Page 23 of Out on a Limb

“Time flies,” Walker said. “You better savor your last days here.”

“Ugh, no. I hate protracted goodbyes. Everyone’s so scared about the future, but I can’t wait.”

“That’s right. Hollywood awaits,” Walker said with a tinge of melancholy.

Cameron took a few steps closer to Walker. Every muscle in Walker’s body was on high alert, ready to move closer. The warm, yellow light gave this moment a glow of instant nostalgia.

“Thanks for taking me here,” Cameron said.

Walker nodded and felt something in his pants. He pulled out his buzzing phone. “Hi, Patricia.”

“Walker, where are you? We’re supposed to have a meeting to discuss Radiance’s social media strategy. It’s 2:30.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I’ll be right over. I had a long lunch, catching up with an old friend.”

“Walker, I don’t need to remind you we are in review. Please be more cognizant of your schedule. I’ll see you back at the office.”

Walker slipped his phone back into his pocket. Cameron was browsing through old albums.

“Busted?” he asked.

“Busted.” More than busted, Walker thought. Patricia threw a bucket of ice water at him.

They left Waring Library, retreated down the Time Machine hallway, and were back in the cold, modern furnishings of the main library.

Cameron went through the revolving door. Walker followed quickly after him.

“Back to the grind,” Walker said with a shrug.

“Back to the homework grind for me.”

“You’re still doing homework? I commend you.”

“I consider watching movies homework. It’s research.”

They shared an awkward laugh, but before Walker could launch into his goodbye, Cameron beat him to the punch.

“Maybe we should exchange numbers,” Cameron said. “Just in case you feel like playing hooky again.”

And so they did. And when Walker returned to the office, he met with Patricia and dutifully discussed Radiance’s social media strategy, all with a dopey smile on his face.

CHAPTER nine

Cameron

Cameron paced back and forth in his bedroom, phone glued to his ear. He took deep steps from one corner to the other, even dipping into his closet. His phone never left his ear.

“That all sounds great,” he said.

“It’s a pretty decent place, considering we’re paying under three-thousand a month in Santa Monica,” Porter said. “The building owner is this old Swedish guy, and I think my Swede cred got us the place.”

“That’s awesome.”

“You’ll have to share a bathroom with Grayson. Do you remember Grayson? He was my year.”

“Yeah. The name is familiar.” Cameron had no recollection of either Porter or Grayson. They were background players in his Browerton life, apparently. But they had a spare room in Los Angeles at a good price, so of course he remembered them vividly.

“So you’re in?” Porter asked.