The New Year's Wish

Copyright (c) 2013 Sophia Greene

All Rights Reserved

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronical or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for t
he use of brief quotations in book reviews.

This book is a work of fiction, any similarities or resemblances to any persons, living or dead, or to any events are entirely coincidental.

Visit Sophia Greene at www.sophia-greene.com

The French Alps

December 27

"So you're really not going to tell me if you're meeting your secret lover in Paris?"
"Nope." Kayla sent me a sideways smirk navigating the car onto the narrow driveway leading up to the ski chalet.
She had her chestnut hair in a high ponytail and a hair clip held back her bangs. Her dimples and her chocolate brown eyes sent the butterflies in my stomach into overdrive, so I turned my attention to the impressive wooden chalet nestling by the foot of a mountain and surrounded by pine trees. It had tall windows from floor to ceiling that wrapped around the corner and continued on the other side of the house, overlooking the valley. Someone, I couldn't see who, was waving at us from one of the windows. I saw a car there already and although I hated being apart from Kayla, a part of me was looking forward to let loose for a week with the boys.

I hadn't seen Kevin and Jackson since the film shoot. The last movie I did had given us the rare chance to work together again, to stay in one place at the same
time for more than one day. It had been 6 years since our first movie together and I was really looking forward to seeing them again. Tom, my childhood friend, also an actor, in London's West End, was flying in from London, and I heard a rumor that Bobby, who was otherwise busy touring North America with his rock band, was going to make an appearance too. We had rented the house for a no-women-access-guys-only-New-Years-Vacation. A whole week of skiing, beer drinking, jam sessions and pulling pranks. I couldn't wait.
"So Mr. Peterson, do you think you can manage without me for a whole week?"
She was teasing me, as she parked the rented silver Peugeot with ease in the untouched snow.
"Oh yeah, Miss Simpson, you know we only keep you around for appearance´s sake so... ouch!"
She hit me over the arm and stuck her tongue out.
"Shut up, before your delusions gets you killed!" The twinkle in her eyes and the tone of her voice was anything but serious.
With a laugh I got out and opened the trunk to get my suitcase and guitar. Her metallic blue suitcase lay next to mine. Bound for Paris. To meet with someone she wouldn't tell me about. That's the way we worked. She knew all about me, from what size briefs I wore to how I liked my coffee (black!) and I knew very little about her. I knew she could operate on 3 hours of sleep and still be effective, chatty and friendly, all of which I couldn’t! It wasn't because we didn't talk privately, we did. But she didn't talk much about her family and if I dared to enquire about any boyfriend or the like, she clammed up and told me that it was her job to know all about me and my job to look good on screen. I didn't mind her mocking me, but I wanted to know more. A quick search on Google didn't provide much information and none of her Twitter followers seemed to match the profile of either a lover or a boyfriend. I knew her limits by now, and I was careful not to overstep them for fear of her quitting her job. She was the best assistant I could ever want, always effective, happy and in the right place. But she was so much more than that and that was the real reason, I was careful not to go too far in my poking and prodding.
"Well, whoever you're meeting in Paris, I wish you a safe flight and a happy New Year."
I held out my arm for a hug and she took a step forward into my arms. I locked my arms around her; she was shivering in her open coat. I tried to warm her up.
"I'll see you in a week, have a fun holiday and don't get into too much trouble while I'm away."
She gave me a final squeeze and let go, turning to the car.
"I'll do my very best Miss Simpson!"
My words formed vapors in the freezing air and I could feel the cold starting to sting my hands and cheeks.
She closed the door and started the car, waved at me as she drove back down the narrow road, fading into a tiny silver speck on the horizon. I tolerated the cold until her car was out of sight. Who was she meeting in Paris? It must be a romantic meeting or she could just as well have met them in Geneva or back home, right? I felt the jealousy creep up on me and I began moving up to the house, shaking the thoughts right out of my head again. I was looking forward to spending a week with my best friends Kevin, Jackson, Tom and Bobby.
As soon as I opened the door, Jackson came to greet me, his chin long brown curly hair bouncing enthusiastically around his head.
"Matt my man! So good to see you again!" he gave me a quick hug and a hard slap on my left shoulder. He pointed his finger at my new blonde buzz cut.

"New movie?" he asked.
I nodded. "Who's here?"
"Me and Kevin so far but Tom just rang from Geneva so he should be here in about 3 hours. Come get some coffee." I followed Jackson through the spacious hall, past the big wooden staircase and into the kitchen. The chalet was just as impressive on the inside, all high ceilings and luxurious furniture, but somehow cozy still.

Jackson poured himself a cup of coffee and pointed to a kitchen cabinet, I found a very expensive looking mug, pulled out a chair and sat down by the long oak table
that ran the length of the kitchen. He was looking tired, drinking his coffee like a sugar addict eats chocolate.
"Kevin is working up a fire in the living room. This place is freezing so he better get it going before my feet fall off!" He directed his last sentence in the direction of where Kevin and the fireplace were having a conversation about who was boss.
I laughed. Oh how I'd missed the boys.
"You look tired, is Kayla working you hard?"
A grunt escaped my mouth. Jackson was onto me I knew.
"You know..."  I took a sip and scalded my tongue, all just to avoid answering him.
We were interrupted by the doorbell. Kevin shouted from the living room for us to get it and we put down our coffees.

10 minutes later the hall was a mess with discarded luggage,
winter boots and coats, all lying in a puddle of melted snow. We were all sitting in the two big brown leather couches by the fireplace. It was so good to have the whole day in front of me and my best friends around me. I felt the fatigue setting in. I couldn't remember when the last time was that I'd had two consecutive days off. Once Kayla had started as my PA I hadn't minded as much, especially because she took such good care of me. She was well-organized to the point where it was a little bit scary. Because she was so efficient, I had more time to rest between interviews, plane rides, shoots and the rest of all my crazy activities. She was always there with a drink, a cigarette, a deodorant, a foot rub, an open half hour to nap in and everything else I needed. She never allowed herself to relax or retire before she knew I was well-fed, well-dressed and happy. My manager Nick kept saying how hilarious it was that I'd bagged myself a new mum, but she was nothing like a mum to me.
"Let's jam!" Jackson dug out his harmonica from his pocket and everybody scrambled to their feet to find their instruments. This week was going to be amazing, how could it not when I was surrounded by these guys? I got up to retrieve my guitar from the pile in the hallway. As I opened it, my plane ticket fell out. I always put it with my guitar. I picked it up before it could get wet, to put it in my bag.
"SHIT!" I heard the living room chatter and music subside.
"What?" Jackson yelled.
"SHIT!" I repeated. "This is Kayla's ticket!" I practically ran back into the living room.
Kevin took the piece of paper from my hand.
"Yup, this is Kayla's ticket for her flight to Paris in about two hours from Geneva."
"So does she have your ticket then?" Tom asked while carefully stroking his new guitar.
"I don't know. How could this happen? She's always so organized...I've got to call her!"
I ran back to fish out my mobile from my coat pocket. I rang her number. She didn't pick up so I left her a message, then I rang her 4 more times. My pulse was racing and I was becoming more and more nervous. She was going to kill me! Whoever she was meeting in Paris, it was clear that it was important to her and somehow I'd fucked it up for her. Ironic, when she always took such good care of me!
After calling her non-stop in between the day's jamming sessions, I was persuaded to finally stop trying by Tom. Now I was standing by the window, looking at the sun disappearing behind the top of the mountain. Tom grabbed my shoulder and tried to reassure me that all was well.
"She probably just got a new ticket, and is already in Paris. She always handles everything, this is no big deal for her. You'll talk to her next week." It made sense. The things she had to deal with in her job for me, was far bigger and more complicated than a simple ticket switch. She was a big girl, more than capable of taking care of herself.
I sat down to eat with the boys. Jackson had cooked up a mean chili, the only food he could make, and soon I was back into the chat. Tom was talking about a play he was due to start next month in London’s West End and he was psyched about it.

After jamming and drinking beer that night we all crashed on our luxurious giant beds. My bedroom was the smallest but nonetheless exquisite. In the corner was a stone
fireplace and the bed´s headboard was expensive soft brown leather. There was a soft plush beige rug and posh mahogany nightstands and a dresser. I had a private balcony overlooking a white landscape with mountain tops sticking out and snow dusted spruce trees running up and down the mountainsides. I had an en suite complete with bathtub on golden lion feet and golden taps on the sink. This place was costing us a fortune to rent for a week, but it didn't matter to us anymore. I rarely splurged on anything, except guitars and other musical stuff, as I never had the time but now that I had, I indulged myself. Life was good. Of course Kayla had found this place for us, because we wouldn't know what to look for or where to look and I think she was afraid we'd book ourselves a simple little cottage, with no kitchen or bathroom, if left to our own devices. She'd be right, which was exactly why I didn't want to lose her as my assistant.
I checked my phone before stepping into the shower. It wasn't like her to not respond to me. Was she really that angry with me? I hadn't done it on purpose, she must have known that? Should I be worried or were the boys right? I decided to leave it for now and call her in the morning.

The second day of my holiday was everything I nee
ded it to be. First we went into the small town, stocking up on supplies for the fridge. When we got back, we went skiing. Whizzing down the mountainsides, feeling the wind against my body was the perfect way to unwind after a year of non-stop work.
We spent the afternoon out on the slopes. Later we all spilled into the house laughing with tiredness settling in our muscles and hunger beginning to make an appearance. Tom and I had the sandwich duty, while Jackson and Kevin worked up the fire. Jackson's animated voice, talking about something he'd experienced during a recent concert with his band, drifted into the kitchen. He was living both his dreams, as a musician and an actor. He didn't sleep much in between filming and touring, and time for a girlfriend was out of the question. None of us had much time for dating, though the tabloids would have you believe otherwise.
"It's just struck me that we're a bunch of old saps"
Tom was laughing quietly to himself while smearing mayo on some bread.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Other people our age would probably be down the pub we went past, scoring chicks and drinking themselves fucking senseless, and we're building a fire and eating sandwiches. We're like a bunch of girls!"
He was right. We laughed and shook our heads at our situation. I drew a sigh, my body and mind were saturated with impressions from this year, and it had been so long it felt like two.
We didn't need to go into detail about it, we both knew that other guys our age probably didn't work as hard as we did; or non-stop. He turned back towards me and handed me a stack of plates. His phone rang.
I took the food and the beer into the living room to eat by the fire. It was so much cozier than eating at the long table in the kitchen.
We sat and began to chow down the sandwiches.
"That was Bobby." Tom filled us in. "He just left the airport so depending on how the weather behaves he'll be here in a couple of hours." He grabbed a beer and plunked down next to me. I looked out of the floor to ceiling windows and noticed it had started to snow. I wondered where Kayla was and what she was doing! It was driving me up the wall not knowing where she was or if we were good.

3 hours later Bobby hadn't arrived yet and the snow was beginning to take the proportions of
a blizzard.
Kevin called him to see how far along he was. He grabbed his plate from the oak coffee table, strewn with cigarette stubs and sandwich crumbs. I went to the windows and looked out. I could hear the wind squeaking through the window frames. It was quite a storm now. Jackson got up and stood next to me.
"You still haven't heard from Kayla?"
He looked as worried as I felt.
"No, she's not picking up her phone" My finger hovered over the green call button on the screen, while I debated with myself; should I call one more time? I was feeling slightly hysterical by now and tried my best to keep it from showing.
"From what I know of her, that's not typical"
He turned his gaze from the blizzard to me. A deep furrow ran between his unusually serious eyes. I felt waves of nervousness and worry pulsing through me.
"No...I don't know what to do or who to call."
I felt the warmth of his hand on my shoulder. We stood in silence for a moment. Kevin and Jackson had seen me and Kayla during the film shoot and they both knew, and teased me endlessly about it, how deep my affections for her ran. But tonight no one was teasing me which told me that my worries were not trivial.
"I can't get a hold of him, seems the connection is down."
Kevin wandered back into the living room, hitching up his pants with a bulky arm that looked like it belonged on Arnold Schwarzenegger in the eighties. He was always cast as the action hero. I looked scrawny next to him, despite my efforts in the gym. We all sat down with grave faces and waited. There was really nothing we could do, except call the police, but he'd not been gone that long, for all we knew he was just taking his time driving carefully through the snow.
I went to get my guitar. I sat down on the corner of the brown couch and let my fingers take my anxiety out on the strings. The others sat still listening. None of us knew how to react. Should we carry on with the evening as if nothing was wrong, or should we be worried? I couldn't help the last. I WAS worried. First Kayla disappeared and now Bobby. What had happened and were the two incidences related?