraries, the way they smell, the quiet atmosphere. I need to think, and I need to get some serious work done.

  I look down when my phone buzzes and see it’s a call from Grady.

  Frowning, I pick it up because I find it odd that Grady is calling. He hasn’t called me yet. And it’s the middle of the day.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey. I…uh…I wanted to call because apparently we were photographed last night.”

  “I know.”

  “Oh?”

  “Kate, my friend, she saw the photos and told me.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry about that. I should have warned you that the paps sometimes do that. I just didn’t want you finding out and getting upset about it.”

  “Why would I be upset? I mean, you are famous. You come from a famous family. I’ll be honest, I didn’t really think about that. But no, I’m not upset,” I say, because it’s the truth. I’m not upset. I mean, it’s not his fault.

  I hear him sigh in relief, and I laugh. “You were really worried about this, huh?”