“When Jeanie down at the farmer’s market started dating Mr. Reyes, the owner of the floral booth, while she was still doing the horizontal mambo with Mr. Kuhn, who owns the produce stand, she changed her Facebook status toIt’s complicated.”
Of course she did.
“What happened, sugar?”
I can’t talk to Gran about my sex life. Can I?
Who’s she going to tell?
Everyone at the farmer’s market, for starters.
Whatever. She’s older and wiser. Maybe she’ll have some helpful advice.
God knows I can’t call my mother. She’s probably still fuming about the fact that I quit my job, and the last thing I need right now is another lecture about fiscal responsibility.
Hard pass.
“Miles and I had an arrangement.” I pause, rallying my courage. I cannot believe I’m about to discuss my sex life with my freaking grandmother. “It was purely physical. We agreed that what happens on the road stays on the road.”
“So it was a friends-with-benefits sitch.” Gran sounds mildly impressed. “Why’d you end it?”
“Miles offered me a paid Triada sponsorship, which is great, but he wanted things to go back to the way they were before, and I didn’t.”
There’s a quiet sound that I think is understanding. “You wanted more from the relationship.”
“I’ve been in love with him for almost two years.” It feels good to finally admit it aloud. I’ve never told anyone about my feelings for Miles, not even my closest friends. Which is probably for the best, since it’s never going to happen. “Unfortunately, he doesn’t feel the same.”
Which, in hindsight, is why our fling was always going to end in disaster. There was no outcome where I wasn’t going to fall harder, because every day we were together, he pulled the curtain back a little further, letting me see the man behind the mask.
And every day, I fell a little more in love with him.
“I’m sorry, sugar.” Gran sighs. “I was kidding when I said he had more money than sense, but I suppose this proves it once and for all. What are you going to do now?”
“I have no idea,” I admit, pouring myself a cup of coffee. The milk’s long gone, so I just add a heaping spoonful of sugar and stir. “But if I don’t figure it out fast, I’ll be moving back to Austin to live in your driveway.”
“As delightful as that sounds, it’s not an option. I had the driveway ripped up last week to expand my hemp garden. I’m going to sell hemp jewelry when the new crop is ready.”
Of course she is.
Because Gran is #lifegoals, and she’s entirely unapologetic about living her best life.
“Sugar, I mean this in the nicest possible way, but it’s high time you quit feeling sorry for yourself and get creative. When you planned this adventure, that man was not even in the picture. Sure, those delicious abs of his helped you find your way to the spotlight, but it’s up to you to keep yourself there. You don’t need a man to do that. You’re a smart, independent, ambitious woman.”
“It’s not that simple, Gran.”
Great. Now I sound like Miles.
To her credit, Gran doesn’t argue.
“Why did you become a travel influencer?” she asks.
The question throws me, and I sip my coffee as I consider. “Because I wanted to share my pictures with the world.”
I was tired of standing in the shadows. Tired of quietly doing what was expected.
“And I wanted to blaze my own trail. To have something that was all my own.”
“Exactly.” Triumph echoes through the line, and I can practically hear Gran smiling. “You did this for yourself, sugar. No one else. You need to see it through.” She chuckles. “Your mama and I may not always see eye to eye, but I know she didn’t raise you to be a quitter, and she sure as hell didn’t raise you to depend on a man.”
