Phillip’s office doesn’t have a door. It’s one giant cube of glass, and I’m not sure how he gets anything done in this fish tank. Everything is sharp, clean, and shiny, much like him. When Grace ushers me in, he’s propped against his desk, staring out the window as he talks through the device in his ear. She lightly taps the doorframe, and he jolts upright when he sees me standing there.
“Brad, let me call you back.” He doesn’t wait for a response before he ends the call and rounds the desk. “Holy shit, Landon. I’ve been worried out of my mind.”
He pauses like he wants to hug me, but then shakes my hand the same way he always does. Phillip has worked with me since I was a child, but he never treated me like one. I’ve always respected him for that.
“Where have you been?” He pulls out a chair for me, and I take it. “I was seriously considering sending out a search party.”
“Sorry about that,” I murmur.
Grace stands there awkwardly, probably trying to ask me if I want a drink, but Phillip waves her away without a word. He resumes his position leaning against the desk, this time facing me.
“So?”
“Florida.” I shrug. “I rented a beach house there. Bummed around in the sun for a while. Read a few books. The usual.”
“What happened to your phone?” he asks.
“I tossed the phone. I needed to disconnect for a while.”
“You could have at least told me where you were.” He sounds affronted, but deep down, I know he gets it.
“I didn’t need to hear all the dirty details. I just needed to get away.”
“Well”—he sighs—“that’s the thing. There haven’t been any new stories, which is odd. I was certain that it was just the beginning. I kept waiting for another call requesting more cash, but it never came.”
I expected it too. When I finally typed my name into the search engine last week, I anticipated a flood of articles since I left, but it was just more of the same. When I came here, I was pretty certain Phillip would tell me Kail was demanding more cash. That’s the only thing that would make sense. Now, I don’t know what to think.
“Maybe the media payout was enough.” I intentionally leave out her name. I’ve been trying not to think of her, and talking about her isn’t part of that plan.
“I guess anything’s possible.” Phillip drags his fingers through a thinning patch of hair. “Either way, I’m glad to see you. I had the housekeeper watch your place while you were gone. And I spoke to your principal. He said he’d keep your spot at school until you were ready to come back. But you’ll have some catching up to do.”
“Thanks, Phillip. I appreciate that.”
“Now, I’ve been thinking about how we could spin this absence. We could tell them you’ve been on a mountain in Tibet, enlightening yourself with Buddhist monks. Or a spiritual quest through the Andes. Of course, if you want to keep it simple, there’s always rehab. You know people eat that shit up. We’ve got options.”
My lips tilt at the corners, and I can’t help laughing a little. Same old Phillip. He has my best interest at heart, but I didn’t come here so he could save my reputation, and I think he senses it. That’s why he’s trying so hard.
“I don’t want to do damage control. That’s not why I’m here. I just wanted to talk to you face-to-face because I owe you that much.”
He walks around his desk and collapses onto his desk chair with a long sigh. Opening the bottom drawer, he pulls out a bottle of Crown Royal. “Should I be sober for this?”
“You do you.”
He takes a long pull, twisting the cap back on before he looks at me again. “Okay, hit me with it.”
“I’m done.” I meet his gaze, so he understands this isn’t one of those half-hearted tantrums celebrities often throw when things don’t go their way.
“Done, as in… done until graduation?” he asks hopefully.
I shake my head. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about it. This life, it’s just not for me.”
“I had a feeling it would be option D,” he grumbles. “Fading into obscurity.”
“That would be fine by me.”
He takes another long pull from the bottle and replaces the cap. Phillip wants to believe he won’t drink the poison anymore, but we all do. It’s the nature of the beast.
“You promised me you’d give it the year to think about it,” he reminds me.