Chapter 36 Elizabeth
ELIZABETH
@pancakesareelite:
What do you do when you don’t want to do something but you also have to?
@theanswerisno:
Oh, it’s simple really.
I let it consume me until I become a husk of a person who can’t do anything, including the thing I need to do, but not excluding all the other stuff I could have been doing if I just did that one awful thing
@theanswerisno:
How about you?
@pancakesareelite:
Oh, I dive in headfirst and almost always regret it, but then I get to tick it off. I like to get stuff done
@theanswerisno:
You’ll get me killed
@pancakesareelite:
Yeah, maybe, but then we can mark it as done *tick*
I sent the drawings off to the printer and rested my aching head against the desk. I’d been staring at my screen nonstop for almost ten hours. But it was better than facing the hurricane of emotions fighting for attention inside me.
I grabbed my phone. Should I text Lincoln and apologize that I’d be imposing, or should I message Link and apologize for ambushing him?
Once again, I decided on neither. I had to do this face-to-face.
A message popped up from an unsaved number.
Elizabeth, could we get your comment on this? Moonlight Media would love to hear about your experiences as a working girl.
There was a link attached, and my heart dropped down to the depths of my abdomen. I could see the preview, and with every read word, an old, cold presence seemed to circle me.
Douglas Gordon-Bettencourt’s daughter Elizabeth has left Hollywood and is pursuing a career in engineering. The CEO of GB Productions tells us about the hard decisions parents have to make in order to help their kids, no matter how old they get.
I exited and slammed my phone face down on the desk. I couldn’t read it. I didn’t want to read anything he’d said about me. I stood, straightened my skirt, and wobbled over to the printer. Was everyone watching me? Had they seen the article?
There was no reason to believe they’d see it. It was fine. It was all fine.
But when my gaze accidentally met Cedric’s, I knew it wasn’t fine. His smug smile was now locked and loaded, and there was nothing I could do to protect myself from the words that would be fired.
“I made fun of you for placing seventh, but considering how screwed up you are, it’s actually impressive.”
Ignoring him, I grabbed the drawing and motored toward Mr. Anders’s office. The sooner he could approve everything, the sooner I’d be out of here.
But when I entered Mr. Anders’s office, I knew the last of my luck had completely run out.
“Gordon-Bettencourt…” He shook his head. “You lived quite a colorful life before coming here, didn’t you? It’s not a great look for Simucon, but there’s no such thing as bad publicity. I just hope you know we’re not as forgiving as your father. Mistakes in this industry kill people.”
“I’m aware,” I said, my mind spinning. I should have known that awful man would have retaliated when I turned Alistair away.
Anders scrutinized the drawings in total silence and then rolled them up. When he looked at me, the modicum of respect I’d earned was gone. “Off you go.”
I mumbled my thanks and rushed home, keeping my head low.
By the time I got home, another message came through from another news outlet. It wouldn’t stop there. Every time Douglas mentioned me publicly, my phone would light up for days. There was a reason I couldn’t have any social media accounts.
Pushing all of this out of my mind, I focused on packing my bag as quickly as I could. I couldn’t think clearly. I just needed to get away. It reminded me of the day everything changed, and I’d fled with the few things that could fit in my trunk.
Shaking the thought, I grabbed my bag and hustled downstairs.
The sun was already setting with an orange haze peeking through the gray.
I turned my headlights on and listened to the voice on my navigator.
Even though I’d driven this route with Lincoln last week, I hadn’t been paying attention to the road.
I’d been looking at him. At his silly smile and messy black curls.
I’d stared at the small mole he had on his neck.
The one I’d since kissed. How was I meant to care for the route when inches away was Lincoln’s large hand tightened around the stick shift?
These were not the thoughts I was meant to be having. But they were better than everything else I could think of.
The night grew darker, and streetlights became few and far between. I turned on my high beams and widened my eyes as though it would help me see better.
It was hard to tell where I was. Tall trees lined the roads and now and again there was a small cabin. It would make for a wonderful resort. But beyond that, the moon was the only thing guiding me.
At some point, the tarred road gave way to gravel. I’d forgotten a good portion of this drive was on unpaved roads that were much easier to navigate in Lincoln’s truck. Coo was capable but not happy to drive across it for long distances. Plus it shook the living daylights out of me.
I took a bend, and the car skidded. Panic rose up my spine.
Slower. I needed to go slower.
Only another six miles. It wasn’t much. According to my maps it was… okay, my maps were offline. That wasn’t great, but before I’d lost signal, it didn’t look that far away.
Instinctively, I accelerated, wanting to get there quicker. The car slid underneath me, sending the icy grip of fear up my spine. Okay, okay, okay, I would crawl there. Slow and steady. At this rate, it would take an hour to get there, but I’d rather be late and be alive.
The winding road seemed endless, and my eyes were focused on the small area lit up in front of me.
The blur of a brown rabbit flashed across the road, and I swerved.
The sharp, quick movement of my car threw my stomach in one direction and my body in another as it shifted across the gravel once more.
I held on to the steering wheel, doing my best to control the unwanted movement.
I screamed. Even though no one would hear it.
I shut my eyes and my body froze. The sensation of falling pierced my gut while the car dipped unexpectedly.
I slammed the brake and everything stopped.
Except my racing heart. I had no control over my limbs, everything was shaking, shivering, and all I wanted to do was curl up and have someone else take the wheel. Literally.
But there was no one else here and I hadn’t seen any other cars on this road for miles.
I opened my eyes to the small area my headlights illuminated and blew out a long breath. Extending my foot, I tentatively pushed down on the accelerator. The car roared, groaned, and grunted, but it didn’t move.
No. No. No. Panic swirled in my chest. I took out my phone to call someone. Anyone. The list was slim.
I scrolled down to Lincoln’s name and hit call.
But I had no service.