Getting over your first crush seems impossible - especially when he's the star of the world's biggest movie franchise.
***
Jess Wheeler is happily single and perfectly content with her simple life in Hemlock Landing, South Carolina, where all she kn...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"O-okay. Well, please do it quickly. Okay. Alright. Thank you. Bye bye." My mother hangs up the phone and collapses onto the nearest loveseat like a puppet whose strings were cut, nearly sending Kayley toppling to the ground. The mood in the lobby becomes even grimmer, if such a thing is possible.
"What did they say?" I ask, deciding it's best to just rip off the bandaid. Nigel, Kayley, and I have been sitting in tense silence long enough.
"It'll take the nearest plumber about two hours to get here, and that's not even scratching the surface of how long the actual restoration will take." She groans and rubs a hand down the center of her face, smudging her mascara. "Everyone is short-staffed, and there's just not that many professionals near Hemlock Landing that can handle such a big mess."
"Two hours?" Kayley shouts as if she'd just found out that an asteroid is headed for the planet. "I need to be at the town square to find a parade spot in, like, thirty minutes!"
"That's what you're choosing to focus on right now? Homecoming Week?" I snap, outraged. I look to Nigel for support, but he's trying and failing to cover up a snicker. Thoroughly annoyed with the British assistant, I turn back to my sister. "I seriously can't believe you sometimes. How can you be so selfish?"
"Well, I'm so sorry for not being like you, Jess, and not caring about anything," Kayley retorts. "Of course I'm worried about the B&B, but worrying about it won't solve the problem!"
"Neither will throwing yourself into a sea of fangirls."
"Girls, please," Mom groans, pressing her fingertips into her temples, and I force my mouth shut. "I have no idea how we're going to afford this. Not to mention how much business we're going to lose."
Nigel nudges me in the ribs, hard, and whispers, "She needs to know." I frown, even as I start to open my mouth to tell her about the money that Bay offered for the repairs. But there's still a horrible, stubborn part of me that feels like accepting his financial support is accepting defeat. Selling out. So I remain silent, to Nigel's great consternation, and Bay himself finally descends the stairs, careful to avoid stepping in the wettest spots. Even across the room, I can hear Kayley's breath catch.
And I can't say I blame her.
Bay looks like he's ready for a Hollywood photo shoot in dark dress pants and a pressed blue shirt that's half-tucked in. His dark hair, sometimes worn in a sleek pompadour, falls across his forehead in short strands, having fully dried since the shower debacle. Casually sexy is a good way to describe him, and the second that I think the words I hate myself. I hate myself even more when I start to picture what his body looks like underneath all of those expensive clothes. But Bay doesn't notice my reddening cheeks; instead, he glances at my mother with the guiltiest expression possible.
"Ella, I'm so sorry about all of this." He shoves his hands into his pockets. "I swear, I'm paying for every cent. I don't want you to worry about any of this mess."
