When it Rains...

The phone rings as she's about to get on the 101 south. She looks at the photo caller ID and smiles.

"Hi you," she grins into the phone.

"Hey! What are you doing?" he asks.

"Ugh. Driving home from this stupid thing at Paramount," she laments. "It was for work."

"Aw, but you've had a good weekend, no? The race in less than three and a half hours? That's awesome!"

"Yeah yeah yeah. I'm pretty proud of myself," she laughs. "So what's up, what are you doing?"

"Well," he starts carefully. "I'm sitting in my room. Packing my bags. Because I'm coming to LA tomorrow."

She nearly drops the phone while trying to negotiate a lane change. "No, you're kidding," she laughs in disbelief, since in their last conversation him coming to town wasn't an option.

"Nope. I get in tomorrow morning. Work's got me out there."

Dammit, she thinks. The universe is fucking with me.

"So, I'm going to be all over the place, but I want to make sure we get some you and me time. Maybe Thursday night?" he continues.

"Shit," she spits out, the self-imposed hurricane of craziness weighing heavily on her. "I've got 2 shoots that night. And then I'm in San Francisco this weekend."

"Huh...Well, okay. We'll work it out."

They spend the next few minutes figuring out how.

"Okay sweetie, drive safely. It was good to hear your voice."

"You too, honey. Travel safe."

She hangs up knowing that if that boy is around, she suddenly has all the free time in the world.