Chapter 15
15
PORTIA
I should have expected this. Ever since I came back to town, I’d felt like people were all up in my business. The articles, the whispers, the endless questions about my career—and now, about Dean. I couldn’t figure out why they cared so much. Boredom, most likely. Small towns thrived on drama, and I’d apparently become the main attraction.
Fresh meat.
That was what I was. They just couldn’t help themselves. Add in my back story and my flight too close to the sun and people were eating it up. I had dragged myself out of the small town and they hated me for it. Now that I was back, they were loving my fall from grace. Was I ever in grace? I didn’t think so. If I was, I didn’t put myself there. Someone else did that.
I peeked out the window. I didn’t see Dean out and about. That was good. I felt childish hiding from him, but I wasn’t ready to face him. I was still feeling the burn of being rejected. He got us halfway there and then changed his mind. That was a bit of a blow to the ego. Did he not like what he felt? Was it the way I kissed? Did I stink? Were my boobs weird?
I shook off the thoughts. It was on him. I was glad he stopped things. It saved me from worse regret. When I didn’t see him out and about, I quickly escaped and started the walk into town. The place was packed. I was glad I didn’t try to drive. The traffic was ridiculous.
I walked into Alexis’s shop feeling like I had just run a gauntlet. Alexis looked up from the counter, her face lighting up with a grin.
“Hey, you. What are you doing here?”
I shrugged. “I was bored.”
“I was just getting ready to close up.”
“It’s crazy out there,” I said.
“The festival,” she said.
“The what?”
“The Lake Festival!” She laughed.
I blink, confused. “The what now?”
Alexis rolled her eyes, grabbed a flyer, and waved it in the air. “You know. The big annual summer event? Boats, bonfires, fireworks, entire town getting a little too tipsy on the water? You have to remember from when you were here.”
I hesitated, staring at the flyer in my hands. Lake Festival. Right. I couldn’t believe I forgot. I used to love it as a kid. The smell of popcorn and sunscreen, the sound of laughter echoing across the lake, the way the fireworks lit up the sky. It was magical. It was the event of the summer. Teens and pre-teens wore their best outfits and hung out in packs. It was the oldest mating ritual. I actually had my first kiss at the festival almost fifteen years ago.
But now? Things felt different. The article. The auction. The kiss with Dean. People were already talking, already making assumptions about why I was back in town and what was happening with me and Dean and my job. Did I really want to step into the center of all that? The Lake Festival would definitely leave me very exposed. It would be walking into a feeding frenzy.
Alexis saw right through me. “If you’re avoiding this because of a certain broody mechanic, I swear?—”
“I’m not,” I said, cutting her off.
Alexis arched a brow. “Oh? So if I tell you Dean Jackson is probably gonna be there, that doesn’t change anything?”
I didn’t answer.
Alexis grinned. “That’s what I thought.”
I groaned, running a hand through my hair. “It’s not about him. I don’t want to deal with the stares, that’s all. The small-town gossip. The ‘oh, look who came crawling back’ bullshit. That reporter, Lila Sinclair, will be there. She’s going to be hoping to catch me doing something so she can write about it. I don’t want to give her any fuel.”
Alexis leaned on the counter, tapping her fingers. “You can let them talk, or you can pull up your big girl panties and stop caring what they think. Screw Lila. She’s just jealous.”
I exhaled, sinking into a chair. “You make it sound so easy.”
Alexis laughed. “That’s because it is. Go. Have fun. Show them that Portia Watson is back, and she’s not going anywhere. Let them talk. Don’t go into hiding. That just lets her win.”
Maybe it was time to stop caring what people thought about me. Maybe it was time to face the town and my future. Running from it wasn’t getting me anywhere.
She was right—of course she was. Hiding away wasn’t going to change anything. If anything, it just gave people more reasons to speculate about me. What did I care if they talked? Let them whisper. Let them stare. I wasn’t going to let Lila Sinclair or anyone else dictate how I lived my life.
“Alright,” I said. “You win. I’ll go. But if Lila corners me, I’m blaming you.”
Alexis grinned. “Deal. And if she does, just remind her that her last article about the ‘scandalous return of Portia Watson’ read like she needs a freaking life. She’s not exactly winning any journalism awards here.”
I laughed, feeling a little lighter already. “Fair point.”
“Now, we need to get you festival ready. You can’t show up looking like you just rolled out of bed.”
I glanced down at my outfit—a simple tank top and jeans—and shrugged. “What’s wrong with this?”
She gave me a look that could only be described as mildly horrified. “Everything,” Alexis said, dragging me toward the back of the shop. “This is the Lake Festival , Portia. You need to look like you’re ready to own the town, not like you’re about to mow the lawn.”
She rummaged through a rack of dresses, pulling out a few options and holding them up to me. I groaned. “Seriously, Alexis, I don’t need to dress up. It’s not a fashion show.”
“It’s definitely a fashion show,” she shot back. “Especially for you. You’re Portia Watson. You’ve been gone for years, and now you’re back. People are going to be watching. Might as well give them something to talk about that doesn’t involve Dean Jackson or your career.”
I sighed but didn’t argue further. She was right, as much as I hated to admit it. If I was going to face the town, I might as well do it looking like I had my life together—even if I felt the opposite.
“Here,” she said, thrusting a pretty sundress into my hands. “Try this on.”
I retreated to the fitting room and slipped into the dress. It was lightweight with a neckline that was just daring enough to feel confident without being over the top. The soft floral print made me feel lighter, somehow. Like maybe I wasn’t just the girl who had come crawling back home.
When I stepped out, Alexis clapped her hands together. “Perfect. You look incredible.”
I glanced at myself in the mirror and felt a small spark of something I hadn’t felt in a while—pride. “Thanks,” I said quietly. “For this, and for pushing me to go. I needed it.”
She waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t mention it. Now, let’s get you some shoes and accessories. You can’t wear sneakers with that.”
By the time we were done, I barely recognized myself. The dress, paired with strappy sandals and a delicate necklace Alexis insisted I borrow, made me feel like a completely different person. Someone who wasn’t afraid of a few stares or whispers. Someone who could walk into the Lake Festival and hold her head high.
We went upstairs so Alexis could change. There was no way I was going to be the only one dressed up. I didn’t want people to think I was trying to look pretty. That would just spark another article from little Miss Lila.
When we got to the festival, it was already in full swing. The beach was packed with people, the air filled with the smell of grilled food and the sound of laughter. I was trying to pretend like everything was cool, but it was hard when I could feel eyes on me from every direction.
I forced a smile, and with Alexis beside me, we made our way over to the lemonade stand and bought a couple.
I sipped my lemonade, the tartness sharp on my tongue, and tried to ignore the way people’s heads turned as Alexis and I walked through the crowd. I could feel their eyes on me, hear the whispers that trailed in my wake.
Alexis elbowed me gently. “Head up, shoulders back. You’ve got this.”
I nodded, forcing a smile just as Mrs. Hargrove, who’d been my eighth-grade English teacher, approached with her husband in tow. “Portia Watson! My goodness, it’s been years. How are you, dear?”
Her tone was warm, but I couldn’t help but notice the way her eyes flickered over me, like she was assessing every detail of my appearance. Looking for cracks , I thought.
“I’m doing well, Mrs. Hargrove,” I said with a smile. “It’s good to be back.”
“Well, it’s nice to see you,” she said, before moving along.
We ended up running into a group of people I didn’t know but they seemed to be Alexis’s friends.
“So,” one of them said in that way that said it was going to be a catty or invasive question. “How does it feel to be back in town?”
I forced another smile. “It’s… different.”
“I bet,” she said, her eyes narrowing. “I heard you and Dean Jackson have been spending a lot of time together.”
I stiffened, my grip tightening on my cup. “There was that whole auction thing, but we’ve just talked a few times. That’s it.”
The girl raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “Uh-huh. Well, if you ask me, you could do worse.”
I didn’t respond, just took another sip of my lemonade. If only they knew what happened the other night. I had the forethought to put a little makeup on the hickey. It had faded, but in the dress, it would have been visible without a coverup.
Alexis shot me a sympathetic look. “So, who’s ready for the fireworks?”
I appreciated her attempt to change the subject. I flashed her a grateful look. She winked in response. The group quickly shifted their attention to the upcoming show. I breathed a sigh of relief. But the reprieve didn’t last long.
“Portia,” a familiar voice called. I turned to see Seth Jackson walking toward me, a smirk on his face.
“Seth,” I said, my voice tight.
“Hey,” he said, stopping in front of me. “Didn’t think you would be here.”
“Why not?” I asked nonchalantly. “Am I not allowed?”
Seth chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Didn’t say that. Just figured you’d be holed up somewhere, avoiding the whole town. Saw that article. Thought maybe you would want to avoid Lila.”
I shrugged. “No big deal.”
“Right.” His smirk deepened. I could feel his eyes lingering on me in a way that made my skin crawl. He’d always been like this—charming on the surface, but there was something about the way he looked at me that felt off. “So, you and my brother been catching up?”
The question caught me off guard, and I felt a flicker of panic. “Nope.”
“Go away, Seth,” Alexis said. “Be lame somewhere else.”
Seth laughed but thankfully he walked away.
“Once an asshole, always an asshole,” I said.