Jackie is no help as she’s being dragged from one group to another, and I can’t follow her around like a lost puppy. So, I suck it up, deflect what I can. Encourage them to talk more about themselves, which is not difficult.
I hold on with everything I have, following Jackie and Clara’s lead, and wave politely. The frozen smile melts away when the car door closes, and my lower lip starts quivering.
“If your purpose was to show me I don’t belong in your world, you made your point. And you.” I point at Jackie. “I thought you were the nice Rawlings.”
Jackie’s face is pinched, but her mother speaks before she can open her mouth.
“No, dear.” Clara is calm in the face of my meltdown. “It’s to show you what to expect.”
“When? It’s not my scene. As you wanted to point out, I’m a small-town nobody with zero qualifications for design.”
Clara looks straight at me and after a heartbeat of hesitation, she says something that makes my brain malfunction. “When you’re dating my son, you’ll have to attend these events frequently.”
“I’m not—”
“I know him too well.” Clara steamrolls me. “I couldn’t change his mind even if I wanted to. If you want him, stop being so naive. It’s not enough to be charming and talented. If you’re not equals it will never work.” She pauses. “And wouldn’t that be a shame?”
“You’ve been misinformed. Jackie, please explain to your mother there is no dating. No relationship. Carter is inNew York, living his life.” It’s painful to lay out the truth. “And I’m home in Silver Lake Falls.” I thought it would hurt less as weeks passed but saying it out loud still pierces my heart with a hot iron.
For the rest of the two-hour drive Clara and her daughter go through their schedules. They avoid any further mention of Carter and I stare out of the window, drowning in confusion, hope, disbelief, and fear.
“Jackie. Thank you for this, um, interesting day. Let’s not do it again, OK?” I tell her when we get out of the car in front of my house.
She makes that graceful sound when she laughs, and I have to wonder if it’s something you’re born with or if it comes when the zeros in your bank are more than six.
“It’s not funny. I’m struggling with enough self-doubt and your mom doesn’t think much of me.”
“Take it from somebody who grew up with the woman. If that was true, my mother wouldn’t give you the time of day. She did her homework,” Jackie says with a wink.
“I should be happy she’s pointing out my flaws?”
Jackie cups my shoulders. “They’re not flaws, Eliza. It’s the little things in our world which might be your undoing. Most of the people will be ruthless, the newspapers even worse. My brother claims he doesn’t care what anybody says about him, but do you want to put him and yourself in that position? Being with my brother involves a lot more than what’s going on between you two in your bubble. He can’t protect you forever.”
“Somewhere there’s a clog in our communication,” I say, frustration mounting. “Why do you keep insisting? We’re. Not. Together.” My voice trembles with each word and Jackie lunges for a tight hug. “I saw the pictures with Alicia anyway,” I say defeated into her smooth hair.
As much as I wanted to, there was no escaping Carter once he left. The media went wild when he called the press conference. They followed him relentlessly. Pictures and pictures of his painfully handsome face darkened by a deep frown. Always in a hurry.
Until a month later when my heart dropped into my stomach.
It hurt to read his goodbye note. But the pictures from the charity ball gutted me. The woman he told me there was no chance of getting back together with was everywhere on the Internet at his arm, smiling adoringly. She went on about how scared she was when he was in the hospital, in interviews. Did he lie about that too?
Jackie leans back, smiles, and says, “Just sleep on it, OK? Whether you want it all when it comes to him. I don’t want to see you hurt.”
Too late.
Chapter Thirty-Five
CARTER
The loud thump of the music and flashing lights pierce my brain like rusty nails. If Adam wasn’t close to a brother, I wouldn’t step foot in this club. Even less for a double date. But I’m worried about him. This time his downward spiral isn’t showing signs of giving up.
I swirl the amber liquid in the untouched glass. The color reminds me of Eliza’s eyes when she looked at me sometimes, thinking I wasn’t paying attention. Velvety and smooth. And warm. At this hour Eliza is probably nestled in her comfy chair drawing. Or she’s out with Quinn. Meeting people. My stomach churns as Alexa, who’s supposed to be my date, leans closer to whisper something about her dress in my ear. She’s been trying to get me to talk, but my mind keeps drifting off to memories of going out in the canoe, and lazy afternoons reading with Eliza napping on my chest.
Adam and the two women are on the second bottle of whiskey, and I barely touch my glass. They’re blitzed and in the mood to dance. I’m not, but the daggers Adam throws my way have me getting up with a groan to Alexa’s giggly excitement.
She does nothing for me. No desire to end the night at my place. No stirring whatsoever, no matter how much she tries to rub against me.
“Why are you so weird,” Adam slurs, pulling me aside.
