Noah pulled his cell from his pocket and called his Realtor.
This was just the first step in getting her back. For good.
* * *
Callie went right to work on her computer trying to find another job. At this point, she knew she couldn’t be picky.
Noah had dropped her off that morning and here it was near dinnertime and he still hadn’t brought her stuff. If he thought she’d be coming back, he was a total moron.
She’d cried in the shower until the water ran cold, then pulled on a blousy, sheer yellow top over a white tank and denim shorts. At least she could look cheerful even if she wasn’t feeling it.
Callie had been on her laptop the past few hours because searching for work was productive and at least keeping her mind focused on something other than the fact that another fantasy, another dream had just been taken away by fate.
Callie refused to believe coming to L.A. was a mistake. She did love the town, and after going home, she knew for sure that being in the city suited her.
There were several tutoring jobs that she could start immediately and that would be good money until she could figure out what else she needed to do. She wasn’t giving up on acting. Even though Noah had lied to her, Callie firmly believed what Max had told her about Anthony looking at her twice and she knew a makeup artist could work with her face.
She refused to let fate take control of her life. She’d let herself grow dependent on Noah by living with him, falling in love with him and focusing more on him than on her questionable career. And now she had to refocus on her original goal—acting.
But since she’d quit her job, she needed immediate funds that would keep a roof over her head, not to mention pay for the expense of the microdermabrasion. Perhaps she could take out a loan.
Someone knocked on her door and Callie froze. If that was Noah, he could just drop the stuff off and be on his way.
“I need to talk to you, Callie.”
She closed her eyes and sighed. Might as well get this over with because her neighbors didn’t deserve the bellowing.
Crossing the room, she jerked open the door. “What?”
His eyes raked over her body and she refused to allow the tingle to creep through and spear her heart anymore.
“Where’s my stuff?” she asked, noting he held nothing and there was no luggage on the stoop.
“I want to take you somewhere,” he told her.
She folded her arms over her chest, as if that would keep more hurt from seeping in. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”
“Just one hour, Callie. That’s all I’m asking for, and at the end of that hour if you don’t want to see me again, I’ll walk away.”
It was so tempting to slam the door in his face, but she couldn’t do it. As much as she hated liars and deceivers, she wanted to know what he had in store for her.
“One hour,” she told him. “No more.”
His shoulders relaxed as he blew out a breath. “Thank you.”
She grabbed her keys and her purse by the door and locked it behind her. By the time she was seated in his car, she wondered if she’d made a mistake. Now that she was in his presence, would she crumble and believe every word he said? She didn’t want to be that woman who believed liars and found excuses to take them back.
“You look beautiful,” he told her as he pulled out of her apartment complex.
“Don’t. I don’t need the pretty words.”
“That time we went to celebrate your role, and you were standing there holding those yellow tickets, I thought of you as the color yellow,” he went on as if she hadn’t said anything. “I know it sounds stupid, but you’re always so vibrant, so alive, and that smile you had on your face as you held that insane amount of tickets, I just thought if Callie were any color, it would be yellow.”
She glanced down to her yellow top and closed her eyes. “What do you want from me, Noah?”
“A fresh start?”
Callie glanced across the spacious SUV and stared at him. “What?”