Island Affair (Keys to Love #1) - Priscilla Oliveras Page 0,9
passenger airplane rumbled down the runway, a glaring reminder that she had less than three hours to figure something out.
The ticking clock forced her hand, precipitating her bold plan.
“Long story short. Or longer,” she said, once the plane had lifted off and the jet engine noise faded. “In my family’s eyes I’ve never really been thought of as capable of living up to the Vance potential. Things that came easily to my siblings were harder for me, academically speaking. In my mother’s words, sometimes expectations have to be lowered. You know, to avoid disillusion.”
She waited for the telltale disquiet to flare. The burning deep in her belly that usually spurred panic clawing at her chest, sucking the breath out of her. Pushing her to make those bad decisions.
Only, the burning didn’t appear. A dull ache pressed on her heart. Painful, but manageable. She sucked in a cleansing breath like she’d been taught. Finally able to subdue the trigger.
It had taken her a long time to reach a place where she could talk, even think, about the memories and behaviors that had originally spawned her symptoms without fearing the unhealthy repercussions she brought on herself. Kudos to her therapists, and Sara’s own hard work, for her ability to speak so frankly with Luis now.
“That’s gotta hurt,” he said. “I mean, no kid, even an adult one, gets feel-good vibes from a loved one who’s busy drawing attention to their shortcomings rather than their talents.”
She nodded.
Luis rolled his lips together, compassion evident in his gentle expression.
“They don’t mean it in a hateful way,” Sara explained, knowing she wasn’t supposed to make excuses for others, but also aware of her own role in their messed-up family dynamics. “I know my family loves me. They just don’t ‘get’ me and what I do. Happens with a lot of people.” Elbows bent, she spread her palms up and gave a self-deprecating shrug. “I mean, I’m not a physician, but I’m supporting myself with a successful small business. One I’m working on expanding in the near future. So, it’s all good.”
“What exactly is this non-potential-reaching career of yours?”
“I’m a social media influencer.”
A confused frown wedged Luis’s brows together. His head tilted like he was trying to make sense of something, and she practically heard his unspoken huh?
“I have a fashion, beauty, and lifestyle blog that’s tied to my own YouTube channel and Instagram,” she clarified. “We hit over five hundred thousand followers earlier this year.”
He blinked, but his lack of recognition remained obvious.
Interesting.
Sara tucked her hair behind her ear, considering Luis in a new light.
With most people, at this point they’d start peppering her with questions, often asking for tips on taking selfies. If they followed her, there was typically a favorite post, product, or location they wanted to know more about. Of course, there were also those angling to see how her name recognition could help them in some way. She’d learned the hard way to steer clear of them.
The idea that Luis didn’t fall into any of those categories added another notch in his favor. A small measure of relief for her nervous qualms over the request she sought.
“I guess tough-guy firefighters with monster trucks aren’t really my target demographic,” she admitted. “So, it’s doubtful you would have seen my Insta ads or promo come across your feed.”
He shook his head. “Naw, I don’t have a feed. I’m not really into social media. Too much hype and oversharing.”
“Great,” she muttered. “You’ll get along marvelously with my family then.”
“Meaning.”
“In their eyes, my career lacks stability.” She waved a hand nonchalantly, as if their disregard didn’t matter. She knew better. “They think it’s time I settled down. Found a partner with a more reliable career. Preferably someone who meets with my parents’ approval, who they think can take care of me. Which I don’t need but does lead to my current predicament. And you.”
She tipped her head toward him.
Luis squinted up at her. The strong and silent bit she’d found appealing earlier now had her anxious and uncertain. The man’s even-keeled demeanor made it very difficult to tell what he thought about the gross amount of oversharing she’d practically word vomited at his feet.
Rolling her suitcase off to the side, Sara stepped closer to him, desperation pushing her to up her persuasive game. “Here’s the bottom line. My invincible mom has been battling a nearly invincible foe for a while now. But she finished her chemo and was recently declared ‘cancer-free.’ Her doctors have ordered rest