SLEAZE: A Hollywood Comeback Story (Book #1)

Chapter 17

After spending the entirety of my flight cramped between a morbidly obese man and a woman nursing a colicky baby, I got a sadistic satisfaction from stepping outside Logan Airport and seeing the look of horror that filled Sophie’s face. Snow piled high alongside the walkways and Sophie’s teeth chattered with such an intense fervor that I almost expected them to chip. Sophie kept her head down as she dragged her two suitcases behind her, pausing every now and then to clear the wheels of her bags when they filled with powder. Even though she was wearing every jacket and sweater that she’d found in her luggage, her eyes were watery, her nose was running, and her lips were so chapped and pale that she looked like Casper the frostbitten ghost.

In my parka, I knew that I looked a bit like the Michelin Man but I smiled and stretched my arms above my head nonetheless. “How do you like Boston so far, Soph?” I asked and she gave me a venomous look, her eyelashes dotted with frozen flakes.

“Screw you,” Sophie said between violent chatters. I saw that the area around her cuticles had turned blue as she breathed on her fingers in a pitiful attempt to warm them. “I hate this.”

“I told you what you brought wouldn’t cut it.”

“I think I’m dying.” A shiver wracked her body and a wave of guilt stopped me from holding out on her any longer. I was still annoyed with her for abandoning me in the airport, but that didn’t mean I wanted her to die from hypothermia either. I had to admit that my resolve of letting her suffer had been pretty short lived.

“I figured you would,” I said, pulling the sweater that I’d bought for her from my carry-on. She snatched it from my hands greedily, wriggling it over her head with stiffness in her movements. Once on, I couldn’t help but think that she was probably the only person I’d ever met who could pull off the tacky, rainbow-colored City of Angels logo that was printed across her chest. Even the palm trees and surfboards that made up the letters didn’t look as bad when she wore them.

“Oh my God, I love you,” she said, wrapping her arms around her own torso in a protective embrace.

I laughed, tugging my beanie lower over my ears. It wasn’t quite a ‘thank you’, but I’d take it. “You’re welcome.”

“Is your mom here yet?” she asked, her voice an anxious whine as she smoothed down the strands of her hair that had been tussled by the wind.

“Should be soon, she was about six miles out when I called her.”

Sophie grumbled something under her breath and moved to the curb with her lip jutted out. Between her oversized sweatshirt and petulant posture, she reminded me of a little kid. I sidled closer to her as I watched the cars pass by.

I’d been staring at the large man from the plane as he wheezed and wiggled his way into the backseat of a taxi when my mom’s Cadillac drove up with a honk. As she jumped out of the car and hurried towards me with a smile that stretched from ear to ear, I couldn’t help but grin back. “Hey, Mom,” I said as she pulled me into a tight hug, the top of her head nearly a foot below my chin. I always forgot how tiny she was during the months of the year that I didn’t see her.

“How was your flight?” she asked as she reached up to brush snow from my shoulders. Mom’s grey eyes seemed to dance as she studied my face and I didn’t stop her when she drew me in for a second hug.

“Standard,” I replied. “I slept for some of it.”

“Have you been eating?”

"What are you saying, I look thin?” I asked, feigning offense.

“You’ve always been a bit thin, Parker,” Mom said, patting my arm. “That’s why I worry.”

“Well, don’t. I’ve been getting about five hundred servings of quinoa and kale a week,” I replied and Sophie giggled.