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She gave me a tight smile. I could tell she didn’t like dealing with Saul. I wasn’t so green as to fall for letting them talk to me without representation. There was too much money at stake, and I didn’t know all the ins and outs of movie contracts. Saul had hammered that point home when he reviewed my contract for Star Academy. He pointed out that I had to pay for expenses like travel and hotel rooms during the shoot; it was mostly little stuff that all added up. The bottom line was I was still going to make a good paycheck. But if I’d had Saul involved, he would’ve caught those, and my paycheck would have been better. They’d taken advantage of Kendal and Tom’s inexperience, and I obviously didn’t know any better.

“The studio has a yacht. I wondered if you wanted to go out on it Sunday. It would give you a chance to have fun and talk a little business,” Janice suggested.

“So, I would need to have Caryn and Saul there?” I asked.

“Yes, and you and they can invite some people to go with you. I’ll have the studio get hold of Caryn and firm it up,” she said.

My phone chirped. Fritz was here.

“Count me in. I’ve gotta run. I want to thank you for everything you did for the movie and me. It looks great,” I said.

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Halle and Caryn had decided to ride with me this morning. On the way to the studio, I told Caryn about what Janice had said and the push from the studio. Caryn said she would call Saul and let him know. She wondered if she could bring her parents since this was our next-to-last weekend in LA. I asked her to find out how many people we each could invite. I had no idea how big this yacht was.

While we fought LA traffic, I called Brook.

“Hey,” I said as hello.

“I was just about to board my plane,” Brook told me. “I had a lot of fun yesterday. Thanks for inviting me.”

“I was wondering if you could stay the weekend,” I said.

“School starts on Monday, and my mom and I are having a girls’ weekend in Chicago. We’re going shopping.”

I groaned because the last person who needed more clothes was Brook Davis, followed closely by Halle James.

“Shut up,” Brook complained. “You forget that I’ve seen your closet.”

That was a cheap shot. Most of my stuff was free. I had a good idea that Brook spent some serious money on her clothes if the bill for her dresses and accessories for the premiere was any indication.

“Free model clothes,” I shot back.

“Whatever helps you sleep nights. You’re still a serious clothes-hound.”

We talked a bit, and her flight was called. Since we were just sitting in traffic, I decided to call Pam. She was crying.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Cora is considering separating from Devin,” she said.

Holy cow! I’d guessed six months. It had only been eight days.

“Why are you crying?” I asked.

“Dad put our house up for sale, and it was shown today,” she said.

“I thought he had to pay for you to be there,” I said as I started to get mad at Cal again.

“He does, but Mom doesn’t want it. She says he picked our house to show off, and she doesn’t want this much house, now that it’s just the two of us.”

“Does she want to move back to LA?” I asked.

“No, she plans to stay here until I graduate.”

“That’s good, right?” I asked.

“I guess, but then Tracy told me she may have to move. When she got home, her dad told her he planned to leave his law firm. He’s interviewing with several firms in Chicago, St. Louis, and one in Indianapolis. I might end up losing my best friend,” she said.

“Something I know for a fact is that Tom Dole would never remove Tracy from her support system. If it does happen, I’ll help Tracy stay if she wants,” I assured her. “So can you stop crying now?”

“David, I’m a girl. I can cry if I want to.”

“Does that mean I can if I want to?” I asked.

“No, you’re a boy. You’re not allowed.”

“I see. Are there other rules for boys that I don’t know about?” I asked.

She’d stopped crying, and I assumed was thinking about her answer.

“I don’t know. Do you have any for me?” Pam asked.

“Okay, let me think. When I say ‘don’t stop,’ don’t stop. I’m serious. That means good things are happening for me.”

I heard a giggle.

“Oh, here’s another one: tell me what you’re thinking. Seriously, I’m not a mind-reader. Just assume I don’t know, and I expect everything will work out better,” I said.

“‘Stupid Boy.’”

“Take a compliment. Nothing is a bigger turnoff than when we’re starting to have fun, and I tell you how sexy you are, and you tell me that you’re fat.”

“David!”

“Hey, you can’t help it,” I teased.

“David!”

“What? It happens when you get pregnant. Own it. Pregnant women should stop complaining about how big their butts are. There is a small percentage of guys who’re into that,” I suggested.

“You are so dead,” Pam warned.

“Hey, you stopped crying,” I observed.

“You’re a dick sometimes,” she huffed.

“I love you too.”

“Yeah, me too. Hurry up and get home. I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” I said and then had to go.

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