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But...her ego was hurt. That was it. She was being selfish again and...
“I guess I’m feeling a bit stupid now,” she said. “I... Why didn’t we talk about this? Why didn’t we decide it together?” Why hadn’t she known? Why didn’t she ever know when she was creating discomfort in others’ lives?
“There’s nothing to decide, Kace. You were the one, from the very beginning, who wanted to keep our association secret. I thought it was because you saw, as I did, that it was for the best if no one got any ideas.”
“It was because I didn’t want anyone to know that you were my life coach...of sorts. I didn’t want Lacey to know that I didn’t trust myself enough to do it on my own. I didn’t want her to think I’d grown weak...”
“It’s the weak person who refuses to ask for help.”
Sometimes. And other times they spent their lives leaning on everyone around them.
“You are the furthest thing from weak, Kacey Hamilton. I’ve never met anyone more determined to be accountable for your actions, to take control of them, to be the very best you can be in absolutely everything you do. Including being a friend to a small-town guy who thinks watching the sunset on the beach with a glass of wine is exciting.”
It sounded pretty damn good to her at that moment.
Maybe it wouldn’t have a year ago. She’d have wondered what she’d do next. Where she’d go. Whom she’d talk to. She’d have been afraid of running out of wine, or getting bored.
When had that changed?
Her head was hurting. She didn’t want to think so hard. Or rather, she hated thinking so hard and not coming up with answers. Push forward. That was Kacey. See something that needed doing and do it.
“Anyway, I don’t have much time right now,” she said, sitting up. “Anything new regarding the photos?” The one that morning had been of her out with a group of friends. She and Bo had gone to an after-hours club. She’d looked blitzed.
“I’m assuming you recognize the setting?”
“It w
as taken a couple of weeks ago. I was stone-cold sober. Not even a glass of wine. I hadn’t been feeling well that day, but Bo had heard that a director he’s been meeting with was going to be at this club and he wanted a chance for a conversation.”
“Did he get the conversation?”
“Yes.”
“But not the job?”
“The decisions haven’t been made yet. I expect that he’ll be chosen for the part. At least that’s what I’m hearing.”
“From Bo?”
“No.” From her agent, who worked for the same agency as Bo’s agent. One of the producers on the project had asked her opinion and she’d told him the truth—she thought Bo would be perfect for the part.
And she didn’t want to think about never meeting Michael’s family. Never knowing the people who were closest to him.
His reasoning was sound. It just made her sad.
She forced her thoughts back to the photos. “How many shots have to appear before we can do something about them?”
“I’ve already drafted a takedown letter to the site,” he told her. “It states that the pictures have been manipulated, along with the captions. Three in this short a space of time is enough of a history to warrant at least that.”
“So they’ll disappear? Just that easily?”
“I don’t expect them to honor my request, Kace. It’s just a step. Depending on what happens in the future, we can show that we’ve tried every reasonable means to resolve the situation.”
“In the future? Show to who?”
“Maybe no one. Hopefully no one...”
“But?” She heard it in his voice.
