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Speak Now or Forever Hold Your Peace
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To my Orlando, Florida friends. I miss you, Disney World, and the beaches. But I don’t miss the cockroaches.
Sunset Harbor is a fictional island set off the west coast of Florida. Each book in the Falling for Summer series is set in this dreamy town and uses crossover characters and events, creating fun connections throughout the series. Be sure to read all seven books so you can fully experience the magic of Sunset Harbor!
Presley
Of all the stupid, idiotic, ridiculous things I’ve ever done, this has to be the worst.
Presley James, you moron.
I laugh to myself as I sit on the plush leather chair of a private jet I hired to get me out of California as quickly and discreetly as possible.
It’s not a real laugh; it’s a what-the-heck-have-you-done kind of laugh. It’s also mixed with some tears because I’m feeling very up and down right now, sort of like Jekyll and Hyde. Only, I’m not as crazed as Hyde. I hope.
Whatever the metaphor, it’s all because of the dumpster fire my life has suddenly become. It’s all my fault, of course. I have no one to blame but myself. I’d like to fault others—and I have. I’ve mentally pointed fingers at every person I can think of, trying to put the responsibility on someone else. But at the end of the day, it all comes back to me. Just me.
“Miss James, can I get you a drink?” asks a woman dressed in a tailored, plum-colored blazer and matching skirt. Her blonde hair is pulled up into a chignon and her lips, currently forming a soft, fake-looking smile, are coated in similarly plum lipstick.
I’ve never met this woman until today, but I’m fairly confident she hates me. I’ve gotten pretty good at reading people, because you have to in this business, and I can tell she’s not at all happy to be here serving me drinks. It’s in the forced smile, the way her eyebrows are pulled down just slightly, and the faint tic in her jaw. She’s probably seen the leaked video and thinks I’m one of those spoiled celebrities, someone who thinks the world revolves around her, rather than the overworked actor who hasn’t had a break in years and was at the end of her rope.
Not that it excuses my actions, but maybe if people knew the truth, they might not be so quick to judge. Somehow, I doubt that. Everyone loves a good fall-from-grace story.
Should I apologize to her? Maybe explain what happened? I haven’t really been able to talk to anyone who would actually listen. All the people I thought were my friends apparently aren’t, and everyone else is paid to be there. That includes my own mother.
No. It would be stupid to offer an apology to the flight attendant. She probably doesn’t want to hear my sob story. Or she does and would sell it to the highest bidder. It’s best to just keep quiet through this five-and-a-half-hour flight. Plus, it’s possible I’ve got it wrong, and she hasn’t seen anything. I could just be projecting. But just in case, I give her my best please-don’t-hate-me smile. It’s toothy, and my cheeks instantly burn with the exaggerated way they are pulling upward.
“Um, yes, please,” I say to her in my sweetest voice. “Some sparkling water would be great.”
With a simple nod, the woman walks toward the galley at the front of the plane and I drop my ridiculous grin.
Maybe I should have ordered something stronger. Something to take the edge off or at least to mask all the crappy feelings I’m having right now. It’s probably not a good idea. I need a clear mind, especially if I’m going to figure out how to get to my destination, which isn’t all that cut-and-dried. There’s the transport from the airport to the ferry and then the ferry to the island, and then once I’m there, I guess I’m supposed to walk to the resort because there aren’t any cars at my intended destination. Or, rather, my escape. I also need to do all of it without being seen or recognized. It will take a miracle.
I didn’t actually have to walk. Noah, an acquaintance of mine and the person who offered me this refuge, said he could pick me up in a golf cart, but I declined. It was the idea of small talk on the way to the resort that had me saying no. The stilted conversation. Having to skirt around the big, bad, terrible thing I had done. At least Noah didn’t think it was horrible enough to take back his offer allowing me to stay at his family resort whenever needed. And boy, do I need it now.
