“But Cal said it was okay.”
Alana shoots him a look. “Did he now?”
He lifts his hands in the air. “You try saying no to her when she does that thing.”
As if on command, the girl pops out her bottom lip and wobbles it, making me laugh.
Alana spares me a halfhearted glare. “Don’t encourage her.”
“He’s right. I wouldn’t stand a chance at saying no to that kid.”
“When you have a kid, you’ll understand.”
My smile slips as a cold feeling of dread takes over. “I’m sure I will,” I manage to say despite the invisible rope wrapped around my throat.
Alana’s expression quickly morphs into one I recognize all too well. “Is everything okay?”
Julian’s head snaps in my direction.
I plaster on the same fake smile I wore while filming the entire last season of my show. “Yup. All good.”
My phone vibrates in my back pocket. I pull it out and read the name before facing Julian. “Hey. Do you mind watching the booth for a second?”
Julian’s brows scrunch together. “Everything fine?”
That’s the third time he’s asked me the same question in the last hour, and while my answer hasn’t changed, his concern has.
“Hope so. Be right back.” I throw him one last wave over my shoulder before taking off down a row of booths.
I don’t answer Jamie’s call until I’m out of sight and earshot of any festival attendees or volunteers.
“Hey!” Though Jamie and I haven’t worked together long, whenever she hits that high pitch, I know something is up.
“Hi.”
“So…” she says. “I swear I wouldn’t have called you unless I thought this was important.”
“Oh? Is everything all right?”
She pauses for the longest three seconds of my life. “No.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Oliver was caught outside of a club in Vegas by paparazzi last night.”
“Okay.” Acid climbs up my throat.
“I think the whole thing was staged.”
“What was?”
“I don’t know how to say this.”
I feel like I swallowed a rock. “What’s going on?”
“He eloped.”
“I’m sorry. Who eloped?”
“Oliver.”
I squeeze my eyes shut as I’m hit with a dizzy spell.
“I’m sorry, Dahlia. I wish I didn’t have to be the one to break the news to you, but I thought you deserved to hear it from someone in your corner.”
My breaths come out in short bursts. The tingling in my left arm has me debating whether I’m going into cardiac arrest or suffering from another panic attack.
Jamie shuffles some papers on the other side of the phone. “According to the article in the Golden Gate Gazette, he was reunited with his high school sweetheart during a family trip to the Swiss Alps a couple of weeks ago.”
“Olivia Carmichael?” I’m surprised I can manage a single word.
“Yes, but—”
I stop hearing her. It’s an impossible task anyway with the way my ears ring.
Oliver’s mother wouldn’t shut up about how Olivia was the one who got away. With the way the Creswells spoke of the Carmichaels’ daughter’s perfect pedigree, one would assume the family was breeding horses rather than people.
I bet she can give him the perfect kids he and his mother want.
Rage quickly replaces the shock. My emotions rise to the surface, more chaotic and dangerous than a riptide.
Surprisingly, I’m not upset with Oliver.
I’m angry at myself.
“Thanks for the update, Jamie,” I say despite the tightness in my throat.
“I’ve already got my people on the phone managing PR. There are many fans rallying behind you on social media.”
“That’s good.”
Her long pause reminds me of a death knell. “But because of everything going on in the media…”
The pounding in my ears can’t drown out her next sentence.
“The network is pulling out. They don’t want to get involved in all this drama.”
“But…” My voice cracks.
“I’m so sorry. I tried my hardest to save the deal, but they thought it was best for you to pursue other options.”
“Of course. I totally understand.” I try to keep my tone light.
“Give me time to find the perfect home for your show.”
“Right.”
“I mean it, Dahlia. You’re talented, and once the dust settles, people will be begging to work with you.”
I appreciate her vote of confidence, but the catastrophizer in me is questioning if anyone in the industry will touch me with a ten-foot mic pole after all this drama.
This is your anxiety talking. I try to reason with myself.
Is it, or am I being realistic after losing the deal because of Oliver?
“I’ve got to go.” I hang up the call and walk away from the festival. Almost all the businesses in town are closed except for one.
Last Call.
Making a choice between crying my eyes out or heading to the bar is a no-brainer, although I’m sure I’ll regret my decision later.
You’re not supposed to numb your depression with alcohol.
Tomorrow, I plan on confronting my feelings, but today, I need a break. Plus, a few drinks won’t send me into a downward spiral.
Or so I hope.
The smell of stale beer makes my nose twitch, but I ignore it as I drop onto a stool across from the bar owner. “Hey, Henry.”
“Dahlia? What are you doing here?”
“Getting a drink.”
His brows scrunch together. “Are you okay?”
“I will be once you pour me a shot of tequila.” I reach for my purse, only to remember I left it back at the booth. “Shit. I forgot my purse.”
“I got you.” A guy from across the bar lifts his glass of brown liquor in my direction.
I frown. “And who are you?”
“Depends on who is asking.”
I look around the empty dive bar.
His lips twitch. “Lorenzo. You?”
“Someone who isn’t interested in talking.”
Henry snorts as he grabs an empty shot glass and fills it up to the top with tequila. “It’s on the house.”
“I’ll come back and pay you tomorrow.”
“I know you’re good for it.”
I reach for the glass and knock it back. The alcohol blazes a burning trail down my throat, helping with the anger.
My phone vibrates throughout the next hour from incoming texts from Julian.
SECOND BEST
Where did you go?
SECOND BEST
Is everything okay?
SECOND BEST
Stop screwing around and answer me.
His last text makes my entire chest ache.
SECOND BEST
Tell me what’s wrong and I’ll fix it.
I’m afraid not even Julian, the ultimate fixer, can repair the damage that’s been done to my career, self-esteem, and confidence.
But look at all the progress you’ve made.
Sure, I’ve improved somewhat thanks to therapy, meds, and taking on a new project with Julian, but the darkness is creeping back in, threatening to destroy all my hard work.