When she isn’t in the spa, I make my way to Joe’s office and knock lightly on the door. Three little knocks. See? I’m fine. It’s all going to befine. I walk in on my third knock and find Mercer, Sunny, and Sarah sitting around Joe’s desk. He’s leaning back in his chair, his arms folded over his chest and his hair disheveled like it's been a morning. Together the four of them look like my personal Avengers. My heart rate slows instantly.
Mercer is slouched halfway down her chair still dressed for the morning hike, with a large styrofoam soda cup propped on her nonexistent stomach. “Dude.” That one word speaks volumes. I know that the arrival of my mother and her team has caused no small amount of upheaval in every department at the resort. My mother has a way of getting what she wants that can leave a person feeling like they got sucked into an industrial vacuum and shot back out.
Sunny’s hair is twisted into a haphazard bun held in place with a pencil, and her dark eyes are wide behind a pair of glasses. "I don't know what happened. They told me to get you here."
“I know.” There are no more chairs, so I sit on the corner of the desk. “I know how my mother can be, and I didn’t know they were coming. I didn’t even tell them I was here. I’m sorry for whatever just happened.”
Sarah swings her long braid behind her as she sits up straighter. “This is a good thing, honey. It means more exposure for the resort. We’re working things out. We can move guests around and fit everyone in. Don’t worry about us or apologize for bringing in business.” Her eyes scan my face, “But I’m worried about you. You seem upset.”
“I’m fine. You know how it is at the end of a vacation. It’s like the Sunday Scaries, but worse. It’s the Real Life Scaries.” My smile is shaky, and I can feel their eyes on me. They’re quiet. Sunny frowns, Mercer sips her soda, and Joe has that crease between his eyes. I know they’re waiting for me to elaborate. I take a deep breath. “It’s fine. It’s my job. I’ve got this.”
“What about the… thing?” Sunny is hesitant to ask. I know what she means. The photo. I appreciate her hesitation to ask about it, or even say the word.
Mercer isn’t so merciful. “Yeah, I thought that picture was supposed to destroy your career or whatever.” Joe shoots her a glare, but she plows ahead. “What? I overheard a few guests talking about it on a hike so I looked it up. Wowza.” Her face says she definitely saw it all.
I don't love the news that guests have been talking about me. No one has said anything to my face or even indicated that they recognized me. I fill my friends in on my mother’s update, starting with the viral rollercoaster that is my online presence, and ending with the part where the resort will be hosting a photo shoot for a major clothing line next week. They are well aware of this fact, but the stress of the day is making me a motormouth. “So, the brand wants me back. I get to wear their clothes and be pretty again. Everyone will love me. It will be great.” My mild sarcasm isn’t lost on this group.
Joe is the first to speak up. “Don’t do it.” His jaw is tight and his eyes bore into mine.
“What?”
He straightens. “You don’t have to do any of this.”
“It’s not that simple. This is my job. This is how I pay my bills. It’s actually how a team of people pay their bills. They all rely on me.” I don’t mention that I don’t have a back up plan except for a degree that I’ve never used. My resume is one sentence long. Am I about to hyperventilate? Maybe. “Taking a vacation is one thing, but if I walk away from this, especially after screwing up so royally with that picture…”
He’s angry now. “You didn’t screw up. Your privacy was stolen in a pretty disturbing way—”
Sunny pipes up, “I think what my big oaf of an older brother is trying to say is that we’re here for you. If you want to go ahead with this photo shoot and product launch, we’ll help you. We’ve already made the arrangements here. But if you want us to shut this down so you can finish your vacation, we can make that happen.”
“But I can’t. My mother locks onto things like a missile. I’m honestly surprised it took her so long to find me here. And I can’t do that to her team, anyway. And it might bring in so much business for you guys.” Knowing that this little group of new friends have my back is doing something for those tiny pinholes in my lungs, though. I can breathe. I’ll get through this week with my mother and the people from Skinnybee. This will be good. “Thank you for being here for me.” I look around at each of their faces—a mixture of smiles and concern, and sexiness on Joe’s part—and realize I will be okay. “Are you guys ready for Kara and Indigo Fox to take over your world?”
Chapter 11
“This will do.”
This comes from my mother, after walking the perimeter of her suite at the resort. It’s full of handmade teak furniture, and the two separate bedrooms have pillowy beds all covered in white linens. Huge windows with sheer, white curtains line the walls. The view of the canyon is postcard perfect. Spanish tile flooring is covered with plush rugs that I want to sink my toes into. Of course my mother is blasé about the living situation. She hasn’t been sleeping in a van for a week.
Her phone rings and she swipes to answer it, putting the call on speaker. She holds up a finger at us in the universal sign of “This call is more important than what we were doing, give me a minute, peasants” as she moves out onto the patio, where the afternoon light is starting to fade into dusk.
“This is gorgeous,” I say with a smile to Sarah. She has been rolling out the red carpet for my mother, whose reactions have been embarrassingly lukewarm.
“Thank you. We have made every effort to create spaces that are as calming and peaceful as can be.” Her face is as serene as her soft voice. Meanwhile, my mother is giving her caller a dressing down onthe patio. The French doors are not as soundproof as she must think. We share conspiratorial smiles. “I hope your mother likes the bed situation. I’m somewhat proud of them. I searched high and low for the softest sheets and blankets I could find, plus Joe handmade each of the bed frames himself. No two are exactly alike in the entire resort.”
My eyes wander to the bedroom to get a better look. The four poster bed is intricately carved and stained dark. It’s a perfect contrast with the simple, white bedding. I want to dive in, actually. “Is there anything he doesn’t do?” I’m joking, but even I can hear the twitterpation in my voice.
“I guess you’ve never heard him sing. It’s atrocious.”
“That makes both of us.” Yes, I have a habit of singing Billy Joel when I’m angry. It has done nothing to improve the quality of my singing. I suspect the scorpion that stung me had heard quite enough and was only making his opinion known.
“Don’t let Mercer find out about that. She’ll drag you to one of her karaoke nights.”
That makes me laugh. “I’ll steer clear.”
My mother re-enters with a flourish of breezy curtains and a whiff of her strong perfume. “Ugh. Mobilizing a production team at the last minute is no easy business. We have so much work to do, Indigo. You need to grab your things and settle in so we can hit the ground running in the morning.” She sighs, long and dramatic. She is loving this. “Thank you for the tour,” she says to Sarah with a clear but unspoken, “You can leave now.”
I don’t want Sarah to leave. She feels like a life preserver. I know that I can only say what needs to be said with her standing next to me, and the very real feeling that I’ll drown in a sea of designer clothing and health food without her gives me courage. I clear my throat and say to my mother, “I’ll be around and part of things, butI’m actually going to keep camping for now.” This is our way. Subtle negotiation.
“Nonsense. We need all hands on deck, and can’t have you looking like you woke up in the bushes.” Her hand flutters up and down in my general direction, indicating that I am queen of the bush people. “Go get your things and meet me back heretout de suite,” she finishes in a syrupy tone.
