Page 35 of Bottle Shock
“I’m prepared, though.” I grin, trying to convince both of us. “I studied the listing, pulled the most recent comps, and my mom quizzed me half the night to make sure I don’t look like a complete newbie in front of the listing agent.”
“I hope he buys it—one, so you can get the commission, and two, so I have access to a lake house.”
The commission would be nice, especially considering how far I’ve dipped into my savings thanks to my stupid insurance. But with how flat the local real estate market is, I’ll probably need to pick up a side gig. When my agent finally calls with good news, I’ll need money for an apartment fast.
It all feels like such a huge feat—overwhelming, really. I’ve had zero motivation lately. Honestly, I’m amazed Elyse managed to drag me out the door for that heinous class. The side effects of being off my ADHD meds are becoming painfully obvious—the inability to focus, the constant restlessness, the way I lose track of time and entire days.
I’m basically a mess. It’s no wonder my last relationship—which only lasted three months—ended in cheating. I’m exhausting. If it’s not my diabetes, it’s my ADHD. Or it’s both. None of it’s fun, and it’s definitely not sexy. Sometimes it’s like I’m trying to be a version of myself that’s more palatable. Downplay how much diabetes runs my life. Make my ADHD seem quirky instead of a constant battle to focus, to react appropriately, to not overthink. Every. Single. Day. It’s aburden—I’m a burden—and that’s an even tougher pill to swallow than any medication I have to take.
Shaking off my negative thoughts, I focus my attention back on Elyse. “He’s going to have to like it. It’s the only home available.”
We’re quiet for a stretch, sipping our drinks and people-watching. Badger Canyon is the next town over from Red Mountain, so while it’s familiar, it’s nice to see faces that aren’t. You can’t step outside in Red Mountain without running into someone you’ve known most of your life. That’s what I liked about Chicago, among other things—the anonymity, the sea of strangers. I could disappear into the crowd while still belonging to the tight-knit theater community.
Or at least I used to.
These days, I’m not so sure where I fit. Chicago’s scene is smaller and more relaxed than New York’s, which is one of the reasons I always knew I’d never trade the Windy City for the Big Apple. But small also means word travels fast, and reputations stick even faster.
Gavin’s voice flickers through my head—What you’ve been through matters too.
I didn’t expect that to come back now, sitting here in the sun with Elyse, but it does.
And as much as I don’t want to talk about this, I know I need to.
“There’s something I need to tell you.”
Elyse looks up immediately. “What is it? Is it about the fire?”
I shake my head. “No. I’m okay. I promise.”
“Then what? Is it that cheating asshole? Because I swear to God, I never liked him. Such a?—”
“It’s not about him.”
My gaze drops to my smoothie. Condensation slips downthe cup, my thumbnail worrying at the edge of the label. I really, really don’t want to do this.
“You’re kind of scaring me,” she says quietly. “Do I need to kill someone? Who am I killing?”
A weak laugh slips out. “Your family is very murderous.”
She doesn’t laugh back.
I inhale slowly. It’s like ripping off a bandage. I just need to do it. “I…had an incident with my director.”
Elyse goes absolutely still.
“I’ve known him for years,” I say, the words coming rough and thin. “I’ve been to his house. Met his wife. Played with his kids. So I just—never thought…”
My throat tightens.
“You would never thinkhewould try anything.”
She doesn’t speak, but her eyes remain on me, unblinking.
“It was after rehearsal one night. Everyone had left. I didn’t even realize we were the last two there.” I give a humorless laugh. “He starts talking about how I’m getting older. How roles are going to get harder to land. How I should start thinking about my future.”
Elyse’s jaw clenches.
“And then he told me exactly how I could ‘secure’ it.”
