But that’s not how it happened. It’s not the situation I’m dealing with. Instead, I’ve got all this hurt and anger at the city council and the island that I don’t know what to do with.
The one I’m most worried about in all of this, though, is Beau. His presentation to the city council is in two days. It’s his career in the balance. I might not feel comfortable going in front of the city council after what happened the other day, but I can at least keep my word to him and make the presentation.
Once I leave Grams, I pull out my phone and open my short text thread with Beau.
Gemma
Have you already put together the presentation?
I walk to the golf cart and sit down as his response comes in.
Not yet. I was planning on working on it tonight, but I’m handling something else right now. Should be public knowledge in a few days.
I want to do the presentation. I’ll send it over tomorrow so you have time to prepare what you’ll say.
Gemma, you really don’t have to.
I want to. Good luck with things tonight.
Thank you, GG.
I stare at his text for a second, my heart thrumming, then I type one last text.
You’re welcome.
PS I miss you too.
I workuntil late sorting through footage and flagging the time stamps of the videos I think should be included in the final presentation. It’s honestly all worthwhile. It’ll be tough to narrow it down to something appropriate for a city council meeting.
I check my phone when it hits midnight, but I haven’t heard anything from Beau since myI miss you tootext.
Not a big deal, right? He’s busy. He said so.
I fall asleep with footage of Beau cycling in my brain. I miss him. So much. But I don’t know what to do about it. Beau will never leave this island, but I don’t know that I’m ready to stay here given everything that’s happened. A couple days ago, I think I would have, but the whole city council thing has me second-guessing things. Would it really have killed them to wait until our sale went through to pass their ordinance against short-term housing?
It just feels so…targeted in the way it was handled. Or maybe I’m just being overly sensitive—looking for confirmation, like Beau said. I don’t know. All I know is it hurts.
When I wake in the morning, I’ve still got nothing from Beau.
I try not to think too much of it. I don’t want to make assumptions again, so Isend him a text.
Gemma
Everything go okay last night?
The morning is overcast, and I go on a quick run on the beach. I’ll be sitting a lot today, and I’m feeling antsy. I don’t know what’s happening in any domain of my life. The house sale is up the air, my love life is up in the air, my work life is up in the air. I don’t know where I want to live or what I want to do with myself. I’ve got an interview scheduled with Starlight in a couple days, but if I’m being honest with myself, it’s not that appealing to me anymore. After doing this project with Beau, I think I’d rather do PR for small companies where I can feel more invested and confident in the people and products I’m promoting.
I still haven’t heard from Beau when I get home and showered, so I call. It goes straight to voicemail, and my brain starts acting up.
He blocked your number. You’re too unstable for him. He doesn’t need that kind of volatility in his life.
My heart fights back, though.
I’m sure there’s a perfectly plausible explanation for all of it. Give the man a break.
I keep working on the city council presentation, but I must be more on edge than I realize because when my phone rings, I startle, and it falls to the floor.
It’s not Beau anyway. Just Eugene.
