False Starts

Chapter 16

“I NEED you there, Dunham,” Owen said sternly over the phone. “No excuses. You’re the only one I trust with this photo shoot.” 

      Abbie had him on speaker as she pulled a batch of cupcakes out of the oven, remembering to use two oven mitts this time. “But Franco –“

      “Has been great, but this is Elizabeth Victoria we’re talking about,” Owen went on. “She deserves only the best and you are my best.”

      Abbie sighed picking up her phone and taking Owen off of speaker. “I don’t even work for you anymore, O.”

      “You said you would still do freelance and this is freelance for me,” Owen pointed out. “Besides, technically you still work for me since I haven’t officially accepted your resignation yet.”

      “I ought to report you,” she said, reproachfully, though a part of her was slightly thankful about what Owen just said. 

      “Come on, then, say you’ll do it,” Owen persisted. “And didn’t you say you were heading over to Vegas for Michael’s party anyway? I’ll fly you there, then you can just drive on over to LA for the shoot.”

      Abbie considered the offer. She did tell Michael that she was going to try to come to his retirement party. She had said no to his offer of paying for her ticket; he was already flying Allison out. But here was Owen, offering to fly her to Vegas plus it was a great opportunity. Whether Abbie wanted to admit it or not, she was itching to do a photo shoot, so much so that she had briefly considered accepting a job taking pictures at their neighbour’s son’s bar mitzvah. Owen had called just in time. Elizabeth Victoria was one of the hottest things in Hollywood right now, and Abbie absolutely loved “The Many Lies Told to Alice Walker”. A shoot with her would be a great credit on her portfolio.

      It had also crossed her mind that aside from getting piss-ass drunk, work might help her forget. She realised that it may have been a bad idea to quit her job.

      “You know you want to do this, Abigail,” Owen followed up.

      With a slight laugh, Abbie answered, “You know, one of these days, that’s going to stop working.”

      “I do,” Owen returned, easily. “That’s why I’m going to use it as much as I can while it still does.”

      Again, Abbie laughed. “Fine, I’ll do it,” she conceded. “But I don’t want to make any of the travel arrangements, even for Vegas. You’ll take care of the plane ticket, the rental, the hotel room. I’ll take care of the flight back.”

      There was a pause before Owen answered and Abbie was sure he was rolling his eyes. “Gretchen, miracle-worker that she is, already has you booked on a flight to Vegas, even on Labor Day weekend. She has you at the Palazzo, from Friday to Sunday morning and you will be picked up at the airport by a driver. The manager owes me a favour, so we have everything at half-price.”

      “How sweet, you pretended I had a choice,” Abbie droned, drumming her fingers on the counter as she shook her head.

      Owen snorted, sounding as though he was trying hard not to laugh. “Of course, otherwise I would have just sent you the ticket.”

      “I think what you’re trying to say is, ‘I’m sorry, I assumed you would say yes and that I made the arrangements ahead of time.’”

      “Now, why would I say I’m sorry when I’m not?” Owen asked, his tone bordering on incredulous. “Leo, your favourite PA, will pick you up on Sunday to drive you to Los Angeles and he’ll give you all the info for the shoot.”