or did it happen because I wasn’t there and Neil was?” I cut her off. “You’ve had a long time to get your story straight.”
“It was both.” She started to cry and as much as I wished it didn’t affect me, it did.
I’d always hated seeing her upset. And even now my heartstrings were pulled. I wanted to hug her and tell her it was okay. Frustration, mostly at myself, bubbled up in me.
“Thanks for stopping by and clearing that up, Rach.” With that I walked into the bay and out the side door. I didn’t look back to see if she was still there or if she was still crying. I didn’t care. Or at least, I wished I didn’t care.
Chapter 9
Sasha
“You’re so pale ya look like you’ve been playin’ hide-n-seek with the sun.”
~ Barbara-Jean Nelson
I looked at myself in the mirrored wall that surrounded the fireplace. My eyes puffy and my face was swollen, giving me an even rounder shape than usual. Thank God for messy buns, there was no way that I would’ve been able to tame my hair into submission. My complexion looked a little less pukey than it had thanks to a CC moisturizer and a dash of bronzer and highlighter.
I’d thrown on cutoff jean shorts, a loose-fitting white V-neck tee that was tucked into the front of my shorts and fell off of one shoulder revealing the strap of my salmon-colored lace bralette that I wore beneath it. And I’d slipped on my gladiator sandals. With my basket of muffins in hand, it was a very Farmer’s Market vibe.
I wasn’t the best I’d ever looked, but it was passable.
My head was still pounding as I opened the back door and pushed the screen. The aggressive brightness of the morning slammed into my head like a Mack truck. I winced and turned my head like a vampire exposed to sunlight. I noted my movement and the way I was feeling in case I ever played a vampire. That truly was the beauty of my job. No matter what circumstance I faced, I could always use it for my craft.
After I pulled my oversized glasses out of my purse and slid them on, I sighed with relief. “Much better.”
It felt strange walking out of the house without having a car to go to, or a phone that was working. I felt very much like a fish out of water. I wasn’t even sure where the fire station was. Muffins in hand, I ventured out onto the street and looked right then left. At the end of the block, I saw a two-story building that I guessed was most likely the fire station.
I inhaled the fresh, country air and hoped that it would act as a balm to my rumbling tummy. A memory of me pouring two mini bottles of Absolute in my punch flashed in my brain and my stomach rolled. Never again. Vodka was not my friend. I’d never been a big drinker, and this was why. Even if it was just a glass of wine with dinner, my body felt like I had the flu the next day. I’d never been a party girl.
A large part of the reason was that I’d been on Sunset Bay since I was nineteen years old. When my peers were out partying, I’d been home memorizing ten to twenty pages of dialogue a night.
My legs were still a little wobbly as I crossed the street to the firehouse.
An attractive blonde woman who looked familiar was walking down the driveway. She smiled, but there was something behind her smile that made me feel like not only was she surprised to see me there, she was also not that happy about it.
“Sasha?” She said my name like someone I’d spoken to before, not like she was just a fan. I was wracking my brain to figure out what our interaction could’ve been. “What are you doing here?”
Coming up blank as to who she was, I pasted on my friendliest smile. I must’ve seen her at the wedding, but I had no recollection of us speaking. My gut and her behavior were telling me that we had, though. I felt like the memory of our interaction was floating around in my subconscious, but for the life of me I just couldn’t reach out and grab it. After several seconds of searching the back catalog of memories I gave up and lifted the basket of muffins. “I’m here to drop these off