Chapter 19 – ANNA
19
ANNA
A brisk sea breeze blew past me, billowing through my loose dress. The sun’s first light warmed my back, and sand pressed under my toes. The water lapped calmly on the sand and the soft dawn light cast a warm glow on the beach.
I decided.
I was never leaving the ocean again.
“Can I have you two walking through the surf, Summer?”
She was yawning but nodded.
“Sure, what do you want me to do with my arms?”
She pushed up from the rock where she was sitting with her boyfriend.
James was a six-foot-tall med student who had not only agreed to join Summer’s photoshoot without question, but he also brought her coffee and two different dress shirts in case the one he had on clashed with her outfit or didn’t photograph right.
“Umm… maybe, like, frolic a little? Try and look natural, though. Just give me some movement.”
Summer obediently took James’ hand and led him to the edge of the water. I followed them into the water, making sure I caught a good shot of them as she playfully pulled him along to a slow run, kicking up water.
I wanted the natural sandstone bluffs in the background of the shot, so I had to angle it just right. This beach wasn’t large, just a sandy crescent bordered by rocky cliffs on each side, but the small cove in the morning with no one around was breathtakingly beautiful. The blue water sluicing over the rocks and sand was probably the kind of peaceful you experienced when you died.
I’d always thought so, anyway.
In some of my bleaker moments, I didn’t think drowning would be such a bad way to go.
Summer stopped to pull James in for a quick kiss before spinning out with his hand still in hers. I snapped every facet of the movement, knowing in every shot she would look absolutely gorgeous.
I suspected that she saw an engagement on the horizon and wanted to have some professional photos ready for the big day.
It was almost… unsettling watching them.
Things seemed so easy between them.
Unforced. Unhurried. Unfrantic.
Just… easy .
Was this what it was supposed to be like?
James let go of Summer’s hand and splashed water at her. I snapped a couple of shots, shaking off the sour thoughts. I caught a shot of the water midair and Summer at just the moment before she covered her face with her hands.
James grabbed Summer around the waist and hoisted her up to his chest. She wrapped her arms around his neck, squealing. I was about to take the shot but my finger stopped midway, almost jarred by the intimacy as he let her slip lower so their faces were inches apart.
He said something to her, too soft for me to hear which made her laugh. She threw her head back. Click . And then she kissed him.
I looked up from behind my camera with a fake sneer. “You guys are disgusting.”
Summer looked over first.
“What? You said frolic. This is frolicking,” she said, her feigned pout unable to hide the smirk pulling at her lips.
“Okay,” I said over a laugh. “Well, I think we’re good. You can stop frolicking now.”
“You’re going to look so hot in these photos, babe,” James said, coming up out of the water with Summer.
His arm went around her waist and he pulled her into him. The movement was so fluid and automatic, like he was blinking, or swatting a fly away when it landed on his leg. They were so incredibly in sync and natural together. It was adorable and yes I was jealous.
But only of some parts.
“I bet my girl Anna can make a street cat look like a lion if she wanted to,” Summer said with a giggle.
“Well you are far from a street cat,” he joked, and she raised her hands, curling them into claws.
His other arm went around her, and he pressed a kiss to her forehead, erasing her faux feline snarl.
Summer and James really were adorable together. They were playful, flirtatious, respectful, and kind. Why couldn’t I just be attracted to guys like James?
Instead, bad guys seemed to draw me in like a moth to a fucking blowtorch.
And then there was Carter, who literally threw me in the trunk of his car two days ago. I should have been running for the hills, but instead, I was obsessing about when I could see him again. I tossed and turned all night, remembering how relaxed I felt when he spanked me.
If anyone else threw me over their shoulder and locked me in their trunk, I’d have been traumatized.
So then why wasn’t I?
I was angry. So so fucking angry at first, until I realized I should’ve been scared and sat there in the dark closed-in space wondering why I wasn’t.
Why when he said he needed to punish me, I got excited .
God, what was wrong with me?
“I don’t know about you, Anna, but I need breakfast,” Summer said, interrupting my thoughts.
As if on cue, my stomach growled.
“What if I said I had a mean souffle pancake recipe that I want to try out on you two?” James asked.
Okay, so he was perfect.
I would roll my eyes if I wasn’t so happy for Summer.
James gave me his address and I got into the car with David to drive me to his apartment, knowing Carter’s men wouldn’t be far behind us, even if I couldn’t see them.
James and Summer didn’t live together but arrived together that morning. He lived in a condo not far from the medical center. David took me to his address, no questions asked. I knew that that address was all he would need to put together an entire dossier on James if my dad wanted to know where I was and with whom.
No need to worry, though. Daddy would take one look at James’ file before giving it his stamp of approval. This was exactly the kind of man he’d approve of.
David had had to collect the car I left outside of Jaden’s studio. I was under no illusions he would keep my indiscretions to himself when I’d needed to explain where I left it. So, when my dad asked where I’d been, I didn’t lie.
I didn’t need to protect Carter anymore.
And I knew it would piss him off.
It brought me an insane amount of joy to watch his face pale and slacken as I told him, ‘Oh, I was with an old friend. Carter. Remember him? I think that pathetic boy might be wealthier than you now, Dad .’
God, he hated Carter back then. He still hated him now. I saw the hostility every time they were forced to make nice at events and the feelings were mutual.
I closed my eyes, pressing my face against the cool glass of the window.
Why had I stayed when he let me out of the trunk?
I was still so fucking weak. Still his little toy. I barely knew my own name when I was with him.
Inside me, somewhere deeper, I felt an ache.
I saw his face between my legs, brown eyes like liquid amber the first time he tasted me.
And later, when he took my last first and they all officially belonged to him.
It all came back, but the ache bled for the ugly parts.
The memory of his face twisted in anger and contempt as he told me he didn’t give a shit about me. I was just a worthless fuck. The wrenching pain of that moment and the darkness in the aftermath. I almost didn’t survive it.
After I left home, even with the money I’d been squirreling away for Carter to keep me fed and sheltered for a while, I was so. Damn. cold.
So empty.
It was a good thing there was no ocean in Missouri, or I’d have thrown myself in it.
I needed to stop. When we were together, it was easy to forget what he did, but after…
It was all I could remember. If I let him get his claws in me again, he’d really tear me apart this time.
Upstairs in James’ condo, Summer and I sat at the barstools at his breakfast bar picking at chocolate chips and berries as he put together the soufflé pancakes, hunching over his phone to confirm the recipe with each step.
“So how did the meeting with that photographer go?” Summer asked, sipping her mimosa.
I made a barfing sound.
“What was that?” she asked with a laugh, cocking her head with a crinkle to her eyes.
“It was a flop,” I explained, remembering Jaden’s hand on my thigh.
I grimaced.
Apparently, he’d taken off. I’d looked it up yesterday, terrified I might find a headline that read ‘Celebrity Photographer Found Dead in His Midtown Studio,’ but instead there was only a short article that read ‘Celebrity Clients Left to Flounder in Wake of Photographer Shutting Down his Midtown Studio Without Notice.’
Good. He should run. I didn’t want to think about what Carter might do to him if he’d stayed.
“What happened?”
“He thought that us working together meant he was going to get favors ,” I admitted.
Summer rolled her eyes, groaning. “ Men.”
“ Men, ” I agreed, glad she wasn’t prying anymore into what happened.
“They’re all the same, aren’t they?”
“Who are all the same, honey?” James asked, tuning into the conversation.
Summer recounted my story.
“This guy who offered to help Anna with her photography just did it to try and get in her pants. And I meant most men, Jamesy. Not you, obviously.”
“He what?” James actually looked genuinely disgusted. “What an asshole.”
He served up the thick, fluffy pancakes, telling us to wait for him to grab the whipped cream from the fridge, then dolloping out a helping for each of us. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”
“Yeah. So that’s dead in the water. I’m on my own now. Again.”
“Will breakfast help?”
I laughed. It was a good start.
This was probably the most ‘normal’ meal in ‘normal’ company I’d had since I got home.
“Bon appétit,” James said, staying on the other side of the breakfast bar. I noticed his eyes on us as we tried our pancakes, anxiously jumping between me, then Summer, then back again. Summer took a bite, then gasped.
“Oh my god, babe, this is delicious.”
“Yeah?” A wide smile spread across his face.
I tried mine, slicing through the fluffy pancake, getting a bit of the cream. It melted in my mouth. I hummed with pleasure, getting another bite, spearing some berries for some sweet tartness.
“That’s insane, how did you get it so fluffy?”
“A chef never shares his secrets,” he said with mock seriousness, tossing the dish towel over his shoulder. “But I’m glad you like them.”
We paused to eat, discussing how he got the cakes so thick but so light at the same time. Summer conspiratorially promised to swipe the recipe link from his phone and send it to me when he wasn’t looking.
“Can I ask you something?” James hedged after washing the pan and utensils.
I piled some more berries on my plate. “Sure, fire away.”
“The guy in the black suit driving the Mercedes with the blacked-out windows,” he said, trailing off. I sipped my coffee.
“That’s not a question.”
“Is that one of the perks of being the governor’s daughter?” he asked.
“I guess. He’s not my personal driver, though. He drives my dad and mother around too sometimes.”
“ Of course , a driver just for you would be way too extravagant. Sharing one with your family is so much more economical.”
I laughed. “Touché. I don’t make the rules. I just live there. Truly, I’d rather get around alone, but it’s not up to me. Security, you know?”
“I’m surprised he’s that worried about threats. Governor Vaughn’s pretty well-liked.”
By some people.
But I knew James was right, as shocking as it was.
None of Hudson’s misdeeds had seen the light of day and his competition was comparatively worse. He had curated his life so carefully that even his approval rating and credit score didn’t ever dare to disappoint him.
Instead of explaining that my driver was really just a babysitter, Dad’s little way of controlling me after the disappearing act I pulled six years ago, I said, “Did he have your vote the last time he ran?”
James laughed.
“I was out of state then, so I didn’t get the chance to, but if he was running again, he’d have it for sure.”
Maybe James wasn’t perfect after all.
“He’s gonna try for the presidency eventually so maybe you can make good on that promise then,” I said, hating how the words left my mouth so easily. The perfect response from the perfect daughter of the perfect future POTUS.
“Oh really?”
“Yeah. Career politician. He doesn’t really have the skills to do anything else.”
“Not like Anna,” Summer said proudly. “I can’t wait to see the photos from this morning. I wish you’d show me some of the ones you took in Malawi.”
I looked down at my hands. I still hadn’t told Summer the truth. Part of me was scared she’d be pissed at me for lying to her, but another part was afraid she’d judge me. Where I came from, women didn’t grow up to work at cocktail lounges.
They studied medicine or law or journalism with very little variation and when the time came, they shelved that achievement for their real life goal: trophy wife.
The worst part was, I wanted to show Summer my photos. She’d been so supportive of me since I got back. I wished I could pull out my portfolio and show her everything.
Wishing got me nowhere.
You know what? Fuck it .
Why couldn’t I show her? Why couldn’t she know the truth?
Olivia Wu knew. Jaden Austen knew. Why stop there?
I suspected Summer and James could handle the truth and keep it to themselves.
If they didn’t?
Oopsie. Guess Daddy wouldn’t be able to use me as his precious doll anymore.
“Okay, so don’t hate me,” I said cautiously, earning myself a wrinkled look from Summer. “But I can’t show you any photos from Malawi…because I never went.”
Summer frowned. “What do you mean, you never went? You were gone for six years.”
I took a deep breath. “I was in St. Louis, actually. I wasn’t building houses. I was a cocktail waitress.”
James and Summer exchanged glances.
She barked a laugh, putting her hand on mine, waiting for me to say I was joking.
I didn’t.
She stopped laughing.
“Oh,” she chirped. “So…maybe start at the beginning ? ”
I ended up spilling the whole story. My job at the Butterfly Room, how I left St. Louis after a bad breakup, and Dad’s insistence that once I got back, I had to stick to his fake story about charity work. I glossed over exactly why Josh and I broke up, but otherwise, I told them everything.
When I was done, James started laughing. He had a huge, deep chortle that filled the room and managed to completely disarm me at the same time.
“Oh man,” he said between guffaws. “Your dad is nuts . He didn’t just make up a backstory. He rewrote you to make you into freaking Mother Teresa. Fuck that noise. What a jerk. He does not have my vote anymore, by the way.”
I gave him an apologetic look for my earlier ‘performance.’
“The house-building story was a bit over-the-top,” Summer admitted. “Considering that back when we were kids, you couldn’t even figure out my Lego blocks.”
“Hey! My Lego buildings weren’t supposed to be structurally sound,” I said with mock offense. “They were supposed to be creative expressions of my imagination.”
Summer shook her head. “Thank God you were lying. Those poor Malawians had enough problems without you being their architect.”
She did not just say that.
“So? Can we see the real photos?” James prompted.
I nodded and took out my portfolio. I carried it almost everywhere with me now, in a little satchel bag with my wallet and phone. I was too afraid to leave them at home. Unable to imagine my father’s rage if he found them.
“Oh shit, you actually, like, have them on you?” Summer chuckled with eager surprise.
Summer and James flipped through and carefully examined each photo, pointing out what they liked and asking stories about some of the women.
“Wow,” James said finally. “You weren’t kidding. She’s good .”
“Really freaking good,” Summer said loyally. “Seriously, Anna. These are amazing. You should be so proud.”
My heart swelled. I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear her praise. Jaden’s attack had rattled me, but so had his words. When he called me a spoiled rich girl with a hobby, I actually started doubting my talent. I needed a real friend like Summer to pull me out of it.
And I realized that was what she was all along. A real friend. I just hadn’t been able to see it because I didn’t want to.
“You totally have to submit these for exhibit. I bet there are a hundred galleries who would love to host this.”
“Oh god. No way. These are okay, but they aren’t that good. I…I have a long way to go before I get to that point, I think.
“Are these the negatives?” she pointed to the envelope, spilling film onto the counter. I didn’t trust leaving those at home, either.
I nodded.
“So cool. I haven’t seen film like this since I was a kid. Can I…?”
“Sure, just, carefully.”
She pushed up from her chair, taking the envelope to the window to look at the captured images with the light from the afternoon sun.
“I doubt many people use film like that anymore,” James mused, looking at Summer how I wanted people to someday look at my art.
“There are more of us than you might think.”