“Jessica,” I say. Her head flies to me, but when I see the anger in her eyes, I stop.
“Hopefully, this stunt gets me a one-way ticket home,” she says and then looks at Cassie. “But if you think that you scare me, you have another thing coming.” She turns and walks out of the room. Yamina looks at me and then at Cassie, who just rolls her eyes.
“I believe this,” Cassie starts to say, putting her hands out, “means she’s going home, right?”
“Um,” Yolanda says, and then looks at Yamina. “We will have to let Ryan know.”
“No,” I say loudly. Yamina and Yolanda both look at me. “If you can give us a minute,” I say, and they both nod and walk out, closing the door. I wait a couple of minutes and look at her. “What the fuck was that?”
She crosses her arms over her chest and rolls her eyes. “Seriously, you are not going to say that you weren’t annoyed with her.”
“Cassie, she didn’t do anything. She has been on her best behavior since we left. She hasn’t tried to fuck with me; she hasn’t tried to smear me or ask me anything that she shouldn’t have. We had a conversation this morning, calling a truce,” I tell her. I’m pissed as fuck she went over my head, and she was disrespectful. There is one thing I don’t do, and it’s disrespect.
“Well, how was I supposed to know?” she tells me. “You didn’t tell me anything.”
“It didn’t have anything to do with you or your job,” I tell her, putting my hands in my back pockets. “I took care of it.”
She doesn’t have a chance to answer because there is a knock on the door, and Yamina walks in. “Um, Tyler, Ryan is on the phone,” she says, holding out her phone. She looks at me, then Cassie, and then at the floor.
I grab the phone, placing it to my ear. “Hello?”
“You want to tell me why I just got a phone call from Stephanie pulling Jessica out of this tour?” he hisses. “The only reputable fucking journalist out there, and she is going.”
“There was a misunderstanding,” I say, turning and walking more into the room so no one hears the conversation. “I will go and talk to her.”
“You better do something,” Ryan says. “You know she’s been gone from LA for what, three days, maybe four, and she had two scoops that came out. Two. She beat all the other reporters by thirty minutes. Two.”
“I know,” I say, closing my eyes and grabbing the bridge of my nose.
“Take care of this,” he says, and he hangs up. I turn and hand Yamina back her phone.
“How many interviews do I have left?” I ask her, and she shakes her head.
“That was your last one,” she says, and I nod, walking out of the room. Then I turn back and go back in.
“I need her room number,” I ask them, and Yolanda tells me. I walk toward the elevator and press the button. I hate drama, I hate being involved with drama, and I hate being around it. I step into the elevator, and I’m pissed, I’m angry, and I’m livid. I’m all the fucking words. When the elevator doors open, I walk to her hotel door, and I hear her voice come through the door.
“Stephanie, I don’t think you understand what you’re asking me.” I know I’m eavesdropping, but I want to hear what she says. “I don’t care if he’s the hottest guy in the world.” I smile, a weird feeling blooming in my chest when I hear her say that. “Fine, he’s hot, but he’s also an asshole, and his assistant is worse than the wicked witch. I’m searching for a flight now. Let me know what Ryan says.”
When I don’t hear her talking anymore, I knock on the door, and I hear the handle turn and the click of the door. She stands there with her hair piled on top of her head. Her phone is still in her hand, showing her screen saver. “What do you want?” she asks. I look at her, and something almost shifts, but I don’t know what it is. “Um, hello?” she says again, and I snap out of it.
“Can I have a minute of your time?” I walk toward her, causing her to move out of the way so I can enter her room. Her room is much smaller than my suite, and her suitcase lays open on her bed with her toiletry bag on the top. Her laptop is open beside it, and I can see she was looking for flights. I turn and look at her still standing by the door with the handle in her hand. She closes the door.
“Sixty seconds, Tyler, so make it count,” she says, folding her arms over her chest.
“I think there was a little bit of a misunderstanding,” I start, and her eyes go wide.
“No, there was no misunderstanding. Your pit bull launched and attacked me. I’m done with her and her shitty comments, her shitty attitude, and her trying to strong-arm me. I don’t want you,” she says, and I look at her, seeing the little vein in her neck start to come out. “I don’t want anything to do with you. She can have you all to herself.”
“Cassie and I are strictly professional. She’s been with me since the beginning,” I tell her and watch as she rolls her eyes, “but she was totally out of line.”
“You think?” she retorts. “I’ve said it before, but it warrants repeating. She needs to be medicated.”
I laugh when she says that it’s the second time she’s mentioned that to me. “Why are you even here?” she asks me, and then continues talking. “This is just what you’ve wanted from the beginning. You’ve wanted me to be off this tour.” She throws her hands up. “Well, I admit defeat. You won; I lost. Tyler-1; Jessica-0.”
“She was out of line, and I guarantee that from here on out, I, as well as Cassie, will be on our best behavior.”
“Oh, please, you know damn freaking straight she doesn’t know what best behavior means,” she says, and I want to argue with her. “I’ll stay,” she says and then a smile comes across her face, “but if I stay, she isn’t in that fucking room when we have our interview. She doesn’t step foot in the room, not even to bring you a bottle of water or to fan you off while you talk.”
I throw my head back, having the vision in my head. “She isn’t that bad.”
“What do you say, Tyler?” she asks. “Do we have a deal, or am I headed home?”
I shake my head. “Fine,” I agree. “After all, it’s only fifteen minutes.”
“I don’t know you really well, but I’m sure you can go fifteen minutes without her,” she says, and I nod my head. “I’m holding firm on this one.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “Actually, rephrase that, I’m demanding that unless it has to do with the schedule or her job, I don’t want her to speak to me. Not one single word.”
“Fine. With you, she won’t be there, and I’ll make sure she doesn’t have anything to do with you,” I agree, “so you’ll stay.”
“Listen, Tyler, I’m going to be really honest with you right now. We both know that we don’t like each other, and we both know that we didn’t want to be here, but we sort of made a truce. So I have to remind you that,” she says, “I’m making an effort here, even if it doesn’t feel like it.” I don’t say anything; I just nod my head. “Off the record,” she says, and I look at her in confusion. “I want to tell you something off the record, and I won’t do it unless you say you agree.”