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Chapter18
Charlotte
Iunlock the door to my apartment and breathe a sigh of relief once I finally enter my home. The last two days have been draining and long and not without their frustration.
After I left Damien in our room, I ordered an Uber and took the ride to another resort on the other side of Oahu. My phone would not stop ringing or pinging with notifications, so I eventually texted Noelle, told her I was safe but wanted to be left alone, and then turned my phone off.
And I haven’t turned it back on since.
I was able to switch my flight to leave Monday afternoon instead of Tuesday morning with everyone else, and now it’s past eleven and I am exhausted.
As I take my suitcase to my room and prepare to sleep to avoid my problems, I figured I should at least let someone know that I’m home. But as I stare down at the black screen on my phone, I think about how blissful it’s been with no one bothering me. And the truth of the matter is, I don’t want to face the repercussions of my actions just yet. I’m not even sure how to go about solving any of the problems I created; ruining my parents’ vow renewal, admitting that mine and Damien’s relationship was a lie, and wrecking a trip that was supposed to be a vacation and celebration for everyone. Not to mention, how I left things with Damien.
The look on his face, his words, and the truth he spewed, it’s been haunting me for the past twenty-four hours, and I wish I could just forget it too.
Knowing I can’t avoid my life forever, but I can at least put it off until the morning, I turn my phone on, ignore all of the notifications that pop up, send Noelle a quick text letting her know that I’m home, and then turn it right back off. Then I head for the shower and leave my suitcase to unpack another time. My eyes are dry and swollen from crying, my heart is aching in my chest, and my head is pounding from the mess I created that keeps spiraling through my mind.
But my bed is calling my name, and that is the only call I will be answering presently.
* * *
“Good morning, Helen,” I say Tuesday morning as I walk into my office and see my assistant stare up at me like she’s seen a ghost.
“Charlotte? What are you doing here?” she asks around a bite of her blueberry muffin, wiping her mouth quickly as she finishes chewing.
“Well, I came home earlier than expected and decided to come back to work instead of wallowing around my apartment.”
“Uh oh. That doesn’t sound good. Does it have anything to do with the video?”
I freeze as my heart gets hit with jumper cables, speeding up its steady beat. “What video?”
Helen’s eyes grow bigger. “Oh, God. You haven’t seen it?”
“Seen what?”
Helen grabs her phone and holds it to her chest. “It’s nothing.”
“What the hell are you talking about, Helen?” I reach for her phone before remembering I have my own. I was so stubborn about refusing to turn my phone back on that I used my actual alarm clock to wake me up this morning instead of the alarm on my phone.
Digging through my purse, I locate my cell and turn it on, waiting for it to wake up before the screen starts flooding with notifications. There are about a hundred missed calls, fifty text messages, and social media notifications up the ass, but nothing from Damien. And my heart deflates with that realization, although I don’t really blame him.
I start scrolling through the most recent text messages.
Mom: Charlotte! We need to talk! Call me or your father right now! This isn’t a joke. Please call us, sweetie.
Noelle: Are you sure you’re okay? We’ll be home tomorrow and we’ll stop by once we land and get out of the airport.
Penelope: I’m so fucking proud of you! And look, you’re an internet sensation. *link
I click on the link that Penelope sent, which leads me to a social media app where people upload random videos all of the time. And then I see my face, my dress, and hear the words I spewed in front of the entire wedding reception.
I gasp, covering my mouth with my free hand as I watch the entire altercation play back right in front of me—me screaming at my mom, me telling off Damien’s dad, and Damien punching his dad in the face before I ran off. Watching my outburst immortalized on the internet for anyone to watch has my stomach dropping over and over again.
“Oh. My. God.” My entire body is numb and I seriously feel like I’m going to pass out.
And then I look at the views—over three million people have viewed it, and one million people have liked it.
“What the fuck?”
“I take it you didn’t know,” Helen says shyly, staring up at me from her seat.
“No! How long has this been up?”
“Since yesterday sometime. It’s gone viral, honey, and I can only imagine it’s a matter of time before the boss rolls in here.”
“Oh, she’s already here.”
I spin around to find Trina standing in the doorway to my front office where Helen’s desk is. “Trina, I had no idea…”
She holds up her hand, cutting me off. “I figured as much. I doubt any self-respecting businesswoman would agree to let something like that get plastered all over social media.”
“Someone was obviously recording it and uploaded the video.”
“Obviously.” She rolls her eyes. “But here’s the problem, Charlotte, this is bad. Bad for you and bad for the magazine. People know who you are, and clients are going to be running for the hills if we don’t spin this the right way or get it taken down.”
“I know.” My eyes well with tears. I wasn’t sure how this entire situation could get any worse, but I never imagined something like this happening. “I’m sorry.”
“Hey, I sympathize with you. Luckily, I grew up in a very forward-thinking, female-driven household where we were encouraged to be whatever we wanted to be. My sister is a tattoo artist, and I went into the world of magazine publishing, obviously. But we were never berated for our choices, so I can’t imagine what that must be like.” A part of me just developed a newfound respect for my boss that she is trying to put herself in my shoes. “However, this is a PR nightmare from a business perspective, so I think it’s best that you lie low for a little while.”
