She heard Travis make a rumbling noise next to her, kind of like a bull clearing this throat. She darted a quick glance at his face. The vein was going into throbbing overdrive now and his dark eyes looked almost black.
Not a good sign. Defuse, Celeste! Defuse!
She reached down deep and pulled up the most plastic Pinyon customer service smile she could muster, the one born of ten solid years dealing with difficult guests.
“Yeah, the festival’s going to be great,” she said smoothly.
No one would ever have guessed her hands were shaking worse than a heroin addict’s. “We’re lucky to have your parents sponsoring it. They’re amazing.”
Travis let out another bull rumble. Celeste switched into high gear.
“Okay! Well, we’re heading out, so see you later, Nick.” She turned and grabbed Travis with the intention of shoving him toward the door with all the strength in her body.
“I’m mostly glad because I want you to help me plan my screening party for the festival,” Nick said smoothly.
Celeste stopped and turned around again slowly.
There was a moment of dead silence. “Ah, what do you mean, your party?” Celeste asked carefully.
“You know, for my film.” Nick stuffed his hands in his pockets and blinked innocently.
Travis spoke for the first time. “What are you talking about?” His gruff voice was decidedly confrontational.
Celeste winced. But Nick acted like Travis had just asked him to hang out sometime.
“I took this elective film studies course at UCLA last winter and the final project was making our own short films—writing, directing, editing, everything. My dad told me I could throw a screening party during the festival.
But I’ve got to do all the organizing and planning myself, and you know, I’m not very good at that stuff.
That’s why I’m really looking forward to us working together, Celeste.” He fixed his gaze on her again as if she were the only person in the room and gave her a small smile. The rumbling bull that was her boyfriend took a step forward. Oh crap.
Celeste narrowed her eyes. “Whatever, Nick. Ob-
viously, someone in guest relations will assist you with your planning.” She tried to make her voice as frosty as possible.
“Good,” Nick replied, apparently unfazed. “I’ll definitely need help— your help.” He offered them a relaxed grin. “Excuse me.” Celeste stepped aside as he brushed past, but he still managed to rub right up against her, his arm trailing against the small of her back. Suddenly, Travis let out a growl and lunged for Nick.
“Travis!” Celeste dove for his arm and hung on to it with all her body weight. Nick was casually ambling away down the aisle like nothing had happened. She clung to Travis’s arm and gazed up at his face. He was breathing like a diesel truck and his whole face was bright red, except for the edges of his nostrils, which were white. He looked down at her and took a deep breath. She leaned up against him. “You want to come for a walk? I need some air.”
He nodded, and together they made their way
through the emptying room and pushed out the door into the cool desert night. The quiet grounds were full of dark shadows, and their feet left silvery footprints in the cool, dewy grass. A half-moon floated in the black sky overhead.
Travis took Celeste’s hand and swung it back and forth as they walked. His good humor seemed to have been restored now that he was removed from Nick’s presence.
“Must be nice to get your own screening party just because your rich dad is throwing a film festival, huh?”
he said.
“Yeah,” Celeste agreed. To herself, she thought about what might be possible if she had some big-time New York editor father. Forget writing workshops in the Berkshires.
She’d be straight on to an internship at Harper’s. Goodbye family business, goodbye towel-folding, hello real job.
“You know,” she said slowly. “I wouldn’t even know what to do with myself, working someplace other than here. I’ve never even had a real job.” She’d never actually said that out loud before.
“Hmmm?” Travis was watching a couple splashing in the pool as they passed. “What did you say?”
“Nothing.”
Travis looked down at her. “No, really, what did you say?”
She took a deep breath. “I said that I’ve lived in this Pinyon bubble, like, my whole life. What’s going to happen to me when I finally escape?”
Travis looked confused. He shook his head. “I don’t get it. What do you mean, what’s going to happen?
You’ll just leave, like everyone else.”
Celeste shook her head. “No, you don’t get it—”
Travis interrupted her by sliding an arm around her waist and pulling her close. He bent his head down to hers, but she drew away.
“What?” he said.
“Someone could come by,” she whispered, gesturing around them. As if on cue, a man in a suit with the tie pulled down came around the corner and glanced at them curiously before disappearing into the lounge. A burst of voices and music floated out to them as he opened the door.
Travis looked impatient. “Well, then let’s go hang out on the golf course. No one’s going to be out there at ten o’clock.”
“Okay,” Celeste started to agree, and then an idea hit her. “Hey, you want to see my secret spot?”
Travis shrugged. “Sure.”
Together, they tramped over the manicured grass of the golf course, past a pond and a sand trap until they reached the other side, where the desert plants still grew wild and tangled. She glanced around once and, seeing no one, bent down and pushed through a huge stand of prickly bushes.
“Hey!” Travis whispered. “I can’t get in there.”
“No, you can,” Celeste answered. “It’s not as thick as it looks.” She held the branches apart and peered through the opening at Travis. “Come on!”
He looked doubtful but bent down and climbed
through, trying not to get snagged on the twigs. Once inside, he looked
