Page 128 of Full Tilt
“It’s done,” I said. It had taken two hours per day for four days, but it was done.
“It’s the best thing you’ve ever made,” Tania murmured.
“Because loving her is the best thing I’ve ever done.”
We shut everything down, cleaned up the worktable and headed for the sliding front doors. I stopped and turned, taking in the space that had felt like a second home to me.
“Did you forget something?” she asked.
“No. I’m just…”
Saying goodbye.
“…remembering.” I looked over at my assistant. Tears were in her eyes. “You’ll take care of the last piece?”
She nodded. “It’s been an honor and a privilege working with you.”
“Likewise, Tania. I only wish I could stick around to see your brilliant career.”
“So do I, dammit,” she said fiercely, and threw her arms around my neck. “Though I don’t know about brilliant…”
I did. She had applied to the Chihuly Studio in Seattle. I knew Dale’s rep had received my letter of recommendation, and I knew they were “extremely enthusiastic” about Tania’s work. I knew they’d be notifying her shortly to schedule a round of interviews and studio time.
I could’ve told her what to expect, but some moments—like her opening that letter from the Studio—were meant to be lived in as they happened.
I knew that too.
CHAPTER
FORTY-FOUR
One morning, Jonah was slow to get out of bed, and then only made it to the kitchen before stopping to rest his hands on the counter, catching his breath. He spent most of the day in the chair in the living room.
The speed of his decline terrified me. Seconds were slipping by, taking our moments with them. I fought to hold onto them. To make something of them that was more than fear and grief and agony. Losing Jonah was agony, and if I slowed down to think about it, even for a moment, it would drown me.
I had to keep moving. Stay ahead of it, for Jonah’s sake and for mine. I made phone calls, I prepped his medications and made our meals. I took his showers with him, helped him wash and shampoo, then helped him out. I made a flirtatious game of it, but aside from a few warm kisses, Jonah’s body was shutting down.
I’d quit my job at Caesar’s weeks ago and was living off the last of the Rapid Confession money. Those funds were dwindling too, but there was zero chance of me leaving Jonah now. If I lost my apartment, so be it. For now, I was living at Jonah’s place and later—the nebulouslater—I had plenty of friends in Las Vegas I could crash with until I got back on my feet.
As if the universe were testing me, Jimmy Ray called oneafternoon and offered me everything I could possibly want: a new contract with RC, an additional solo contract to write and produce my own album, and an advance that would’ve left me set for years.
“The label is desperate for you,” he said. His voice was hearty, but I could practically smell his desperation through the phone. “Elle is a good girl, but she’s not you. Have you been reading the press? The fans want you back.Wewant you back.”
I wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness. Jimmy schmoozing like a used car dealer or a carny at a fair. What he offered was so shallow and plastic compared to what I had with Jonah. For all the pain that was coming—and God help me, it was going to be an avalanche—it was worth it. Jonah was worth everything.
“No thanks, Jimmy.”
I heard a gasp and a stutter. “Nothanks?You’re going to turn it all down for what? The limo driver?”
“Yes.”
“Listen, kitten, this is my Hail Mary pass. I don’t want to rub salt in a wound, but Lola says he’s dying. And you’re going to choose him over everything we’re offering?”
“No,” I said. “I’m not choosing anything. There is no choice. There never was.”
Silence never sounded so good.
I hung up.
