Pants on Fire (12 page)

He buried his face in his hands. “What do I do?”

“Keep calling her, or send her a text. Just explain what happened. If she loves you, she’ll understand. And if she could forgive you for lying about your identity then she loves you.”

Two weeks had never felt so long. Every morning Megan had woken up in a different hotel eaten a rushed breakfast and then sat through two sing-alongs, two question and answer sessions, and two book signings with barely half an hour for lunch in between. Then it was back to the hotel for a shower, a meal eaten on the run, and a mad rush to the airport. They’d check in late at the next hotel, collapse into bed, and start the whole thing over again.

Megan stepped out of the shower at the last hotel and grabbed one of the scratchy towels. She’d gotten used to old towels, bad food, and non-existent room service. When they had checked into a cheap motel at their second stop Megan had stared in shock.

“Hey, we can’t stay at a Mather’s hotel every night, Megan. Think of last night as a thank-you from your producers because from here on out we travel light, fast, and cheap.”

Before bed that night she’d checked her phone and was surprised by fourteen missed calls. One from her mother, the rest from Tyler. Bernie’s warning had been fresh in her mind and she’d been too tired to deal with apologies or excuses or any of the confusing emotions in her own head so she’d turned the phone off and went to bed.

When he sent her a text she’d actually taken the time to read it.
Megan, I’m sorry I missed you at check out. Can’t get away from the office right now. Call me.

Bernie had shoved a sandwich in her hand, patted her shoulder, and said, “Get over him. Those hotels will always be more important than you.”

Since every message, text or voicemail that he left over the rest of the day mentioned the stacks of paperwork and days of meetings she knew Bernie was right.

Now, with the end of her tour in sight, Megan was glad she hadn’t made time for the drama. That, on top of everything else, would have drained her completely.

Her cellphone was ringing and she almost ignored it completely since she was tired of looking at it, seeing Tyler’s number, and having to fight the urge to answer it. She picked it up anyways and saw Alicia’s name on the call display.

“Hello!” she said and flopped on the bed. She was actually going to be sleeping here for a second night since they had no signing the next day.

“Hello superstar. How did your signings go?”

“I’m so glad we don’t film in front of a live audience. If I have to deal with another screaming kid I’m going to do something my producers would never forgive.” She sighed. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this tired.”

“So it was a big turn-out then?”

“Bigger than we expected. We almost ran out of cookbooks at the second location so Bernie called ahead to every other location and added another stack of books to the list of requested on-hand items. It was a good thing too because we would have run out a few times without them.”

“I’ll bet the producers are thrilled.”

“Bernie deals with them but she says my contract is secure for at least another season. And if I want to do a craft book they’ll support it.”

“Wow, a second book. Megan, that’s wonderful.”

“I guess so. I’m just so tired of hotels and bad food that I don’t even want to think about going on tour again. Enough about tours, I don’t even want to talk about it. Did you go out west?”

“I did. Didn’t you get to see the ocean while on tour?”

“I was in California yesterday. I didn’t have any time for sightseeing. Was it better than my imagination?”

“Probably. It was better than my imagination. And you should see my tan!”

“I don’t care about your tan, I want to see what you paint!”

Alicia laughed. “That will take some time yet. Oh, but I got some amazing shots to work from. Anyway, I just wanted to check in before you got busy with shooting more segments of the show and such. Oh, and when I got home from the coast I had a strange message on my machine.”

“Oh?” Megan sat up a little straighter. “What kind of message?”

“First let me apologize that I didn’t get it to you sooner. Your friend at the hotel, he called me and left his number, said I should pass it on to you. Did you want it?”

“No, that’s all right.”

“Are you sure? I thought the two of you were patching things up? You should have heard the message, I thought he was going to start crying to the machine.”

Megan couldn’t imagine Tyler ever crying over anything but she took a deep breath and filled Alicia in on her reunion with Tyler.

“So you’re telling me that the owner of Mathers Hotels and Resorts saw my paintings and liked them enough to put in his hotels. He liked them so much that he flew me out to California. And he liked them so much that he requested a special painting of his own of … oh wait. Oh, now that makes a lot of sense. Wow.”

“Wow what? Alicia, what?”

“Megan, I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you. I’m sorry, things just clicked into place in my mind and if you want my advice, call the man back.”

“Alicia, I’m tired.” She flopped back onto the bed. “I’m not calling anyone tonight, not even my mother. Maybe when I get home I’ll deal with this.”

“Don’t wait too long,” Alicia said. “Congratulations, Megan. I’m glad your tour was a success.”

“Thanks Alicia. We’ll drink to our successes next time I’m in Kingsbridge.”

“It’s a deal.”

***

Megan sat in the airport reading a magazine while Bernie dealt with the ticket people. She glanced at her watch again and put the magazine back in her carryon. Bernie had been gone ten minutes and still wasn’t back with the tickets. She glanced around but didn’t see Bernie. She did notice a man with a very expensive looking camera hovering around the glass doors to the parking garage. Turning she noticed another expensively equipped photographer at the main doors speaking with one of the security guards. She went to the ticket counter and easily spotted Bernie in a heated argument with the ticket agent.

“Bernie, is everything all right?”

“No, everything is not all right!” Bernie shouted. “These incompetent morons lost your booking.”

Megan’s eyes went wide. “What do you mean? How do we get home?”

“Not we, Megan. You. They lost your booking, not mine. So unless they’ll let you sit on my lap the whole way back we’ve got a serious problem.”

“Bernie, we can deal with this. Why don’t you let me talk to the airport people since it’s about my ticket?”

“It’s my job to deal with these things, Megan. It’s what I get paid for.”

“I’m not really doing you any favours, Bernie. I think I spotted a few
professional
photographers. You might want to make sure that’s not something we’ll have to deal with.”

Bernie frowned and nodded. “Fine, I’ll go make sure the press isn’t here for us. Don’t you dare pay for an extra ticket, understand?”

Megan nodded and waited until Bernie was out of earshot before turning to the ticket agent. “I’m sorry about her, but her attitude suits her job.”

“I’m sure it does,” the young woman said. “That doesn’t change the fact that we received notification that Megan McCollum no longer required her ticket on this flight. They had the personal information of the person who booked the flight in your name.”

Megan nodded. “This was a business trip. The tickets were all booked by someone at the studio. I don’t understand why they would have cancelled without notifying me.”

She shrugged. “I’m sorry, I can’t answer that. If you’d like to call them you can use one of the payphones. I have other customers to check in.”

“Megan!” Bernie came bustling up. “I told you he was nothing but trouble. That attention is here for you and they’ve gotten wind of your little fling. And my plane leaves in half an hour! How am I supposed to deal with this?”

Megan slowly dragged her bag over to one of the benches where she sank to the seat and stared, bewildered and unseeing, at the air in front of her nose.
I’m stranded in an airport with the press and they’ve gotten wind of a good story. I’m doomed. My career is over. I’m going to kill someone. I’m going to kill HIM. Oh, why did I ever agree to his stupid idea? I should have known someone would look at those tapes and realize he’d been in my hotel room all night. Damn it. DAMN IT!

“Megan McCollum, please come to the customer service desk. Megan McCollum to customer service.”

Bernie glanced up in the general direction of the hidden speakers and frowned. “Maybe that’s good news. Let’s move.”

They weren’t the only ones moving. Several people with notepads or cameras were also making their way to customer service. Bernie hustled Megan a little faster. A man with a supervisor tag on his uniform vest was waiting at customer service.

“I’m Megan,” she said, a little breathlessly.

“If you would come with me to one of our conference rooms, please, I believe we can sort out this misunderstanding.” He smiled thinly at Bernie. “I’m afraid my supervisor requested Megan only. I assure you this has nothing to do with anything illegal.”

“You go,” Bernie growled. “I’ll deal with the jackals.”

“Ms. Stein,” one of the flight agents said. “Your plane is boarding soon. You have to get through the gate.”

“Go,” Megan said. “I’ll be fine.”

Megan was led down a long hallway behind the customer service counter to a small room that looked like it was probably used for detaining drug suspects. The man at the far end of the room turned as she came in and smiled at her.

Megan didn’t even hear the airport employee backing out of the room or shutting the door. She just stared at Tyler, disbelief, pain, and relief washing over her. “What are you doing here, Tyler?”

He glanced down at the roses he had in one hand and the dark green glass bottle in the other then back at her. “I’m apologizing, in person, since you wouldn’t return my phone calls.”

She sank into one of the folding chairs. “I’m tired of this Tyler. What happens after this? We live in different cities, we both work at high demand jobs, so what happens next?”

“I thought I’d fly you home and we’d see where things went from there.”

“Tyler, you don’t get it, do you? The press is waiting out there to ask me if I’m really having an affair with Tyler Mathers. They probably have proof that we spent the night together. They can get more proof if they want it. There is no more ‘see where it goes’ there is no more putting this off. What happens next?”

“Marry me.”

“What? Tyler, what about the distance? What about our jobs?”

“I’m not afraid of being Mr. Maizy Daisy, are you afraid of being Mrs. Mathers of the hotels?”