Chapter Four
FOUR
HAILEY’S DAILY RULE FOR SUCCESS:
Never ignore your intuition—it’s your subconscious having your back.
Luxury vehicles pull up outside my house and a valet parks them along the side streets. Guests from movie stars to business professionals to philanthropists, dressed in fashionable clothes, blinged out in expensive jewelry, arrive and join the crowd in my backyard.
The party is already in full swing, as I always invite my previous clients half an hour early to instill FOMO in those arriving later. The impression of maybe not getting here early enough to secure my services creates urgency. Everyone wants what they can’t have.
Beautiful white lights, strung on swaying palm trees, illuminate the yard in a warm, welcoming, but sophisticated glow. A popular local DJ plays the latest hits, a bartender tends the outdoor bar, and servers, in black tie, rotate trays of champagne.
Only champagne is served at a Hailey Harris VIP party.
Guests mingle and chat around the pool deck. I zero in on one in particular and make my way toward her.
Alisha Jameeka, an up-and-coming, curvy-chic fashion designer whose TikTok shows featuring her creations are garnering close to a hundred thousand views. Not mind-blowing numbers, but enough to get my attention. Recognizing talent on the rise is one of my more natural gifts.
I also want to work with Alisha because I love her designs. They’re fresh, fun, and fantastic. Like the jumpsuit she’s wearing now. Classic black, off the shoulder, with a cinched waist. Stunning and shows off her natural curves.
“One of your designs, I assume,” I say as I stop next to her. She’s standing alone, clutching her champagne glass and looking nervous, slightly out of place.
She won’t be for long.
Alisha does a shy spin, showing off an open back and slightly flared leg. “Can’t find anything like this in my size anywhere in this city.”
“These should be everywhere.”
“I agree, but investors aren’t convinced,” she says with a hint of annoyance.
I move closer and clasp her hand in mine. “Investors will invest once the rest of the world does.”
She stares at me with a hint of desperation. “How do I make that happen?”
I connect my lifeline to hers and my visionary powers are activated.
Inside a posh hotel ballroom, cameras flash as a line of curvy-chic clothing is exhibited on the runway. Alisha stands next to the stage, looks on with pride as the collection is well received by attendees—fashion royalty and luxury brand execs. The next day’s style and fashion magazine sites have rave reviews.
I smile warmly at Alisha as I release her hand. “I can help you get to the next level.”
Her demeanor changes and she waves a hand. “Honestly, the clothing line is just a passion project.”
In addition to being super talented, she’s adorably modest, which makes her the absolute best type of client. Unfortunately, everyone is wary of the price tag without some sort of guarantee. They’d rather downplay their goals than invest in them.
“We both know that’s not true. You have dreams and you should chase them. I’m envisioning a collection at New York fashion week.”
Alisha laughs, shakes her head, but then her eyes meet mine—a flash of her dream reflecting in their dark depths. “You think you can make that happen?”
There it is. The desire for success in her tone.
“No. You can. With the right push. That’s where I come in.”
Alisha hesitates, tucking a strand of gorgeous dark hair behind one ear. Normally, I’d bring out the tough sell—remind Alisha that she’s posted her designs online to thousands of viewers and it’s only a matter of time until someone else steals her fabulous ideas and becomes a huge success, but that approach won’t work with her. Her confidence is still hanging in the balance—not quite at the level where she’ll believe in herself.
“You know most people don’t fear failure,” I say. “They fear success. As women we’ve been conditioned not to let our ambitions soar too high. Balancing what society expects from us with our own desires keeps us in a paralyzed state of mediocrity.”
Alisha breathes out as though I’ve just encapsulated her very existence. “You’re so right...but what if I fail?”
It’s times like these when I wish I could confide my secret—tell her with the utmost confidence that she won’t—but I’m afraid without that self-doubt, without that uncertainty, my clients won’t strive as hard to get where I’ve seen them.
That, and the fact that I’d be hauled off to the university science lab.
“Then we will fail fabulously together,” I say, extending my champagne glass to hers. We clink and the deal is set. Though I will be getting a contract to her ASAP. “Now...as promised, let’s record an announcement of our working partnership to your followers.”
Alisha reaches for her cell phone and we move closer and go live.
As we wrap up moments later, Alisha heads off to get another glass of champagne and now that I’ve warmed up with an easy one, I scan the yard for my next acquisition.
I frown. None of the athletes I personally invited are here. What the hell do I need to do to get their attention? I offered a free introductory session through their coaches and got ghosted. I reached out to managers and agents and got the same old brush-off. I just need one client to commit and the rest will follow, but the people calling the shots tend to be old-school. The psychology of the sport isn’t valued as much as the physical training.
Or...
I reach for my phone and open Spencer Stanley’s socials.
That fucking guy!
I scroll through photos of his own event this evening—a VIP booth at a baseball game. Pro basketball, football, and hockey players all in attendance, eating pizza, drinking beer, and posing for selfies with Spencer. Why didn’t I think of that?
Annoyed, I put the phone away, then spot Liam and Sonia arriving across the yard. Jealousy or longing? Not sure exactly how to label the emotion overshadowing my previous irritation. They both look fabulous—Liam in a suit, which has to be Sonia’s influence as he always refused to wear one with me. She’s dressed in a pale pink silk number with nothing underneath—not a trace of an undergarment anywhere. Elegant and fabulous. Liam’s eyeing her as though he can’t wait to get her out of here and out of the dress.
Definitely both—jealousy and longing.
“They make a cute couple, don’t they?”
Startled by the voice so close to my ear, the warm breath against my neck, I jump and spill my champagne. I turn and glare at Warren, who’s carrying a glass of whiskey on ice. “Who let you in here? And where did you get whiskey? It’s a champagne-only event.”
“I came with Liam and his adorable new fiancée, Sonia. And your bartender is a big football fan,” he says smugly, sipping the liquid.
I roll my eyes and prepare an earful, but Liam and Sonia join us, arms wrapped around one another.
“Hope it’s okay I invited him,” Liam says.
I suspect he has an ulterior motive. Maybe wanting Warren and me to settle this feud once and for all. Not likely.
“Of course...like a high school reunion,” I say with a tight smile.
“This place is fabulous. I can’t believe I’m here,” Sonia says excitedly.
Neither can I.
A popular song comes on and Sonia grips Liam’s hand—tugs him gently toward the pool deck dance area. “Come on. This is my favorite song.”
Liam resists and shakes his head. “You know I don’t dance.”
“Well, I do,” Warren says charmingly. He forces his glass into my hand and he and Sonia head off. Liam smiles as he watches and I can’t take my eyes off his handsome face. He’s clean-shaven tonight and the smell of his familiar cologne lingers on the breeze.
At least Sonia hasn’t changed one thing about him. Yet.
“She’s really incredible,” I say because it’s true even if I don’t love her being so incredible for him . Everything I’ve read online has only confirmed that she’s as genuine as she is beautiful. Sure, not everything is as it appears and everyone has skeletons in their closet...but I’m not sure if I’m up to the challenge of discovering Sonia’s. I’m still having trouble believing that Liam will actually go through with this lifelong commitment. How could one woman over five months reprogram a lifetime of anti-marriage views?
As lovely as they seem together, I give the relationship another three months before Liam freaks out and calls off the engagement.
“She’s obsessed with you and she likes me more because I know you, so thank you for that,” he says, sipping his champagne and grimacing at the taste.
“Does she know you’re lying about the whole no dancing thing? I seem to remember your mom putting you in ballroom lessons.” He’d hated every minute of it, but his football-obsessed mom had heard that dancing, yoga, and Pilates could make him a better player, so she’d enrolled him in all three. With the added bonus of pissing off her ex-husband.
“Actually, those will probably pay off,” he says with a small nod. “I plan to surprise Sonia with my dancing skills at the wedding.” Liam sips his drink as though he hopes the liquid has miraculously become something else, unaware of my panic.
“Wedding?”
He glances at me with a smirk. “Typically what follows an engagement, Hails.”
“But not anytime too soon, right? I mean, you two just met.” I know that from my cyber stalking. Sonia’s relationship status changed around Christmas. I resist the urge to point out that relationships formed during the holidays are often influenced by the joy of the season—all the romantic songs and magical lights...and don’t get me started on the effect of mistletoe.
“But when you know, you know, right? We want to get married before breaking ground on her family’s new resort,” he says but there’s definitely a hint of resistance in his voice, confirming my suspicions. “We’re thinking Labor Day weekend and we’d obviously love for you to come.”
That’s a big fuck no. “Wow...” Too fast but what can I say? We’ve only just reconnected. It’s none of my business. “I’m so darn happy for you.” I gulp Warren’s whiskey and Liam looks at me with admiration.
“I’m really happy for you too. You did it, Hails.”
“You sound surprised.”
“It’s just a wild industry... But I never should have doubted you.” Liam touches my hand and I instinctively turn my palm to connect our lifelines. It’s never worked in the past but maybe with time and distance...
Liam sits at a desk, divorce papers in front of him along with an employment contract termination from Banks Resorts. He looks destroyed and heartbroken. He picks up a whiskey bottle and throws it across the room. It shatters...
And so does my glimpse.
I stumble back slightly, shocked. I’ve never been able to see Liam’s future before—not when we were in love. And the realization that the lingering attraction I have for him is more surface level than deep longing doesn’t completely surprise me. But what does alarm me is what I saw in his future. To say I’m surprised that his current relationship is doomed would be lying, but actually seeing it...
Liam looks at me in concern. “You okay?”
“Um...yeah. Great.”
I fight to calm my racing pulse as I stare across the yard at Sonia, laughing and dancing with Warren. Liam is enamored as he watches his fiancée glow in the string lights reflecting off the pool. The yard spins slightly beneath my feet as I’m spiraling in moral conflict. I should never have looked into Liam’s future, but I did.
So, what the hell do I do now?
I have to admit, I was expecting a replica of Barbie’s Dreamhouse complete with a topiary H near a swimming pool with a pink slide, but Hailey’s home is surprisingly tasteful. At least the exterior is. And despite my dislike of the woman, I do feel a tinge of happiness for her. I know that her life hasn’t always looked this way.
I’d always found it strange that she never had any family at school events or hosted a party as long as I’d known her. She’d kept to herself before she started dating Liam in junior year, and she wasn’t like a lot of the other girls at school—rich, popular, privileged, and prissy. She had a down-to-earth vibe that intrigued me.
One day, walking home late after football practice, I saw her boarding a bus heading to the east side of town. So I jumped on and sat as far away from her as possible, just to see where she was heading and a bit because my protective instincts took over—the east side wasn’t a place most sixteen-year-old girls liked to go alone.
When I saw her get off the bus and climb the stairs to a run-down apartment building, it confirmed my suspicion that there were things Hailey was desperate to keep hidden from her friends and school officials.
I never said a word to anyone.
I mean, do I think a five-bedroom, four-bathroom, four-thousand-square-foot home is a bit much for one single person? Absolutely. But I have to hand it to her, she does know a lot of influential people.
As I lead Sonia toward the poolside “dance floor,” I spot a local politician and his wife sitting with their feet dangling in the pool, and several actors I recognized but wouldn’t be able to name if my life depended on it were standing near the bar.
“There are so many important people here,” Sonia says, sounding almost giddy.
“ The Sonia Banks is here, so I’d say so, yeah,” I say with a wink as we start to dance to the hip-hop beat. I met her an hour ago and already I think she’s fantastic. The fact that she’s intimidated to be here says a lot about her. She’s the heir to a luxury resort chain and yet she’s unpretentious and sweet. Liam is a lucky guy. This relationship definitely fits him so much better than the one with Hailey.
I look across the yard and an odd feeling strikes my gut as the two of them laugh and chat together. According to Liam they haven’t really kept in touch over the years, but they look a little too comfortable. The uneasiness is for Sonia’s sake, obviously.
I mean Hailey’s hot—especially in the knee-length, pale blue dress with a high neckline that accentuates her curves and shows off a classy, modest amount of fantastic legs, but she’s far from my type.
Sonia catches my gaze and sighs. “I have a lot to live up to, don’t I?”
Damn. Is that what she thinks? “Sonia, believe me when I say this—there’s no competition.”
She laughs gently as I take her hand and spin her around, sounding genuinely relieved to hear it. “You’re Liam’s best friend, so I’m going to trust you on that.”
“You should. I’ve known Liam since we were five years old and I know he’s totally in love with you.”
My gaze locks on Hailey and the unsettled feeling refuses to subside. She’s standing just a little too close and Liam’s a little too fixated on her. I spin Sonia again so that she doesn’t have a view of it.
“What’s the deal with you two?” she asks. “I mean, I heard about the airport incident, but that was a while ago...”
Not long enough. “It’s more than that... She just...” What? How do I explain my feelings about Hailey? I have every reason to be annoyed by her and dislike her, but it’s almost deeper than that. I can’t really understand the feelings she evokes and it’s best that we steer clear of one another. “She’s just aggravating and I don’t know why. She’s just like ‘errrr.’” I clench my fists and shake them. “You know?”
“Honestly? No. I think she’s so fantastic.”
“Then her marketing is paying off,” I say, sending another glance Hailey’s way. She takes a sip of my whiskey and another wave of unlabeled emotions swirl through me. Primarily annoyance—get your own unauthorized whiskey. But also the same slight arousal I felt around her at the high school when I see her lick the rim of the glass to catch the drops. Apparently, my biggest turn-on is irritation.
“You don’t believe she deserves all the hype?” Sonia asks.
“She’s made a huge success of herself and good for her.” I shrug. “I don’t know, I just think this whole influencer, life coach thing is a scam. I mean, she’s essentially helping rich people get richer.”
Sonia eyes me with a hint of a sly smile. “That’s what she portrays online.”
“What do you mean?” I’m curious despite my better judgment.
“She only posts about her professional clients, but she’s worked with a lot of people from all walks of life. She once helped a veteran who’d been living in Santa Monica and experiencing homelessness to launch a transition program.”
Okay, so that’s a little unexpected.
“And she helped a single mom start a daycare chain in Santa Clarita after her husband died. At no charge, by the way.” Sonia casts an admiring glance toward Hailey. “She doesn’t publicize those things.”
Damn, that’s actually pretty cool of her.
I force away any admiration I might be inclined to entertain. Safer to keep my preconceived notions about her in check.
She may do some altruistic work, but it doesn’t diminish the fact that she essentially manipulates people into believing they need some secret wisdom only she possesses to succeed in life.
We continue to dance, but as the song comes to an end, my gaze shifts across the yard toward Hailey and Liam again. They’ve moved slightly closer and their faces are illuminated by the white backyard lights overhead.
There’s a moment—something—between them. Their gazes locked on one another, Hailey’s hand resting casually on Liam’s—a long beat...
Then Hailey swings her gaze back this way as though sensing they’ve been caught in a moment, and it’s then that I see it.
The same look on her face from that day at the airport. Right before she blew up my life.