Page 50 of Total Obsession

"Why aren't you here? Matt," that was the show's director, "is about to commit murder."

"What do you mean?" I asked her. "There's no filming for the rest of this week," I said, repeating the words that Axe had said to me, sitting up in bed because I was suddenly not able to sit still.

"Who the heck told you that?" Miranda scoffed. "You think Matt would ever take a week off? Even for Thanksgiving? You're crazy. They're about to start read-throughs and everyone's asking me where you are. Like I'm your babysitter or something."

"Oh my God," I exclaimed, completely panicked. My breathing was picking up, and I could feel my impending panic attack.

"Just get here. You live close. Say you were sick or something or you overslept your alarm," Miranda said.

"I'm in Florida," I admitted to her.

"What? Why?"

"I don't even know myself," I all but cried to her.

"Well, get your ass on a plane pronto. I'll cover for you."

"What are you going to tell them?" I asked her.

"I'm going to tell them that you just called, and you're violently ill today with food poisoning. That it's coming out of both ends. I'm going to be really graphic about it so they don't ask any more questions. And you're going to get yourself on a fucking plane and get back up to New York so that you can be here ON TIME tomorrow," she chastised me.

"Yes. Okay. Thank you. So much," I said, jumping out of bed and grabbing whatever clothes I could find and throwing them on. "I owe you one big time."

"Yes, you do," she said before hanging up the phone.

Within a few minutes, I was standing by the door, frantically waiting for my Uber driver to arrive. I didn't know whether to be angry, confused, or sad about the situation. Axe told me that he'd spoken to the show's producer and that things had been put on hold for the rest of the week because of the upcoming holiday.

Had he lied to me?

Had there been some sort of misunderstanding?

I really didn't want to believe that he would have lied to me, but I was having trouble understanding how this could possibly be a misunderstanding. He was putting my entire career in jeopardy. I couldn't understand why he would want to do something like that.

It also didn't seem like something he would do.

Or, did I just not want to believe it?

As the car arrived and I climbed in, I started to think about how well I really knew Axe. All the thoughts and doubts that I'd had last night started to resurface. He hadn't answered any of my questions about his job. Those phone calls seemed rather intense. Something about Cubans? That didn't seem like a normal thing for someone to say.

Unless it was a company name?

Was he investing in the tobacco industry or something and he was talking about cigars?

But then how did he have connections to the fashion industry? How did he know executives at my studio?

Was it all just made up?

My mind swirled with so many questions that the Uber driver was basically yelling "Miss," at me before I even realized what he was saying.

"I'm so sorry, yes?"

"We're here!" he said, completely exasperated.

"Oh!" I said, looking out the window in surprise at the Miami airport.

"What airline are you flying?" he asked me.

"Any one I can get," I said, opening the car door and all but running into the terminal.