“Wow. Arrogant, much?” He’s not wrong, though I can’t admit it now. I don’t want to examine this. I can’t acknowledge that there’s a spark of truth to what he’s saying. It’s easier to get angry. “You want me to stand up for myself? I’ll do that.” I literally stand up, scraping my chair across the deck so fast that it tips backward again.These people need to get better chairs!I’m crying so hard his handsome face is blurry. That makes this next part easier: “I’ll decide what makes me happy, and you can stay out of it.” I run down the steps with Joe’s words echoing in my mind:
None of it is real.
Chapter 14
“We need to shoot in the spa. This shouldn’t be so difficult.” My mother’s voice carries through the foyer of the resort like a fighter jet doing a flyby.
I’m too tired for this. I think I’m hooked on cherry Coke thanks to Mercer, and I didn’t have time to stop at the gas station this morning. She and Sunny had vacated The Hulk by the time I was done fighting with Joe, so I made it to Nizhóní just in time to shower before the spa opened. We did a sunrise shoot by the pool and now my mother is trying to talk her way into the spa. Poor Sunny looks like she’s near tears explaining to The Kara Fox that there is no place for cameras in the full, busy spa. Besides that, the rest of the guests don’t appreciate having their privacy invaded when they’re trying to get their massage on. I know my mother gets it, but she also wants what she wants. And what she wants is to have a photoshoot in natural light before our lunch meeting with Skinnybee, because heaven forbid we have downtime.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Fox. The spa will be available to you this evening after services have ended. You and your team will have full access at that time.” Sunny is too kind and too patient as my mother continues to grill her.
Meanwhile, I’m sitting on one of the fluffy white couches in the foyer, picking at my nails. Not because I’m lazy, but because I’m wearing hot pink Skinnybee athletic wear from head to toe. You would think workout clothes would allow for movement, right? Instead, I have to sit a certain way or the sports bra-style top slides down and exposes me. The straps have no give. And even though the compression leggings give my booty a nice lift, they are so tight I feel like a statue from the waist down. So, I’m held in place on this couch by blinding, weapons-grade spandex. I can actually see the glare of this fluorescent material bouncing off the white couch. And all I can physically do is pick my nails while I await my mother’s next orders.
“The light will be all wrong tonight. Listen, this photoshoot benefits you as much as it does us. We’re doing you a huge favor here. I get that you’re following the rules, but I need someone who can think outside the box." She sighs. "Is there a manager I can speak with? Or anyone who knows how to run a business?”
“Mom!” I shout across the foyer before I realize what I’m doing. It echoes down the tiled hall. “You’re being rude,” I hiss.
My mother’s eyes go wide.
Sunny is blushing furiously, and her eyes are bright with unshed tears as they flash my way. “Why don’t I call the owner of the resort in?”
“Perfect,” my mother says with a satisfied smile. She feels a win coming.
She drums her long nails on the counter while Sunny makes the phone call. “Stop picking at your nails, Indigo.” Her eyes flit over me from head to toe, “I still disagree with that shade of pink. It’s not your season.”
Sunny’s eyes shoot to me as she hangs up the phone.
My mother in a nutshell: Disagreeing with a shade of pink. It certainly isn’t “my season” with my red hair and pale, freckled skin. I’m an autumn. She had voiced that opinion when we were shootingby the pool. I chose the pink set because it made me happy. It’s fun.And I decide what makes me happy.The Skinnybee people liked the contrast with the turquoise water, so I won that round. I might look like a corpse in those shots, but hopefully someone will work some Photoshop magic to assure the world that I am not undead.
I shrug in response, then I have to adjust my bra top right away so nothing falls out the bottom.Ugh.
“What can I help you with, Ms. Fox?”
Joe. My heart squeezes when I hear his cool voice. He doesn’t look in my direction, although I know I’m hard to miss in this getup. All I want is to run to him and apologize for this morning, but he’s at work, and my mother is standing right there, tapping her nails on the counter.
My mom’s hand flutters to her chest, “Call me Kara. And you are?”
Why is she batting her eyelashes at him? Gross, Mom!I mean, I get it. Butgross.
“I’m Joe Pratt, the owner of Nizhóní.” He shakes her hand, and when he lets go she drops her hand on his forearm, inches from his rolled up shirtsleeves.
My eyes go wide.What am I witnessing?!Whatever it is, it’s making me queasy. It doesn’t help that all I’ve eaten today is the clean pressed juice my mom gave me to help me debloat and detox. My nail picking intensifies under the stress of Joe potentially saying no to my mother.
Her voice is all sugar and about an octave higher than it was with Sunny. She explains the situation, and her need to use the busy spa for a photoshoot.
Joe, ever the gentleman, tactfully steps out of her reach and nods to his sister, “And what did Sunny suggest as an alternative, since the spa is booked for the day?”
“I don’t want an alternative. You’re misunderstanding me. This photoshoot is for your benefit.” My mother, the philanthropist.
“Thank you for thinking of us, but our guests have already paid for services today and we need to give them priority. If we had known about this photoshoot before this week, we could have made arrangements. As it is, you’re welcome to use the spa tonight. I’ll even come down and walk you around myself.”
“I can’t believe this.”Oh, no. Do not say what I think you're going to say.“You know who I am, right?”
And there it is. I have almost picked my acrylic thumbnail clean off.
“I know who you are. Unfortunately, that doesn't change anything.” That's a tone I've never heard him use.
My mother’s phone buzzes and I send up a prayer of gratitude as she holds up a finger to Joe and sashays down the hall to answer it.
