Page 41 of Go Away, Darling

He shrugged. “You did, right? You finally sealed the deal with the world’s best photographer. A.k.a Hot Momma Extraordinaire. A.k.a. MILF of the Year.”

“Please,pleasenever use any of those words ever again.” I even laced my hands together and physically begged.

Wes looked at Erik and then back at me. “What? All of it’s true!”

“You’re just so naturally an asshole you can’t see when you’re an asshole,” Erik grumbled.

Wes threw his hands in the air. “What? Olivia is super talentedandsuper hot.Andshe’s a mother. Where am I wrong?” Then he turned to me. “We’re just super happy for you. On your big day you got to celebrate inallthe ways. Right?”

I sighed because Wes was a force and there was no reasoning with him. He was like a tarpon on a hook, the more you fight him, the longer and harder he fights back. So I gave in. “Yes. Olivia and I had a celebration of our own last night. Happy?”

Wes beamed. “Yes. I am very happy foryou!” Then he leapt out of bed and put me in a headlock.

Erik shook his head. “Anyway, no one had heard from you this morning so we were sent to make sure you were up and checking your schedule for today. The three of us have the same rotation so we can give you a lift if you like.”

“Yeah sure.” I grabbed the dress clothes set aside for today’s interviews. “I have breakfast coming up. Can you let them in while I get changed?”

Erik threw himself into the armchair in the corner while Wes took the rolling desk chair. “I think we can manage that.”

Twenty minutes later I was dressed, fed, and walking into my first round of interviews. I had just enough time left to send Olivia one last text.

Going to be crazy for the next couple of days. I’ll call when I can. Miss you. X

Then I steeled myself for the media circus. “All right. Let’s do this.”

13

Only if it’s you

Olivia

It was weird to meet up with Summer and Linc after spending the night with Chris. Even weirder to return to our normal lives. The island almost felt foreign after the weeks of playoffs. For a small pocket of time we lived in another universe—one dominated by a drive for success and frosted over with my newfound creativity. I wasn’t the person I was when all this started. The house felt different.

It was quiet.

I had nowhere to be. No exciting new day to capture with my lens.

I tried to equate it to returning home after a vacation. When you realize your home has a scent you never otherwise notice. You see the clutter on your bedroom shelf or the disorganization of the bathroom in new ways.

In a few days everything would fade back into normality.

And for some reason that made my skin itch.

So I set about giving the house a good once over and then settled into my office to edit. I lost hours fine tuning the shades of gray, cropping images to draw the eye to a particular point. By the time dinner rolled around I threw together a salad and mac and cheese and looked at my phone, realizing I hadn’t heard from Chris all day.

This was perfectly normal. He had non-stop interviews scheduled. I shot him a text letting him know I missed him. I got Linc, grabbed a seltzer, and sat on the back porch to listen to the crickets as I checked the news. Chris’s interviews were already everywhere and I enjoyed watching them.

But I was also sad that after so much time together, we were apart.

I got an apology message at two in the morning. The next day was more of the same. As I shot off proofs to each of Chris’s teammates and coaches, getting almost instant replies and thanks, I began to feel the weight of Chris’s fame. He wasn’t just any ballplayer. He wastheballplayer of the moment.

So I was irritated—rationally or not—when he did finally call.

“Liv. I’m so sorry. It’s been nuts!”

I found it hard to hold a grudge considering the circumstances. “I’ve seen some of the interviews. They’re keeping you on your toes.”

“It’s no excuse. I should have found time to call. How are you?”

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