Chapter 19
19
A t home that evening, Sadie struggled to escape the funk that had overtaken her on the beach. In case someone had posted photos of her running away—or worse, Grant sucking face with Julia—she turned her phone off and shoved it in a drawer. She could hardly call her sisters to commiserate, because catching feelings for Grant Mason spectacularly breached their Spinster Pact. She could call her old roommates so they could remind her again how he’d treated them, but she couldn’t handle that level of embarrassment. She was supposed to be getting revenge for them, not joining the Golden Dumpster Victims Club.
She lay on her sofa upside-down, her legs slung over its back and her back against the seat cushion, as she argued in circles with her weak, pathetic self. She had no right to be jealous of Julia. It made no sense. She had never liked Grant. Their dates were fake. Outside of those dates, he had never done or said anything to cause her to think they weren’t fake. But, somehow, she’d apparently caught feelings anyway.
Her mind kept replaying how he’d leaned toward her for that California roll, and how he’d lovingly tucked those pillows around her. His nearness under the umbrella had made it hard for her to concentrate on anything but him. Allowing herself to picture his smile after he’d recovered from the wasabi shattered her heart into a million jagged pieces. She shoved her fingers into her hair and pulled on her curls till it hurt, trying to return reason to her thick skull.
Their. Dates. Were. Fake.
She understood now why he’d switched his major to theater, and that it hadn’t been to torture her. She could also appreciate the magnetism of his personal charm, which helped explain both why her roommates had fallen for him and why a person as renowned as Julia Menlo was sweet on him too.
As Ginny had said, playing the field in college was what college kids did. The fact that his “field” had included every one of her roommates was an unfortunate coincidence, but didn’t automatically make him a bad person. Every college student got dumped by someone, or dumped someone, or both.
Really, she needed to be rational about this. The dates were over, and she’d fulfilled her end of the deal, pretending to be the woman in the photograph. Julia’s contract with Mark Briddle must have expired, or she and Grant wouldn’t be able to kiss in public like that. This also meant that, from here on out, Julia and Grant would be free to display their relationship—their true affections for each other—publicly, and Sadie would have to deal with it. She’d especially have to get used to it given that all three of them would be working on the Surf Summer set together!
Accepting this reality, her breathing began to calm, until a little voice in her head replayed Grant’s words.
You’re the most talented actress I’ve ever seen, let alone known.
She covered her face with her palms and screamed into them. “Argh! So what if he likes your acting? You don’t need him. You don’t even want him. Yesterday , you hated him!” Like a toddler in a meltdown, she beat her fists against the couch cushions to either side of her as she kicked her legs against the back of the sofa. “ Yesterday !”
Even wearing enough UV protection to camp out on the sun, you’re the prettiest woman here—by a long shot.
Geez, he sure could pour it on, couldn’t he?
But neither logic nor tantrums were dislodging Grant from her brain. She swung herself upright on the couch and then slid onto the floor, landing in a seated yoga position. Meditation. That’s what she needed. Focusing on her breathing, she imagined a calming river, its blue waters flowing in bubbly rivulets across smooth, cool stones. Blue, blue waters, like Grant’s gorgeous eyes… Argh. Start over.
She imagined a high meadow. Butterflies balanced tenderly on wildflowers as a gentle breeze brushed against tall grasses. There, in the center of the meadow, stood a half-dressed, sandy haired hunk leaning against a boulder. Her eyes flew open. So much for a five-thousand-year-old spiritual discipline.
Stomping to the kitchen, she retrieved the next best thing after screaming and yoga—yogurt, of the chocolate frozen variety. Container in one hand and large spoon in the other, she climbed into bed with her laptop and pulled up Netflix. Julia Menlo rom coms were distinctly off limits, but there were plenty of other rom coms to watch. Or maybe a thriller or sci fi fit her mood better. After a movie, a sugar coma, and a good long sleep, she’d be back on track, focusing on her career while she ran out the clock on getting her million dollars.
Searching the options, she found one that would have earned the Great Aunt Lydia Man-Hating Seal of Approval. Thelma and Louise .