But I need to examine what my real motivations are here. Will I sell out anybody just to sign on the dotted line?
I did.
And I hate that.
I hate that I did it. I hate that I used him to get this contract in my hands.
It feels tainted. It feels gross. I caved to the pressure, and that’s not me.
I can’t sign off on this with a clear conscience even though it’s everything I’ve been working toward.
I’d rather go back to pouring drinks and whining until Chip gives in and cleans the soda gun nozzles for me than sign away my morals on a dirty contract.
I sit on the beach for a long time, contract in hand, as I stare at the water moving in and out of the shore, contemplating what the hell I should do.
When I get back to my room, I open my door to a hundred helium balloons.
What the hell? These were supposed to go to Archer’s room for his birthday surprise, not tomyroom.
I thought I was specific about that. How the hell am I going to get a hundred balloons over to the Beachfront Tower from here?
I spot the message light blinking on my phone. I run for the phone to listen to the message, hoping it’s him.
Turns out it isn’t him after all.
“Ms. Monroe, it’s Emerson from the concierge desk. I’m calling to let you know that when we went to deliver the balloons to Mr. Bradley’s room, we discovered that hehad checked out. We tried getting in touch with you but couldn’t, so we delivered them to your room instead.”
That’s it. That’s the message.
My chest aches. My hands tremble. My chest tightens.
He checked out early.
He didn’t say goodbye. He didn’t leave his number. He didn’t allow me to surprise him with a hundred balloons.
He’s gone, and so is any hope that he’d be willing to listen to my apology.
CHAPTER 38: Archer Bradley
A Hell of a Way to Spend My Birthday
I stare out the airplane window.
Danny chartered this plane, and when I told him that I needed to get the fuck out of here, he told me there was plenty of space.
And there is.
We have two pilots, a flight attendant, and the four of us along with Gabby and Sunny on a plane meant for twelve people. AJ is sleeping across two seats in the back. Cooper has his head bent close to his wife’s, and she’s holding a sleeping two-and-a-half-year-old against her chest.
Danny slides into the seat next to me when we’re an hour into the return flight to Vegas. “Why’d you want tojet out?”
I shrug. “I was leaving in a few days anyway, and you all being here reminded me that I need to get my ass back to the gym instead of the beach.”
“Lies,” he accuses.
I press my lips together and return my gaze back out the window without a reply, falling back into my old habit of shutting out the world.
I may have gone away for a few weeks, but I’m right back where I started.
