Page 121 of Only Fate

“Now, I need you to do me a favor.”

“Yeah?”

“Tomorrow is the town’s fall festival. You’re helping me in my booth.”

I shrug, buckling my seat belt. “Works for me.”

She shifts the car into drive. “I’ll put my money on a pretty, dark-haired girl who sports cowboy boots and speaks legal jargon being in attendance as well.”

A fall festival—whatever the hell it is—sounds like a nice way to spend my day, especially if I get to see Essie.

38

If you want unbiased advice, you go to Mia.

I swear, the girl should charge for her services.

We’re sitting at her house in the sunroom. She lives on her parents’ property, secluded from most of Blue Beech for privacy, so the view, almost forest-like, is breathtaking.

A lemon candle is lit. I’ve never been inside her home when it doesn’t smell like something lemon-related.

“Your situation is tricky, babes.” She sits on the sectional across from me. “Adrian hiding the Earl thing was shitty. He should’ve gone straight to you the moment he read the case,butI see where he was put in a rough spot.” She raises a finger. “I’m in no way saying that’s an excuse. If you think he’s worthy of a possible second chance, hear him out and make it clearno more secrets,period.” She relaxes against the cushions. “If you didn’t look the happiest I’ve seen you in years, I’d suggest you tell him to go fuck himself. But, Essie, the times I’ve seen you two together, a smile I haven’t seen since before the accident graced your face. I missed seeing that.”

I can’t help but smile.

Is this the smile she’s talking about?

“It’s kind of that smile, but brighter,” she says, as if reading my mind.

“Wait,” I say before gasping dramatically. “Does this mean Mia secretly likes love?”

She’s usually the most anti-love person I know.

It’s wild because her mom, Stella, has starred in countless romance movies. Mia has attended movie premieres since she was young. A lot of people thought she’d follow in her mom’s footsteps into entertainment, but she likes to stay far away from the spotlight.

Not that I blame her. I’ve heard the stories of stalkers, paparazzi, and the invasion of privacy Stella has had to deal with. Mia also has the fear that people only want to be around herbecauseof her mother’s stardom. She learned that the hard way when her first boyfriend accidentally texted her instead of a friend, pretty much saying those exact words.

Mia scrunches her nose, as if in disgust. “I hate lovefor myself, but it’d be selfish of me to deter others from it. On the few occasions I’ve found myself growing feelings for someone, I block their number and buy a new bag for myself instead.” She gestures toward the black leather Prada bag on the chair. “They don’t break hearts.”

I nod in agreement. “Retail therapy can be as satisfying as a male-given orgasm at times.”

Not that I knowtoomuch about that topic. My experience is limited to two guys.

“My best advice?” she goes on. “Read the email.”

I bite my lower lip, thinking. “Do you want to read it to me?”

She climbs across the couch, snatches her MacBook, and places it on my lap. “Log in.”

I open the MacBook and sign in to my email.

Adrian’s email sits in my inbox with the subject:Please read, Essie. I beg you.

I exhale a deep breath and mutter, “Here goes,” while opening the message before handing it to Mia.

She holds the MacBook in her lap as I watch her read the email. “It looks”—she pauses, continuing to read—“like a bunch of legal jargon regarding Earl’s case.”

Scooting back, she makes herself comfortable. She balances the MacBook on her lap as she reads the email. Minutes pass, and she doesn’t say a word.

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