Only May in Paris Will Tell

By Daisy Jordan

The emotional wreckage of a failed proposal. A broken ankle. A wild bachelorette party at a gay bar. A jaw-dropping exposé on one of the world’s top tennis players. That was May in Paris in 2009, when the tennis tour landed in the city for its annual French Open fortnight. Hilton Joliet, a photographer for the magazine Game Set Match and a friend of several players on tour, was at the center of it all. And in the two months since Paris, life has continued to serve up surprises.

A month ago in Vero Beach, Florida, Hilton told her best friend on tour Tanner Bruin she’s in love with him. Five nights ago in Indianapolis, they kissed, but Tanner still doesn’t know how he feels about her. Last night, Hilton knocked on the Indy hotel door of another friend on tour, her former hookup buddy Haidin Bayliss, to celebrate his latest tennis win. The door was opened by Haidin’s lingerie-clad ex-girlfriend and self-described Hilton enemy, bitchy, outrageous A-list actress Aubrey Gage. This morning, Hilton is 600 miles away in Kansas, driving across the country with her ex-boyfriend and still-best-friend Luke Windler, from whom she fears her life will soon go down a very different road.

In ten months, the next French Open will bring the launch party for Hilton’s photography book Living in a Postcard, a divorce less shocking than the events of the marriage preceding it, two pregnancy announcements, a fake girlfriend on a fake trip who may actually have gone MIA, and a connection between another of the world’s top tennis players and a year-old unsolved murder. Until then, the seductive dance that is the tour lifestyle...one that draws Hilton and her friends together one week and drops them in different corners of the world the next...will swirl on, clouding the air with questions and setting the stage for the answers only May in Paris can reveal.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Daisy Jordan
• Release date: Jan 2, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370668397

Daisy Jordan

I am a YA and adult fiction author currently living in Fort Myers, Florida. My books include YA and general fiction, mostly about relationships and everyday life, with some extra plot twists thrown in for fun! My characters reappear from one novel to the next, and even when they're not main characters in the current book, you can still get updates on their lives. I love writing because I get to capture emotions people feel in everyday life and play with my readers' emotions! ;) I write characters people can relate to, and I almost always end a book with a cliffhanger to keep my readers coming back. Plus, life is always better with a little suspense! ;)

Book preview

YOU WON’T WANT LOVE ONCE YOU KNOW HOW TO SCORE

A beginner’s guide to tennis

A tennis match is divided into either 3 or 5 sets. To win a match, a player must win either 2 sets (in a best-of-3 match) or 3 sets (in a best-of-5 match).

To win a set, a player must win 6 games. The player must win the set by at least 2 games (example: 6-2).

To win a game, a player must score 4 points and win by at least 2. The scoring, however, does not go 1, 2, 3, 4. It goes as follows:

love = 0 points

15 = 1 point

30 = 2 points

40 = 3 points

There is no specific name for the 4th point, because as soon as someone wins it, the game is over, unless the score going into that point was tied at 40-40. If the players are tied at 3 points apiece, or 40-40, this is called deuce. Whoever wins the next point after the deuce has the advantage. If this player wins the next point as well, he/she wins the game. If the player who does not have the advantage wins the next point, the score returns to deuce. This goes on until someone wins the game.

If the score reaches 6 games to 5 in a set, another game is played. If the score is then 7-5, the set is over. If the score is then 6-6, a tiebreaker, or "breaker," is played. To win the tiebreaker, a player must score 7 points and win by at least 2 (example: 7-4). In the tiebreaker the score simply goes 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, and so on. If the score is tied at 6-6, 7-7, or higher, the game goes on until one player wins by 2 (example: 12-10). The winner of the tiebreaker wins the set 7 games to 6, or 7-6.

In 3 major tournaments—the Australian Open, the French Open, and Wimbledon—tiebreakers are not allowed in the 5th set of matches. Therefore, if players are tied at 6 games apiece in the 5th set, they will continue playing normal games until one player has won by 2. The longest 5th set to ever be played was at Wimbledon in 2010, when John Isner of the US beat Nicolas Mahut of France 70-68 in the 5th set of their 1st-round match.

Scores of matches are written and announced as follows in this example:

Player 1 d. Player 2: 6-4, 5-7, 7-6(1), 7-6(8).

The numbers in parentheses () tell the scores of the tiebreakers. The number shown in parentheses is the number of points scored by the player who lost the tiebreaker. Given this number, it can be determined how many the winner scored as well, since it is known the winner must score at least 7 and win by at least 2.

So, here is what can be interpreted from the above score:

1) Player 1 defeated Player 2.

2) This was a best-of-5 match, because Player 1 had to win 3 sets to win the match.

3) Player 1 won the 1st set 6 games to 4, lost the 2nd set 5 games to 7, and won the 3rd and 4th sets in tiebreakers.

4) In the 3rd-set tiebreaker, the losing player (Player 2) scored only 1 point. Therefore, it can be deduced that Player 1 scored 7 points since 7 points must be scored in order to win.

5) In the 4th-set tiebreaker, the losing player (Player 2) scored 8 points. This means Player 1 had to have scored 10 points, since the tiebreaker must be won by 2.

At the beginning of a match, a coin flip is performed to see who will serve the first game. The other player serves the second game, and they continue to switch back and forth every game of the match. Typically, players win the games they serve. Every time this happens, it is called a hold. Players are said to have "held serve." If a player is able to win a game while the other player is serving, it is called a break. The player who lost the game he/she served has "been broken." The following are some terms that go along with serving.

up a break: a player is ahead in the set because he/she has broken the other player’s serve (up 2 breaks would mean a player has broken the other player twice in the set, and so on)

down a break: a player is behind in the set because he/she has been broken (down 2 breaks would mean a player has been broken twice in the set, and so on)

on serve: no one has broken in the set; each player has held his/her own serve in every game

back on serve: each player has broken the other player an equal number of times in the set, so that the score is what it would be if each player had held his/her serve in every game

trade breaks: one player breaks, then the other player breaks back so that the score is back on serve

fault: a player’s serve does not land within the service lines on the court

2nd serve: after a fault, the player’s 2nd try to serve the ball within the service lines

double-fault: a player serves 2 faults in a row and therefore loses the point

let: a player serves and the ball hits the net on the way over but still lands within the service lines—the player then gets a free do-over

We don’t expect you to remember all of this, but feel free to use it as a guide, tear it out to keep by your TV when you watch tennis, refer to it while reading GSM, use it to improve your tennis lingo, etc. If you do take one thing from this how-to, just remember…love won’t help your game in this sport. GSM

Paris

May 24-25, 2010

So did the condos sell? Hilton asked Luke at Raquel’s first-round match.

Yeah, they both did, Luke said. She had hers completely redone. Like they tore out the shower and the whole bathroom, basically. Everything’s new.

We wondered if she’d somehow be liable if he couldn’t sell his or something, Jill said.

It wasn’t even an issue, Luke said. They both sold really quickly. But no, he would’ve had a tough time proving she’d had a direct effect on his not selling, unless every potential buyer had specifically said that’s why they didn’t put an offer on it. If it’d happened in his…that could’ve been a different story. It’s probably good for her it happened in hers.

Did they sell to crazies, or actual buyers? Hilton asked.

I think legit buyers. Some techie with millions from a startup bought his, and an old lady bought hers. A retiree who said she wanted to downsize.

Wow, Hilton said.

We had to tell her what had happened there, Luke said. But when she heard it was all being redone, she didn’t care. She didn’t seem like she knew who they were.

Well, that’s probably for the best, Hilton said.

For such a batshit crazy marriage, their divorce went pretty smoothly, Jill said.

Yeah, Luke said. I guess not everything has to be a shitshow, even for them.

We heard you’ve become the go-to lawyer for dissatisfied Indiana wives, Jill said.

Become? Luke said. When was I not that?

***

What’s in Brussels? Nate asked that night at dinner.

Hilton looked at him. He was on his phone, scrolling.

"What is in Brussels?" Tanner asked Nate.

Planning a surprise for your girlfriend? Damian asked with a grin.

Something like that, Nate said.

Tanner, Hilton, Damian, Noah, and Jill exchanged a look.

You kinda owe her one, I guess, Noah said. She’s been coming to visit you a lot.

I know. Nate grinned but didn’t look away from his phone.

Miami, Monte Carlo, Barcelona, Rome… Noah said. All in the last two months.

Yeah, Nate said. She felt bad she couldn’t be here for the French, so…

It does feel weird here without her, Damian said.

You could take her to the royal wedding, Hilton joked. It’s in Brussels.

Nate looked up. What?

Uh, the royal wedding? Damian said. Prince Arnaud of Belgium is marrying Kella Auerbach, this fabulous ex-New Yorker who went to school at the Sorbonne and is now an art acquisitionist at Le Musée des Arts de Saint-Gilles in Brussels?! And their engagement was a huge scandal because it was only weeks after his brother’s death?!

Oh yeah, Nate said. That prince who died last year.

Damian, Hilton, and Jill exchanged a look, like, seriously?! Prince Alain’s murder had been the story of last summer. He’d been found on a Brussels street, shot three times at close range.

Wait, Nate said. What’d you say about the girl the other prince is marrying?

Damian repeated his description.

When’s the wedding? Nate asked.

June 12, Hilton said. "You can’t actually go."

No, I know, Nate said.

Our friend Lorylyn’s going, Jill said, motioning between herself and Hilton.

Noah, Nate, and Damian stared at her. Tanner knew already.

"What?! Damian said. Why the hell have you not told me this?"

Jill laughed. She’s friends with Kella’s brother.

"What? How?!"

It’s a long story. She’s never actually met Kella. But one of her college roommates was from New York and grew up with Kella and her brother.

Holy…I’m so jealous.

Jill and Hilton laughed. Damian looked truly stunned.

Sorry, mate, I don’t know anything about Brussels, Noah said to Nate with a shrug.

So what’s the big surprise for…your lucky lady? Tanner asked. Is she gonna have any idea what hit her?

Nate flipped him off. No, what you guys said gave me an idea. Hilton or Jill, has she ever said anything to you about any friends in Brussels or anything?

No… Hilton and Jill said.

Nate shrugged. He was on his phone again.

So we don’t get any details? Noah asked.

Not yet, Nate said. He looked up at them, appearing to have thought of something else. What’d they ever find out about that prince’s murder?

Nothing, Hilton said. It’s still unsolved.

Their waitress appeared. Vous avez besoin de quelque chose?

"Non, merci," Hilton said. She and Jill were the only ones who even dabbled in French. L’addition, s’il vous plaît.

The waitress nodded and walked away.

Did you ask for the check? Noah asked.

Hilton nodded with a grin.

So, are we hitting up Ravissement? Damian asked. Tanner still hasn’t been there. Ravissement was the gay club where they’d had Jill’s bachelorette party last summer during the French Open. It was nearby in this area of Paris, Le Marais. And I think he should have the real experience before Hilton’s book launch Saturday.

Hell yes, Hilton said.

It’s the main reason I’m in Paris, Jill said.

I’m gonna actually head back, I think, Nate said.

What? Tanner asked as the others stared at Nate. You don’t play tomorrow. Even I’m going for a little bit. Tanner played the second match tomorrow on Philippe Chatrier, the biggest court. It would probably start around three in the afternoon.

I know. I need to work on this though.

You’re not proposing or something, are you? Damian asked.

Nate looked at him in surprise now. No.

Damian raised his hands. Hey, I don’t know, you’re being kinda weird.

I’m just distracted, Nate said, looking back at his phone.

Looking at engagement rings? Noah asked.

No. Nate put his phone down on the table. Sorry. No.

Hilton was dying for a peek at Nate’s phone. She didn’t really think he was going to propose—she hoped not—but she was curious as hell what he was planning.

***

Much later, when Hilton and Jill got back to the hotel from Ravissement, Jill rushed into the bathroom. She’d had to pee the whole way back. Hilton sat on the bed and dug in the zipper pocket of her purse for her lip gloss. She couldn’t find it. She hoped she hadn’t lost it at the bar; it was the only one she’d brought. She might have to go buy some tomorrow.

Then she remembered she’d tossed some in her laptop case a few months ago so it’d be easy to access on a plane. She reached down beside the bed and felt around for the laptop case. She pulled it out and opened the inside pocket. Her hands hit what felt like newspaper.

What the hell? she asked herself out loud. She pulled the newspaper out. Oh my gosh, she said with a laugh. It was the one she and Luke had taken from that rest stop last summer because they’d been jokingly looking for a secret code in it. Hilton had stuffed it in her laptop case to take on her first trip after that, in case she had time to search through it, but she hadn’t looked at it since.

She walked over to sit down at the desk and switched on the lamp. She heard the toilet flushing, then water running in the sink.

Hilton flipped the paper open to the partially done cryptogram. Right away, she noticed something that had eluded her before. It was probably because of the conversation at dinner earlier. She felt chills. She frowned and double-checked. She was pretty drunk. But yeah…weird. Was this for real?

She looked at the crossword, her heart racing. Again, it jumped out at her. She flinched backward. What the hell?! She glanced toward the bathroom, wanting Jill to come out. Then she glanced toward the door to the hallway. A wave of fear washed over her, like when she’d watched The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo and had that crazy sense of something evil lurking in the hallway right outside the room. She felt like somebody, somehow, knew what she’d just discovered, and she was in danger because of it.

Like the cryptogram, the crossword was something she wouldn’t have noticed last summer. Maybe she should have, but it just hadn’t been on her mind during the drive to California. It was definitely tonight’s dinner conversation that was making her see it.

Could this really be…some kind of message?! She glanced at the door again, then shook herself. Or was this just the mom at the rest stop McDonald’s doing some theorizing of her own? Not really meant for the man who’d sat down afterward to find? If it had been meant for him to find, who had he then passed it on to?! He’d left the newspaper behind, and he’d sat there looking at it only a couple minutes. But if you knew what you were looking for, this message was beyond clear.

I’m having some kind of drunk hallucination, Hilton thought. She wouldn’t be surprised, really, if some kind of drug had been slipped into her drink at Ravissement. But she had felt fine all night, and she still did…

Jill came out of the bathroom.

Jill. Come here. Look at this again. Hilton thought her voice sounded edgy, hyped up. She had shown this to Jill last summer, and Jill hadn’t seen any kind of code or pattern or message either. Hilton wanted to see if she did now, after the dinner conversation.

Jill took the paper and looked at it, frowning as she concentrated. Then her eyes widened and she looked back at Hilton. Are you seeing something here this time?!

Hilton nodded.

Do you think…? Jill asked.

I think our minds were poised to find it this time, Hilton said.

Jill stared, her eyes wide in shock, then nodded once.

Hilton ran back to her purse, dug out her phone, and called Luke.

10 Months Earlier

I-70 West

Kansas

MM348

July 27, 2009

What do you think’s the weirdest thing somebody has in their car out there? Luke asked.

Hilton narrowed her eyes as she took a bite of her Bacon, Egg & Cheese Biscuit. She chewed thoughtfully. I mean, the obvious answer is a dead body. But I like to think there’s something like…a trunk with a false bottom, and some FBI or CIA agent has a whole secret life hidden under there that his family doesn’t know about. She looked around the McDonald’s. It was about 8:30 on a Monday morning, and the service plaza was busier than Hilton had expected for a rest stop west of Kansas City and Topeka. It was accessible only by westbound traffic, and there was nothing on the road ahead except miles and miles of…probably nothing. 348 miles of nothing until the Colorado border. "Or her family." Hilton nodded toward a nearby table.

Luke turned to look over his shoulder.

The parents were fairly young, maybe around thirty. The dad was wiping one of the boys’ mouths with a napkin. The boys looked like twins, maybe five or six. The mom had a newspaper in front of her and a pen in her hand, but she was talking to the other boy. They were all dressed casually, the dad and boys in shorts and the mom in jeans and a tank top.

She’s circling letters in the paper, Hilton said. Her husband thinks she’s scanning the stories and doing the crossword, and he’s too busy with the boys to realize she’s not just writing on the crossword page. She’ll leave the paper when they go, and somebody else will sit down and pretend to browse the paper that happened to be left behind. But really, there’ll be a message in it.

Luke looked back at her with a grin. I hope you’re right. That’d be pretty freaking cool.

Hilton laughed, her golden-brown eyes sparkling as she grinned back at Luke. It was one of those moments they’d been having for years…one filled with the easy laughter and knowing looks of an inside joke. Or not even so much an inside joke…more like shared thoughts, a deeply rooted connection from years of knowing each other, living together, and being best friends. It was kind of like their whole relationship was an inside joke. One that only the two of them—well, and for the most part their other best friends Jill and Todd—truly got. One that produced a visible bond, evident to outsiders by body language, smiles, and the kind of eye contact that said so much no words were necessary.

I’m glad you came with me, she said to Luke.

Yeah, ‘cause otherwise you’d be going around and around in your head about Haidin, Luke said with another grin.

Yeah, Hilton said, wrinkling her nose and shivering a little, but still half laughing. Fuck that.

Haidin was the guy she’d started hooking up with around the time she and Luke had broken up last fall. It had never been anything serious with Haidin, and Hilton hadn’t wanted it to be. She hadn’t wanted a relationship right away after being with Luke for seven years. She had just wanted something exciting and fun, which was exactly what Haidin had been. Until they’d gone on a vacation together in Australia in February and gotten too close to being a couple.

Hilton had wanted to pull back after that, but she’d been afraid Haidin would think she was pulling back from him as a friend. And their friendship mattered a lot to her, because Haidin never let anybody in. He’d had a tough childhood that included being abused by his dad, and he’d never told anyone about it before Hilton, except his ex-girlfriend Aubrey.

Haidin and Aubrey’s relationship had been tumultuous, fiery, and filled with public nastiness, but they had stayed together for almost two years because of the dark thread connecting them—they each knew a secret about the other that nobody else in the world knew. They had fed on that bond; it had sustained their relationship and each of them as individuals…the images they were trying to project in the media, the careers they were trying to build. It had worked for a long time, until Haidin told somebody else his secret. The moment Aubrey found out he’d told Hilton about his childhood, she’d broken up with him. A hard, fast, permanent break.

So Haidin said, and so Hilton believed.

Then last night, Haidin had won the Indianapolis tennis tournament and Hilton had gone to his hotel room with a bottle of champagne to celebrate—not because she’d wanted to hook up with him; that aspect of their relationship had been pretty much over for a couple months now, but because she’d told him the next time he won a tournament she wanted to celebrate with him—and Aubrey had opened the door in lingerie.

Hilton had been stunned to the point of barely saying anything as Haidin looked slightly guilty and tried to explain and Aubrey looked bored. Hilton had left them the bottle of champagne and gotten the hell out of there. And now, three and a half hours of sleep, eight and a half hours of driving, and however many hundred miles later, the same questions were still swirling in her head. The one thing she could remember choking out in the hotel room was asking how long Haidin and Aubrey had been hooking up again. The answer had been, Since the Go Green party.

The Go Green party had been in February, the same day Hilton and Haidin had gotten back from their vacation in Australia. They had flown into New York that morning, and he’d gone to his apartment on West 42nd Street, saying he wouldn’t be caught dead at the Go Green party because Aubrey would probably be there and he didn’t want a run-in with her. Hilton had gone to SoHo to meet her friend Bryony, who was getting ready to model for Givenchy at the party. Hilton and Bryony had laughed about Hilton’s somewhat disastrous vacation with Haidin. It actually hadn’t been that bad, except in Hilton’s mind, because she’d wondered at the beginning of it if someday way down the road she and Haidin might be able to be a real couple, then quickly discovered that would never happen because of how different they were, especially in how they lived their daily lives when away from the tennis tour. Bryony had said Hilton needed to hook up with somebody else that night at the party. Hilton had said she would want to except she was afraid it would hurt Haidin.

At the party, Hilton and Bryony had seen Aubrey, who’d been there with Telan Gangley, her costar in the wildly popular TV drama NYC and her at-the-time boyfriend, or fling, or something. It was publicly known she’d cheated on Haidin with him, and they’d continued whatever it was they had going on after she and Haidin had broken up.

Hilton and Bryony had left the party around two with their friend Austin, another of Aubrey and Telan’s NYC costars, and gone to Austin’s apartment in the Village, where they’d ordered sushi from a twenty-four-hour place and stayed up till six, when Tanner Bruin’s tennis match came on TV, which they’d wanted to watch because Tanner was Austin’s boyfriend, Bryony’s ex, and one of Hilton’s best friends. Aubrey had apparently gotten in a fight with Telan at some point after that and called Haidin, who lived in the same building as her. Or maybe she’d just gone to his place. Either way, they’d hooked up.

And they’d kept doing so throughout the spring and summer, even though Haidin and Hilton had still hooked up sometimes too. Hilton had felt relieved when Haidin didn’t seem to want more after their trip to Australia. They’d gone a few weeks without hooking up at all, and then when they had again, it’d been great and just like normal, nothing serious. Their hookups had tapered off over the last couple months, but Hilton had still considered him her friend and had been excited to celebrate his win with him last night. When she’d shown up at his hotel room and seen Aubrey, she hadn’t even really known what to feel.

She’d gone home barely able to process it, fallen asleep for a few hours, then woken up still feeling totally weird. Luke had asked her if she wanted to leave for LA right then, or in the morning like they’d planned, and Hilton had said, Let’s go tonight. She’d been more than ready to get on the road with Luke and headed toward her new life. She wanted to leave the strange scene in Haidin’s hotel room behind. She wasn’t jealous, and she wasn’t sad; she was really just wondering if she and Haidin had ever been friends.

She had thought he’d opened up so much with her, gone from being a complete asshole in the media and to everyone he interacted with to being actually kind of funny and enjoyable to hang out with. He had friends now, he made jokes, he smiled. None of these things had been true when Hilton had first met him. She had thought it was her presence in his life and their friendship…his trust in her…that had helped him get where he was today.

But now she didn’t even know where he was today. Had he changed at all? In her mind, Aubrey had been part of his old life, the one where everyone had referred to him as Hades. But now knowing how easily he’d gone back to Aubrey, Hilton wondered if his two lives could be so easily defined. Maybe there wasn’t Hades and Haidin, the before and after, maybe there was just Hades. Maybe it hadn’t even been a second thought for him to hook up with Aubrey all spring and summer and say nothing to Hilton. Maybe he had been using Hilton when he’d made sure they got photographed kissing in Barcelona…maybe he had wanted to throw the press off him and Aubrey, or maybe he had wanted to make Aubrey jealous. He had flat-out told Hilton back when they’d first met and he’d hired her as his assistant that part of the reason he’d wanted to hire her was to make Aubrey jealous. That was when he’d definitely been Hades.

But now…who knew? Not Hilton, and she didn’t really care at the moment. Luke was right; she would be thinking about Haidin if she’d been on this drive alone. So thank goodness she wasn’t, because she’d much rather think about the great time she and Luke had had so far, driving through the night in the rain, blaring their iPods, running through puddles into a gas station to buy Cokes and Jalapeño Cheetos.

Yeah, Luke agreed. Fuck that.

That does pretty much sum up how I feel about it, Hilton said.

Do you think you guys will even still be friends? Luke asked.

Hilton shrugged. I have no idea. I guess we’ll just see how things play out.

Well if it’s anything like before, I guess you guys won’t be, Luke said. Since Aubrey thinks you’re a big freaking bitch. He smiled again.

Hilton smiled back. Right?

Aubrey was downright spiteful when she wanted to be, which she always did around Hilton. Even now that Hilton and Austin, Aubrey’s NYC costar and real-life best friend, were somewhat close, Aubrey still detested Hilton. Haidin’s initial ploy of using Hilton to make Aubrey jealous had worked, plus Hilton had once taken pictures of Haidin cheating on Aubrey with a random girl in Rome, so Aubrey hated her for that too.

Those had been the pictures that had gotten her the job she had now, working as a photographer for Game Set Match, a weekly tennis magazine. It had also indirectly gotten her the job with Haidin, working as his assistant for a year with the real mission of using her connections at GSM to get him good press. It had been a nearly impossible job and one Hilton never would have taken, because a year and a half ago when it’d been offered to her she’d wanted nothing to do with Haidin Bayliss, portrayed in the media as tennis’s sexy bad boy but in reality the flat-out most derisive, arrogant asshole Hilton had ever met. It didn’t matter that he was hot as hell when being around him was hell. But then Haidin’s manager Oscar had offered her a book deal through Adelaide International, the publishing company left to Haidin by his grandpa. Hilton’s dream as a photographer had always been to publish a book of her photos.

So she had taken the job. It had only been for a year, and she’d still gotten to work for GSM during that year too. Oscar had paid her a million dollars on top of the book deal, plus all her travel expenses. The job had led to her friendship with Haidin and their eventual hooking up. She’d finished working for him in December, and they’d gone on the vacation in Australia in February. Through the spring, the tennis tour had often brought them to the same cities in the same weeks—Hilton for her job with GSM and Haidin because he was the No. 4 player in the world—and they’d hooked up when they felt like it. And now…this.

Weirdly, it was also those first pictures, the ones of Haidin cheating on Aubrey with the random girl in Rome, that had led to Hilton’s breakup with Luke. It had taken almost a year and a half, but had Hilton never gotten the job with GSM and then the job with Haidin, she wouldn’t have been traveling so much, and things wouldn’t have become strained with her and Luke. Crazy what one day could do, how pivotal an unexpected event could be. Almost every single aspect of her life had changed as a result of that night two years ago, those two pictures she’d snapped when Haidin and that girl had gotten off the elevator in the Rome hotel where she’d happened to be staying.

Except this move from Indianapolis to LA. This would probably be happening regardless. But Luke would probably be moving with her, because they’d probably be engaged.

I really am so glad you came with me, Hilton said, because she couldn’t really think about how she might be engaged to Luke and how he might be moving with her. It wasn’t something she wanted anymore, but the idea of it still devastated her. When he left LA and flew back to Indy three days from now, their group of four—her, Jill, Todd, and Luke—would officially be no more. At least not the way they had been for the last four years, when they’d all been roommates. Jill and Todd had just gotten married, and they and their daughter Adria would have their own house in LA. Hilton would be a few blocks away, in a house maybe she could’ve shared with Luke. Well, no. Because without working for Haidin, she would never have been able to afford this house. But she and Luke would’ve been somewhere near Jill and Todd. Somewhere together. And their group of four would’ve remained intact. Instead, Luke would be on a plane back to Indy on Thursday, and on Friday he’d be moving into a one-bedroom apartment on Monument Circle, right at the center of downtown. He would continue his job at a downtown law firm, and his life would move in a separate direction from the rest of theirs.

Me too, Luke said, crumpling his two Sausage McMuffin wrappers and tossing them on the tray. Thanks for the invite.

Oh my gosh, Hilton said, subtly tilting her head.

Luke turned and looked over his shoulder. The family a couple tables over was gone, but the newspaper remained on the table. There was a man sitting down. All he had was a coffee, and he immediately began to browse through the paper.

If he leaves in less than five minutes, he seriously only came to look at the paper, Hilton said.

They both watched and sipped the last of their drinks. The man was wearing khaki pants and a polo shirt with a round fisherman’s hat.

He could so be a spy, Hilton whispered.

He does kinda have the look.

Less than three minutes after he sat down, the man closed the newspaper, folded it, and stood. He walked out of the service plaza, leaving the paper on the table.

Hilton and Luke looked at each other, then Hilton jumped up and hurried over to the table. She gave a quick look around, then grabbed the paper.

Any circled letters? Luke asked when she sat back down.

No, Hilton said, scanning the pages. At least I don’t see anything yet.

Was she really doing the crossword?

Hilton turned another page. There’s a few of the spaces filled in. The cryptogram too. She started it but didn’t finish.

Let’s take it with us. Maybe we’ll find something.

Okay. Hilton closed the newspaper and folded it back up. She looked at Luke. Ready?

Yep. Ready to sleep. Your turn to drive.

No way. Remember our deal; we only sleep together. Hilton grinned as she stood to go. She and Luke had said they would both stay awake no matter who was driving, and when one of them got tired, they’d go to a rest stop.

Oh yeah, Luke said, pinching her side as he walked past her toward the trash with their tray. We only sleep together.

Hermosa Beach, California

July 27, 2009

We’re finally at the beeeaaach! Adria cried, spinning in circles with her arms out to her sides and her waist-length light brown hair flowing around her. She twirled and twirled until she finally collapsed in the sand.

I know! Jill cried, running and doing a cartwheel. She felt giddy, like she was a teenager. She giggled.

"We finally live here! Todd said, scooping Adria out of the sand and throwing her over his shoulder. She screamed joyously. Can you guys believe this shi—, I mean, crap?!"

Jill’s parents and Todd’s mom laughed. They were sitting in beach chairs, eating the picnic lunch they’d packed.

No! Winnie, Jill’s nineteen-year-old sister, cried. I can’t believe this shi-crap! I hate you guys! She laughed too. But thanks for letting me come along.

Like they had a choice, Jill and Winnie’s dad said. "And you’ve been so much help."

Hey! Winnie cried. I have! I helped Adria choose which bedroom she wanted, and we started putting away all her stuff yesterday.

Adria nodded seriously as Todd set her back on the sand. It’s true, Grandpa Russ. She did help me.

Russ laughed. I know, honey. I’m just giving Aunt Winnie a hard time.

"This is seriously soooo amazing, Winnie said. I’m gonna try to get an internship out here next summer so I can come live with you guys."

Oh, goody, Todd said sarcastically, then he laughed and held up his hands in self-defense when Winnie glared at him. Just kidding, Winner. Always welcome.

That’d actually be so fun, Winnie, Jill said. You really should try to get one.

Winnie beamed and took a huge bite of her sandwich.

Yay, Aunt Winnie’s gonna come live with us! Adria said. She looked at Jill and frowned. When do Hilton and Luke get here?

Probably sometime tomorrow night, Jill told her. Or maybe Wednesday morning. Hilton had sent her a text a couple hours ago, at what would’ve been around 12:30 in Kansas. Finally stopping to sleep, can’t keep our eyes open. 60 mi to Colorado. Kansas sucks :)

I can’t believe Luke’s driving with her, Winnie said. Do you think they’ll get back together?

No, Jill said.

Winnie looked disappointed, and Jill smiled a little to herself. Winnie had always been intrigued by Jill’s and Jill’s friends’ relationships. Once when Jill was in high school and Winnie was in elementary school—or maybe more than once; Jill just knew of one time—Winnie had listened in on a phone conversation between Jill and Todd, during which they had joked about meeting at midnight at their normal spot, and Winnie had threatened to tell their parents if Jill didn’t give her all the details later. So Jill had made up a juicy story just for fun and told Winnie they’d kissed. Really she and Todd had been just friends back then, but who knew what Winnie really thought. Jill bet if she told Winnie now she’d made up that story, Winnie wouldn’t believe it. It had been exciting for her as a little girl, thinking her big sister was sneaking out to meet a boy.

Jill and Todd hadn’t actually kissed, at least not for real, until years later, but they did have plenty of good stories Jill would never tell Winnie, including the one of the night they’d kissed for real for the first time. There had been other kisses before that, joking around or playing spin the bottle, but the first real one had been the best night of Jill’s life. And also the night Adria was conceived. Yep, she definitely wasn’t telling Winnie that story.

Why are you smiling? Winnie demanded. Do you think they really are getting back together?

No, Jill said. I’m smiling ‘cause we just walked to the beach from our house.

Hell yeah we did! Todd grabbed Jill this time and spun her around in a quick circle. She laughed and squealed, still feeling giddy. When he put her down they high-fived.

I want a high five too! Adria cried, running over.

Todd leaned down and smacked her hand, then Jill held hers out too and Adria hit it as hard as she could.

I can’t wait till we go shopping and get new stuff for our house! Adria said.

Yeah, we might start that tomorrow, Jill said. They had arrived in LA around four a.m. Sunday after fifty-five hours of being on the road. They’d immediately crashed, then they’d spent Sunday afternoon and evening unpacking the three vehicles they’d brought and starting to put things away in the house. They were nowhere near finished, but they’d at least moved everything inside. Today was Monday, and they’d worked a little more this morning, then packed a picnic lunch and come to the beach, because Adria had been begging since they’d woken up yesterday. Jill had been ready to ditch the work for a while and come check out the beach too. Their beach. She grinned again.

When will you and Daddy get jobs? Adria asked.

Jill and Todd looked at each other.

Hopefully soon! Todd said, raising his eyebrows at Jill.

She laughed and raised hers back. Yep, hopefully soon or we’ll be moving back to Indiana!

And living in Grandma Lynn’s basement, Todd joked.

Oh no, his mom said. You absolutely will not.

They all laughed except Adria.

You better hurry up and get jobs then, Adria said seriously.

Everybody laughed again.

We’ll try! Todd said.

He and Jill had decided to leave Indy several months ago because Jill couldn’t really get the kind of job she wanted there. She had a master’s in forensic psychology and wanted to work in jury selection and eyewitness testimony, but there weren’t many cases in Indiana big enough for a forensic psychologist to be called in to analyze potential jurors or witnesses. So they had checked out several cities…Chicago, Seattle, Portland, San Francisco, and LA. Jill had loved LA ever since coming here in high school for her Aunt Marcy’s funeral, and when she, Todd, and Adria had visited back in February, they’d found the house they now owned, so it had been an easy decision. They would need to find jobs pretty quickly though, because the house had cost 1.3 million, and even with the million-dollar trust fund Jill’s Aunt Marcy had left her and the great mortgage rate their bank had set up for them, they could run out of money if they didn’t start working fairly soon. They had chosen an amazing house in a kickass location because it was the kind of thing they did. They followed their dreams and their instincts. Jill had no second thoughts about the move; she just hoped it didn’t get to a point where they had to worry too much about money.

Do you think you’ll get to train any celebs? Winnie asked Todd. What if you really are the next Gunnar Peterson?

Jill laughed. Todd was a personal trainer, and ever since they’d decided they were moving to LA, they’d joked about how easy it should be for him to find a job since everybody in LA wanted to be in shape, and they’d said maybe he would become the next famous celebrity trainer.

Well, Winner, Todd said, I think the more realistic outlook is that I’ll be the trainer wishing he was Gunnar Peterson, training the losers who wish they were famous and/or rich enough to hire Gunnar Peterson. Actually, just kidding. I won’t ever wish I’m GP. I’m way too awesome being myself.

Winnie snorted, but Jill knew Winnie worshipped Todd. Winnie had always dreamed of having that guy who was her best-friend-turned-boyfriend. She’d watched it play out for Jill, even though she was far from knowing exactly how it’d played out, and it was her idea of the perfect love story.

Jill smiled, because it was her idea of the perfect love story too. She was in love with Todd, in love with Adria, in love with their new house in Hermosa Beach, in love with her life. The jobs would come; she was sure of it. And she was sure Winnie would find what she was looking for too.

When can we bring Aspen and Cookie Monster to the beach? Adria, who didn’t like staying on one subject for too long, asked.

Oh, I forgot, let me go get them right now, Todd said.

Jill gave Todd a fake glare. Daddy’s silly; he doesn’t think kitties would like the beach. But he just doesn’t know Cookie Monster and Aspen like we do. She flashed Adria a secretive smile. We’ll get up really early some morning, and we’ll bring them, and Daddy won’t even know.

Ooohh, okay! Adria sang, her dark brown eyes lighting up.

Jill grinned back, loving how everything about Adria—the chocolate eyes, the light brown hair, her facial features—was the spitting image of Todd. Todd said he thought Adria’s face resembled Jill’s more, but Jill just looked at Adria and saw Todd.

Ooohh, okayyy, Todd echoed teasingly. He made a move to grab Adria again, and she jumped away giggling. Mommy and Adria, best friends, always going behind Daddy’s back, Todd said.

We should have Scrappy come visit! Adria shouted. Scrappy was the dog Jill had gotten Todd for his eighteenth birthday, and he lived with Todd’s mom in Caldwell, Indiana. Grandma Lynn, can Scrappy come visit?

I think that’s a fabulous idea, Lynn said with a smile at Adria, then one at Todd. We’ll take him for long walks on the beach, and he can hang out with Aspen and Cookie Monster…

Yayyyy! Adria squealed.

Mom, you need a boyfriend, Todd said.

Jill burst out laughing and hit Todd in the shoulder. His parents had been divorced since his and Jill’s senior year of high school. It had been a nasty split, to say the least, and Todd’s dad was no longer in the picture at all. He hadn’t been invited to Jill and Todd’s wedding, and Todd hadn’t talked to him since senior year. They had no idea where he even lived now or what he was doing, but they assumed he still lived in Logan, a bigger city about forty-five minutes from Caldwell. Logan was where he had worked at the time and where he had moved when he left Todd’s mom’s house.

I have a boyfriend, Lynn said.

What?! Todd was on full alert. Who is he? Why am I just now hearing about this?

I met him online, Lynn said. I can’t remember the site. I think it was something like iwantitnow.com.

Jill burst out laughing all over again. So did her parents and Winnie.

Mom! Todd was horrified. So not funny; what the fuck?!

You totally deserved that, Jill said.

What is iwantitnow.com? Adria asked. Daddy, you cussed!

Mom? Todd asked, gesturing at Adria. Jill had fallen on her back in the sand and could hardly breathe, she was laughing so hard.

Something you should tell all your friends about when you start school in the fall, Jill’s mom said to Adria.

Jill sat up. Mom!

Jill’s mom was laughing too. Just kidding, Adria. Don’t ever mention that to your friends.

Okay, Adria said, totally confused. But what is it?

It’s the dating website where Grandma Lynn met her boyfriend, Todd said sarcastically, sticking his tongue out at his mom.

What’s a dating website? Adria asked.

Something mean grandmas use to play jokes on their sons, Todd said.

Oh, grow a pair, Todd’s mom said, and everybody burst out laughing again.

I-70 West

Colorado

MM213

Eisenhower Tunnel

Elevation 11,013 ft

July 27, 2009

This is so freaking cool! Hilton cried, aiming her camera out the front window and taking several shots. We definitely picked the wrong time to come through Colorado though.

Yeah, it woulda been sweet in the daylight. Maybe easier too. This is by far the craziest road I’ve ever driven, Luke said.

For the last hour or so, ever since they’d stopped at an exit on the west side of Denver for food, the Rockies looming in front of them, I-70 had become an uphill—and sometimes downhill followed by another incline—thrill ride of twists and turns surrounded by guardrails and cliffs they could sense in the dark but not really see. The sun had been setting when they’d stopped for food, and when they’d resumed their drive, they’d lost all light ten minutes in. Signs advertised runaway truck ramps and said things like 6% Grade Next 7 Miles Trucks Use Low Gears. Hilton was surprised to see that even with the intermittent downhill spurts, when they seemed to lose as much elevation as they’d gained, their altitude steadily continued to increase. Idaho Springs Elevation 7,526 ft, Georgetown Elevation 8,530 ft, Silver Plume Elevation 9,101 ft, the signs informed them.

And now, the Eisenhower Tunnel, announced like the mountain towns by a sign outside its entrance: 11,013 feet. It had been illuminated enough for them to see that they were literally driving right into the side of the mountain. It was like the tunnel had just been carved out of the rock. It was one of the coolest things Hilton had ever seen. Now, inside, their tires ran loudly along the pavement, and the silver walls whistled by. They were the only car in sight. It reminded Hilton of being on the subway in New York or Paris or Madrid as she tried to snap pictures showing the movement in the flash of silver wall and the reflection of the car window, then just the flash of silver when she rolled the window down.

Get anything good? Luke asked a couple minutes later when they exited the tunnel into the still night. Hilton’s window was all the way down, and Luke’s was open a little ways. The fresh air of Rocky Mountain darkness wafted into the car, and Hilton felt the chilly breeze on her arms. She was still wearing the I ♥ NY tank she’d had on all day. She knew Colorado could get super cold at night, and her phone had said the low tonight in Vail, which was another thirty miles or so up the road, was thirty-six. Hilton reached for her sweatshirt on the console.

Maybe a couple, she said as she slid it over her head. I think the ones I got of the entrance are gonna be awesome. She had been prepared, because just out of Denver, there had been an overhead sign informing them 22 min to Idaho Springs, 49 min to Tunnel, 1 hr 20 min to Vail. She and Luke had been intrigued by Tunnel, so Hilton had Googled I70 west Colorado tunnel on her phone, and they’d learned the Eisenhower Tunnel was the highest point on the US interstate system. It ran almost 1.7 miles in each direction and shuttled travelers under the Continental Divide. The alternate route was to exit I-70 three miles before it and take the winding, two-lane Highway 6 up and over Loveland Pass.

Oh my gosh, Loveland Pass, Hilton said now as she started to look at her pictures. She’d thought it sounded familiar at the time, and something had just struck her. Was that a stop on the Oregon Trail?

That sounds kinda familiar, Luke said. Wait. Independence Pass?

Oh yeah. I think it was Independence Pass. Hilton put down her camera and Googled Independence Pass. Yeah, that has to be it. Aspen to Leadville via Independence Pass…ranked the third scariest drive in America. She scanned the article. ‘Hairpin turns…frequently no guardrails…at one point the road narrows to a fourteen-foot pass.’ Yeah. Wait. Independence, Missouri. Wasn’t that the start of the game? Where the wagons set out from? Maybe it was Loveland Pass.

Or maybe they named Independence Pass after Independence, Missouri.

Hilton was still reading. You might be right. It says they set up a town just below the pass, and the town was called Independence. It says it’s a ghost town now. She looked over at Luke. Creepy. I love it.

Luke laughed. Too bad we don’t have time to go. That does sound kinda awesome.

I know. Hilton half jumped when her phone rang. She looked down, expecting it to be Jill. What? she laughed when she saw it was Oscar Turcell, Haidin’s agent/manager. It’s Oscar, she told Luke. Hello?

Where are you?

Hilton laughed again. Oscar was as bad as Haidin sometimes, spitting out questions and giving no reason for wanting the information. Sadly, Haidin had probably rubbed off on him. Or maybe Oscar had always been like that; maybe it’s why he and Haidin, although they