“Are you sure you’ve told me about him?”
“Oh my fucking god,” he groaned. “I’m sure! We analyzed his profile before we even got here! You’ve just been on Aly Island and clearly not paying attention to a word I’ve said for weeks.”
He was right.
At least he must have been, because Lola had no memory of ever hearing about this guy, save for the notes Ryan left her when he vanished for days on end.
“Fuck me,” she exhaled. “I am so, so sorry.”
“I bet you are,” he said, still sounding annoyed.
“There’s just so much going on, you know? I’m pretty sure I’m losing my mind. This girl doesn’t text me back for a few hours and I’m considering offing myself? Clearly something is really, really wrong with me.”
He shook his head, but Lola could feel him loosening. “We already knew that.”
She laughed, mildly relieved, but it was cut short by her own freak-out—she wanted to meet this Emmett; she wanted to spend time with Ryan and work on her soul makeover and feel good again. She wanted to make clothes and gain back the trust of her followers. She wanted to influence (right?) and come out of this summer better. She evenwanted to prove to Justin that her plan was the right one.
But she also wanted Aly. She didn’t want Aly to ignore her. And she was worried that the latter wants felt…bigger. More demanding. And was that right? Was that supposed to be how this was? She could feel her panic stirring high in her chest.
“You can make it up to me by meeting him,” Ryan said, interrupting her brain chaos, “and being really, really nice to him.”
She nodded, eager to make it right, though she could still feel her worry about Aly trying to take hold of her brain. “Yes, let’s absolutely have dinner. I am dying to meet him.”
She hoped she could remember one single detail about Emmett first.
Ryan pulled out his phone. “I’m pulling strings to get us a reservation at Le Bilboquet,” he said. “Seven. Okay? Don’t dress like a hooker.”
She flinched. He was kidding, but it stung.
Was that who she was without Aly? Still that same post-breakup, post-career, post-life-having poser who overthought everything, embarrassed herself in the wrong outfits, and made the wrong choices? If you took out the Aly piece of the summer, was Lola still in the same place as when she first arrived in East Hampton? She wasn’t sure. And that was what scared her most of all.
“I’ll be there,” she promised. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
***
A few hours later, Lola went to the downstairs window and peered out at Aly’s house. There were no signs of life. Maybe, she thought with a sudden panic, something had happened. Maybe Aly had slipped or choked.
She should go over and check, she decided. Aly was a single womanin a huge house, alone. Which could be dangerous.
Still clad in just her bikini, she made her way to the neighboring house, where she knocked on the door and waited.
No answer. The lights were all off.
That was when she realized Aly’s car was gone.Huh, she thought. She wondered when Aly had left. The car had definitely been there this morning. She wasn’t sure how she’d missed Aly’s departure. Maybe when she was painting her nails? Had Aly seen her texts before she left?
There were a few places Aly could be—lunch, not looking at her phone, having some sort of work meeting maybe.
Or hiding from Lola.
Maybe she even went back to Brooklyn to avoid her.
Maybe they would never see each other again.
Maybe Lola would be left on read forever.
The rational and irrational parts of her brain warred with each other as she went back to Giancarlo’s and paced the living room.
She was not usually this girl. She didn’t freak out when someone didn’t text her back. Come to think of it, though, she was also not used to being ignored. Men in the city had just about lined up to date her. And Justin was a lot of things, but he wasn’t toxic like that.