“I figured. What about you, though?” I press the phone closer and give Wes a reassuring nod.
His shoulders drop slightly and he steps back to give me space. Donna’s brow creases with a question as she crosses the pasture carrying three Cokes.
“Yeah, nah. I’ll be fine,” Frankie says with a confidence I don’t buy. “We’llbe fine. I get a bit paranoid when stuff like this happens. I didn’t want anyone following me to your house.”
“Makes sense.”
“I didn’t mean to derail your day, but I think Junie’s safest here until someone can pick her up.”
In the background, Junie cries, “I want you to play at my house!”
I glance at Wes whose eyes narrow with concern thatmorphs into understanding. “Go.” He tips his head toward Donna. “We can handle it.”
I nod my thanks then tell Frankie, “I’m on my way.”
I don’t bother packing up my kit. Wes can bring it to me. He’ll need the ointment in it.
My tires kick up enough dust as I peel out, that a fine layer of it clings to my truck long after I’m on the main road. My speed creeps way over the limit, and I formulate a story that’s enough of the truth to not be an all-out lie in case a cop pulls me over. Then I formulate a plan for what to do when I get to Flo’s and secondary plans for any other emergency that might pop up.
Usually planning calms me down. This time, though, my plans don’t ease my worry. I know how to help animals and how to keep Junie safe, but I don’t know how to protect Frankie from being found. There’s no antibiotic or vaccine for that. No seatbelt or booster seat.
But, whatever the answer, I intend on finding it. Anyone wanting to do Frankie harm—emotionally or physically—will have to go through me first.
Chapter 7
Frankie
Even with the door closed, the noise from Flamingo’s dining room and kitchen seeps into Flo’s office, making any kind of peace impossible. But I’m as much at fault as anyone for my less-than-ideal sanctuary. While Junie’s on my lap wearing my wig and watching her fourth episode ofBluey, I’m checking the view count on the Tik Tok video for the thousandth time.
The video is officially on its way to viral, andSerenity Covekeeps showing up in the comments.
In between checking view counts and okaying “one more”Blueyepisode three times now, I’ve obsessively checked for messages from Cal. I wanted to do my best with Junie to return the favor he did me last week, helping me escape. Really to thank him for his friendship every day he’s come in to Flamingo’s over the past six months.
But the healthy snacks are still in her bag, and she’s got an empty shake glass in front of her, along with half a dozen fries on the floor from the extra-large order Flo made for us. Junie’sbeen watchingBlueyfor two hours straight, and she’ll watch as many episodes as needed whether or not she asks.
I’m not in the right headspace to be taking care of anyone right now. Flo saw that on my face when I rushed through the back door. She took one look at me, dumped fresh-cut potatoes into the fryer, then shuffled Junie and me into her office and shut the door. I’d torn off my uniform and changed into street clothes as fast as I could. If people were going to take any more pics of me, it was going to be in my own clothes and in my own hair.
Junie had gasped when I took off the wig. “You have more hair?”
Which is how she’s ended up wearing my wig for the past two hours, despite the look of horror on Flo’s face when she brought us a tray of fries and found Junie—blonde and beehived—scribbling on a notepad like she was a server. Flo huffed but didn’t say a word about it.
She had more important things to say to me about the customers—all out-of-towners—who’d come in five minutes after I left, clutching their mobiles and asking, “Is this where Frankie Forsythe works?”
I busy my hands straightening my wig on Junie’s head and retying her shoes, but all I can think about is how I brought this on myself. No one knew about Serenity Cove until my Tik Tok. I always got heaps of views, but that one went viral, just like I’d wanted. Or thought I’d wanted.
In my mind, I was hyping Rancho Mirage, the eco-resort Dad and I planned to open in Serenity Cove. Really it was just my dad manipulating me for his own gain.
Once I figured out how Dad was using me and Serenity, I did my best to undo the damage. I’d hoped Serenity Cove could go back to being a secret. I hoped even harder for that when Iran away and thought this was the only place I wouldn’t be found.
But wishes don’t come true and there’s no such thing as putting a genie back in a bottle. I can act, but I can’t pretend there hasn’t been a vibe shift since I “discovered” Serenity: more outsiders, more mobiles, more Serenity isn’t hidden anymore energy.
Junie’sBlueyepisode comes to an end, and I’m ready to watch another.Blueyis the only good thing that’s come out of this mess today. If I have to hole up alone for a while, I’ll be binging every episode about the Australian blue heeler and her family, imagining that’s what my life could have been like if Dad and Mum had stayed together and Archie and I had just stuck to surfing instead of moving to LA to be on TV.
Except, that’s heaps ofwhat ifs, and they don’t even touch on the biggest one: what if Dad hadn’t hit so big with Forsythe Tech? What if he’d never become a billionaire? In my mind, that’s where we went from being a happy little Aussie family likeBluey’to a heap of trouble.
We were a wealthy family, even before the billions, and we’re also not cartoon dogs. Both may have something to do with all our family disfunction.
Just as the next episode starts, Junie turns off the iPad and slips off my lap. “I’m ready to play at my house now.”
