“I will be.”
I tossed and turned that night, lost in a sea of nightmares all involving Logan. When the sun came up, I went for a run along the beach, attempting to clear my head. George came with me—chugging along and not impressed with the early morning run. I was never one to meditate, but sat on the beach with my eyes closed searching for my zen. I established right there and then that I had no zen. Zen could only be achieved with a bottle of tequila. Since it was just after seven in the morning, I figured it might be too early for that and opted for a fruit smoothie. It certainly didn’t have the same affect.
Tayla turns up just after midday, dressed in denim cut-offs and an oversized black tee. Already bored, she begs me to go out so she can explore LA.
“Let’s go out, Emmy. Shopping, drinks . . .”
I smile at her eagerness to grow up. “Shopping yes, drinking no. You’re only sixteen.”
“Sixteen these days is like twenty-one. Besides, I’ve drank before.”
We are driving to The Grove—top down and allowing our skin to soak in the sun. I’m happy to spend time with Tayla; chatting away and talking about all the things girls love to talk about. A nice distraction from my fucked-up love life. Despite it being only us girls, Jimmy said he would be close by in case something happened.
“I don’t want to know why you’ve drank but no drinking on my watch. I need to return you to Mom and Dad in one piece.”
“Argh,” she drags beneath her shades. “You’re just like Mom. What about tonight? Can we at least do something fun?”
“Sure. What do you have in mind?”
“A party?”
I laugh. “Most parties involve alcohol which means no one underage. Leave it with me, I’ll see if Scarlett knows of anything going on tonight.”
“Wow, do you think she’ll be there?”
I shrug, driving in the parking lot where I park the car in the first spot I see available.
We spend the afternoon shopping like crazy. I enjoyed spoiling my sister granted Mom will give me an earful for the clothes I allowed her to purchase. Paparazzi followed, but weren’t too invasive and allowed us to do our own thing. Inside Barneys New York, a few shoppers stopped me to take photos and sign autographs—something I hadn’t done in a while since fans were more eager for photos than my signature.
When my feet became sore and tired, I suggested we stop at Groundwork Coffee for a much-needed caffeine pick me up. I ordered myself a double-shot espresso and something less strong for Tayla.
“So, I spoke to Ash yesterday.” She grins, blowing the foam that steams from the top of her cup. “Logan’s been a bit down in the dumps.”
“Maybe he has his period.”
Tayla laughs, almost spilling her drink all over her cell that sits on the table in front of her. “What happened in London? You don’t need to sugar coat it for me. I’m a big girl.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I thought what happened back at home was a one-time thing? You only have to stalk the two of you online to see somethings going between you guys.”
The bitter taste of espresso goes down my throat the wrong way causing a coughing fit. When I finally come for air (despite the whole restaurant on edge waiting to see if I was okay), I bow my head wanting to keep this conversation confidential.
“I don’t believe that.”
“Here.” She shows me a ton of photos, many of Logan and I together in London that I hadn’t realized had been taken. Most sites made no reference to us being any more than family friends, aside from one. A small blogger from London that documented our every move and suggested we were having an affair.
“We need to get out of here,” I say panicked, the anxiety creeping in as the heat rises beneath my skin.
“Are you okay?” Tayla asks, worried.
“I will be.” My throat closes in and with force, I pull her along, my other arm full of shopping bags, until we’ve reached the car and are sitting inside—just the two of us.
“What the hell happened back there?”
“I . . . I don’t know,” I cry openly. “It’s so messed up. I don’t know what to do. Whichever way I look at it, I’m hurting someone.”
“But you knew this,” Tayla reminds me softly. “Your life is not ordinary. Whatever you do is seen by everyone. Can I ask you something?”