“Yeah, I do, Abs. I absolutely do. I’ve missed this. I’ve missed us. I’ve been an incurable jerk, and I’m sorry.”
“There’s nothing to forgive. You were going through a tough time. You didn’t want to talk about it. But there’s nothing you could do to push me out of your life. I wouldn’t let you.”
“Thank you.” Some part of me has been clenched so tight for so long I didn’t even realize it wasn’t normal. Until now, when my friend’s words shake the tension loose.
My defenses crumble, and I share everything with her. The way I found out Brad had cheated on me. Multiple times. The way I lost it on him in public when I found out. And the way he spun the story to make me look unhinged, like a loose cannon that could misfire at any moment. The way he used his father’s power and influence to turn everyone against me. How things got so toxic on the set ofPaisley CreekI had to leave.
She listens, sympathizes, but doesn’t interrupt or offer advice. This is what I needed. Talking to a therapist is fine, but as a public figure I’m never truly comfortable spilling my deepest feelings to a stranger. Even someone sworn to secrecy. There’s too much at stake. So, I let him help me with the anxiety, the panic attacks, but not the deeper roots of it all.
“Wow, Ree. I’m so sorry you’ve had to go through that. I had no idea it was that bad.”
Which is also my fault. Because I didn’t tell her. Didn’t think I could open up even to my closest friend in the world.
“No, you didn’t. But it’s not your fault. I didn’t tell you and I should have. But it’s going to be okay.”
After I tell her about the show and the ranch, and my dirty little secret that led me here to Balsam Grove early, I then launch into the reason I actually called in the first place. Well, at least the reason I told myself I was calling.
“So, this is a really small town. And I couldn’t get a steady room anywhere but this shady hotel on the highway. But Quint offered to let me stay on the ranch. At his place.”
“Really? That’s nice of him. What’s stopping you?”
“I don’t know him. Not really. He’s nice. His family seem like good people, but I don’t really know them, and I’m pretty sure his sister hates me.”
Car tires screech as a red car pulls into the parking lot at a speed meant for the F1 track, not the pothole-ridden parking lot of a seedy hotel.
“I’m not going to make the decision for you, Ree. I’m not there, and I don’t know the situation. So, take a look deep down. I know it’s hard to trust your instincts when you’ve been burned before. But think about it. Is it your past experiences telling you not to trust him, or is it something real? Because if you really think you can’t trust him, then stay the fuck away from that situation. But if not…think about it. Weigh your options. Is the hotel that bad? Would you be better off with him?”
A loud bang has me almost jumping out of my skin, followed by someone yelling obscenities. Maybe the universe really is trying to tell me something.
“Thank you.”
It’s good to talk to her again. This is what I’ve needed for so long. A friend.
“Well, let me know what you decide. And send me your location. That way I can hunt him and his family down if it turns out they’ve wronged my bestie.”
Her fierce protectiveness wraps around me like my favorite worn-out college hoodie. Maybe I should wear that to the bar? Which reminds me.
“One more thing before I let you go. Quint invited me to a local bar, and I’m not sure what to wear. Any chance you can help?”
She laughs. “Aren’t you the one who’s supposed to be giving me fashion advice?”
It’s true. I’m usually the fashionista and was perpetually telling her what to wear in our college days. I’m still convinced it was the champagne dress that landed her the love of her life. At least, it got them started on the path.
“This is different.” I bend my neck to balance the cell precariously between my shoulder and ear while I walk back to the bed. “I know how to dress for a red carpet event, a Hollywood party, a fancy restaurant. Heck, I even know what to wear when I’m going shopping in Beverly Hills or to pick up a coffee at a trendy café. What I don’t know is how to dress for some random bar in the middle of buttfuck Canada. You have to help me.”
“And you think I do?” She laughs.
The phone slips, but I catch it before it can hit the filthy carpet, then swap it over to speaker. “You’ve always been better at casual than me. Plus you’ve been to Nashville. Written songs for country legends, for fuck’s sake. You’ve got to have some idea what would be appropriate.”
“Well, I’m not sure I’ll get it perfect, but I do know I’m going to relish this moment for the rest of eternity. The day Aurelia Lane asked me for clothing advice.”
“Whatever you say. As long as you get me through this night without standing out like the spoiled celebrity they probably think I am.”
“I can’t promise that one. You’ve always attracted attention. It’s like you were born for this life.”
“Tell that to the assholes from my last failed audition.”
“Aww, Ree.” Her teasing tone softens, and I hate it. We were just starting to get back into our playful rhythm and I had to spoil it.
