“I know. I should’ve talked to you, Avery, please. I’m so sorry.” She tents her hands over her face.
“It’s good you didn’t, though.”
Her brows quirk upward. “What?”
“I needed this to happen, to see what you really are. I’ve made so many excuses for you for so long. But I can’t excuse this.”
She hangs her head again. If she had hope for forgiveness, she must know that’s gone now.
“You know what the shitty part is?”
She won’t meet my eyes. Instead, she shrivels in her seat and merely shrugs.
“I want to tell you that you’re a slutty, conniving bitch. I want to hate you so much, but I’m just sad. That’s what happens when you really love someone, Palmer. They have the power to cut you to the core.” My voice grows cold once more, and the tears I’ve held back for so long, from hating myself in pictures, from all the crushes that picked Palmer, from getting dumped, from all the mean girls who hated seeing me with Finn, from the feelings of inadequacy as a woman…
I let them flow…
So I can finally let them go.
Because now I know the source of all this insecurity in my heart. It was because I wasn’t just ignoring the red flags. I was wrapped in the warning flag for twenty goddamn years in the form of my best friend.
“Getting dumped by Mason with a fucking ring on my hand is laughable compared to how I feel right now. Why? Why did you do this? I was such a good friend to you.”
“I know,” she whispers. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Agreed.” For the first time ever, I change the narrative. “And you no longer have me.”
“Aves, please forgive—”
“No. Don’t even ask. This is unforgivable, Palmer.” I brush at my tears, but it’s useless. We’re both openly sobbing and have attracted the attention of every single person in the room. I rise in my chair, my keys still clutched in my fist. “But I’m going to be okay because once I cut the dead weight, I’m going to feel free and happy. For you, however, I hope the anchor of shame, guilt, and loneliness drags you to the bottom of the ocean so you can drown in how pathetic you are.”
She mumbles something into her hands, but it’s incomprehensible through her open bawling.
“I never want to see you or hear from you again. From now on, figure out your own shit. Starting with your own way back home.”
With that, I rise and head through the sliding doors of the hotel. I find my Jeep and unlock the trunk. I’m immediately annoyed that the smell of Palmer’s perfume has saturated it, and I get a giant whiff of betrayal as the trunk door lifts. No matter. I’ll roll the windows down going seventy on the highway and the stench will eventually dissipate.
I yank Palmer’s luggage that we loaded this morning out of the trunk and place it on the curb. Without another moment of hesitation, I start the engine and peel out of the parking lot.
I drive away…
Changed.
No more pacifying. No more placating. No more Band-Aids for bullet wounds.
I’m ready for a true fresh start.
38
Avery
About two exits shy of the airport, I remember a conversation I had with Dr. Ruth Donovon. After her big win with consulting for Royalty Airlines, they of course offered her a board advisory position. Dr. Donovon has done very well for herself, but she could’ve owned the entire block she lives on in Key Largo if she wanted to. What stopped her?
When I was debating switching my major from science to business and was scared to lose all the credit hours, she told me to reverse dissect my life. Don’t think about my goals and what it takes to get there. She told me to picture my day-to-day life and think about what I wanted to fill my moments with. Dr. Donovon told me to let happiness build my goals. She loved to teach…so that’s what she continued to do until retirement.
When I think about what makes me happy in my day-to-day, I think about Dex and his scuba diving company. I remember all the random fish facts I know—even before this summer and my obsessive deep dive into Cherry Barbs—all because of Dex’s enthusiasm.
I think about Finn’s photography business and how nervous he is to take risks. How he needs me to hold his hand through some of the riskier aspects of small business ownership. He’s such a manly man, it’s quite endearing to see him nervous about something. He has a gap that I can actually help fill, and it feeds my soul.
I never strived to be rich. Endless travel and luxury resorts are not what I’m picturing for my life. I want relationships…real friendships… I want to try new things, to learn new facts, and I want to be as immersed and passionate about my projects as Dex is about scuba diving and as Finn is about boudoir photography.
I no longer need Palmer to talk me out of a sound decision, and I certainly am not going to consult with Mason about anything, so I pull off shy of the exit and pull into a Walmart.
After purchasing a prepaid phone, two blueberry Red Bulls and enough Chex Mix, protein drinks, powdered donuts and waters to fuel a ten-hour drive back to Las Vegas, I make a difficult call to leave a complicated voicemail.
“Hello, this is Hunter.”
Shit. “Oh, hi!” I shoot up in the driver’s seat and brush the powdered sugar off my shirt like he can see me through the phone. “Mr. Mahan, it’s Avery Scott.”
“Avery. Hi. We’ve been trying to call you—”
“I’m so sorry. I lost my phone back at home.” I pause…home. It just flowed right out of me. Home is Las Vegas. Home is now Finn. “May I ask why you’re answering an unknown number?”
“Good timing, I guess,” he says through a half-laugh. “I’m actually getting ready to board my flight as well. I’m assuming Mason told you the meeting got bumped up? Did you get everything squared away with travel? Is there anything you need in the meeting room for tomorrow?”
I let out an exaggerated exhale. “Mr. Mahan—”
“Hunter, please. Oh shit…you’re not coming, are you?”
“No. I’m not.”
“Fuck. Sorry, that was unprofessional, but…fuck. We’re screwed, aren’t we? Even you think we should dissolve?”
“No.” I make sure I’m as emphatic as possible, then I clear my throat. “Hunter, do not dissolve Legacy Resorts or any of its subsidiaries, please. The company is in fantastic shape, and you guys have the potential to blow your competition out of the water.”
“Great. Fly to Cancun and tell that to the board, please.”
I laugh. “Listen, you have a board member, Wallace Frank—”
“Yeah, Mr. Frank is our most senior advisor.”
“He’s a snake in the garden, my friend. I did some digging, and he just invested over sixteen million dollars into Legacy’s biggest competitor. He’s not rallying the board members to do what’s best for the company…he’s bought and paid for, Hunter.”
“You’re shitting me.”
“No, I’m not. This is as close to insider trading as you can get, so you could go to the authorities, or you could invite Mr. Frank to remove himself from the board in exchange for your oversight of the matter. Then you need a few little tweaks to your branding strategy.”