Page 68 of One Last Shot

I walk over to the wall of glass that leads from the solarium into Sasha’s room, but he doesn’t appear to be in there. I open the door and call his name to be sure, but there’s no response. So I walk through his room and down the hallway to the entryway, expecting that maybe his suitcase will be there and he’s puttering around somewhere waiting for me to get off the phone so he can say goodbye.

Nothing.

I wander into the living room and through to the sitting room, and still no sign of him. I head back through the living room to the dining room and into the kitchen. He’s nowhere to be found. There’s no indication that he’s still here.

What the hell? He left without even saying goodbye? Without telling me whether we’ll have the contract ready for Raina today? Without even leaving a note?

I go through to the solarium and find my phone where I left it on the table, and I don’t have any missed calls or texts from him, and now I’m getting angry because it’s a lot easier than admitting to myself how hurt I am. I shoot off a text to him.

Petra:You left without saying goodbye?

I respond to some emails and prep for a meeting with Morgan that’s supposed to start in twenty minutes. And when I sit down for that meeting, I still have no response from Aleksandr. I know he’s in the car on his way to the training facility, so there’s no reason he wouldn’t see the text.

Maybe he’s on a phone call and can’t respond. Be patient.

Patience has never been a specialty of mine.

* * *

“Don’t you like the burritos?” Stella asks.

I take a look at my half-eaten dinner and then give her a small smile. “I do, I’m just not very hungry.” We’d made dinner together, and I can tell she’s worried that I don’t think she did a good job. “But I’m going to save the rest of my burrito for later, because I think this is one of the best I’ve ever had.”

She beams. “I didn’t know I liked guacamole, but you’re right, it makes burritos even better.” She looks at me like I’m some sort of all-knowing food goddess.

“My best friend, Jackson, is a taco guru,” I tell her. “I’ve learned a lot about Mexican food from her.”

“What’s a guru?”

“It’s someone who’s an expert on something, someone you can learn from.”

“Are you a guru too?”

I try not to laugh at the question, which is asked so innocently. “No, I don’t think so.”

“There’s nothing you’re an expert on?”

I’m certainly no relationship guru. I think about the fact that Aleksandr still hasn’t replied to my text or returned my call after I left him a voice mail earlier this afternoon. I thought we had something, that we were building something. Here I was thinking how much I didn’t want to go to LA because I just wanted to stay here with him and Stella, and obviously that was very one-sided.

“Well, I’m kind of an expert on event planning.” My shoulder ticks up in a small shrug.

“What’s that?” she asks through the huge bite she just took of her burrito, food threatening to fall out of her mouth.

“My job is to plan big events, like parties and weddings and retreats. People hire me to organize all the details and make sure that the event is a success.”

“Is it fun?”

“Sometimes. But the point of work isn’t that it’s fun, it’s that it’s fulfilling.”

“What’s fuf-filling?”

“If something is fulfilling, it means that you’re using your talents in a way that helps other people and also makes you happy. For me, getting to plan these kinds of events makes me feel that way.”

“Are you a guru in anything else?”

I think about the show I’m about to start filming. “Well, I’m also really good at talking to people. At getting to understand their story, and when necessary, giving them advice to help them.” My friends have always come to me for advice because I don’t hold back or sugarcoat it. That may not be everyone’s preferred method of “help,” but they know that they are getting honest feedback.

“I think you’re really good at helping people,” Stella says.

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