She is quiet for a moment. “Her people moved the press thing up by an hour. It’s starting around now.”
I swallow. “Okay. Thanks.”
I know the venue of the press conference, and I start to request another ride to take me there, then when I reach the sidewalk and the ride isn’t there yet, I cancel it and break into a run.
I need to speak to her.
Outside the hotel, there’s the usual gaggle of paparazzi. Inside the lobby, signs point out the direction of the conference room. I follow the signs, stopping just outside the double doors that lead inside.
I can hear a voice speaking into a microphone, the clicks of cameras, the rustle of tens of bodies hoping to be the first to break an interesting titbit, to take the picture all the celeb magazines will want to buy.
And then Liz. There’s her voice through the speakers. Even through the doors, though I can’t hear what she’s saying, I can hear her, and I can feel the preview of my loss of her, and it’s something I cannot bear.
“You going to stand there, mate, or are you going to go in?”
A surly man with a camera and press credentials is glaring at me, and shaking his head, he pushes the door open.
Sound envelopes me, the cacophony of questions. At the far side of the room. Liz is seated at a table, her manager and agent beside her, her face serene as she watches the clamor of cameras, notes and recorders.
I love you.
“Are you returning to L.A.?”
“Not for now.” She smiles at the reporter. “I think I deserve a few weeks of rest.”
Noise.
“You’re going on a vacation?”
“Yes.”
Noise.
“Will you be returning to film your movie with Devlin Coates?”
“Not right now. No.”
Noise.
It’s news to me that she’s not returning to the film. She’s leaving everything behind, and for a moment, all I feel is pride, for her. Because she’s doing this for herself.
Her manager’s face is stony, but I barely notice. I can hardly take my eyes off Liz. My legs move me toward the front of the room.
“Are you leaving the production of the Break of Day because you have a bad working relationship with Aidan Court, the director?”
Liz smiles and shakes her head. “Working with Aidan has been the high point of doing this play. I have a great relationship with him, and he’s a very talented director, and a professional.”
“Yet, you’re leaving.”
“As I said, I need some time to rest.”
“Is there anything that would make you stay?”
She turns in my direction, looking as shocked as I am by the sound of my voice on the speakers. I wasn’t even conscious of grabbing the mic from
a passing intern. “Is there anything that would make you stay?” I ask again.
Liz stares at me, wordless. Around us, the room is silent, but I barely notice. She’s the only one I see. “I don’t…”