Wild Open Hearts (Bluewater Billionaires) - Kathryn Nolan Page 0,105
I said, preparing to say goodbye. Alissa handed me her business card with a smile.
“We’re not a mega-corporation like Fischer. But we’re women-run, independent. A lot of things we sell are eco-conscious. Vegan. Wild Heart might be the right fit for our stores. We’ve been looking for a cosmetics line to feature.”
“In Ruby’s Closet?” I asked, incredulous. They were way smaller than Fischer but I admired them so much more. “I’ve, I mean, I’ve always been a huge fan of your store.”
“Maybe Wild Heart should contract with a business that matches your values better,” Alissa said. Then she gave me a wave before walking away.
Through the fog of sadness shone a small ray of light. A direction. Sylvia would love it.
I loved it.
I went to step into the car when suddenly Jasmine appeared, looking dour as ever and strapped to her phone. But she did perk up a bit when she saw me.
“People loved you,” she said. And she wasn’t wrong. “Can you do a couple more interviews with the news before you leave?”
“No, I’m going home,” I said. I felt slimy enough already. “Jasmine, I need to ask you a question,” I said. She was still staring at her screen. Ignoring me. “Jasmine.”
My tone was sharp enough that she looked up. “What?”
“Did you tell Beck that he was only ever going to hold me back?”
She swallowed. “I mean… yes. It’s true though.”
“So… Beck just dumped me.”
There it was—a gleam of victory in her eyes.
“Which I’m guessing might have been your plan for this evening all along.”
“Like you two were going to last?” She laughed, but with me, like I was going to join her. Like we were going to cackle the night away, laughing at poor Beck. “You can be real with me, Luna. You don’t have to pretend anymore.”
I tapped my fingers on the door. Tilted my head like a hawk. “Okay. I won’t pretend anymore. You’re fired, Jasmine.”
Her face registered total shock. “Excuse me?”
“We’re on different journeys,” I said with mock sympathy. “I don’t want you on mine. Love and light.” I flashed her a peace sign and slipped into the car. She was outraged, yelling at me as we drove away.
“Can you take me to my house, please?” I asked my driver. But my voice broke on house.
I sat back. Let the tears fall freely.
You’ll be here soon, Emily had texted. We’ve got you.
Which I needed, desperately. Because the only man I’d ever loved didn’t love me back.
And when we finally pulled up, they were standing there, like they had that night three weeks ago. The Charlie’s Angels of Friendship. They scooped me up and took me inside, listening to my tale of woe. Our breakup. Beck’s face in the crowd. The audience applause. His mother. Jasmine.
They ran me a hot bath and plopped me right into it. Poured me a glass of wine. Held my hands as I cried.
“I’m already prepping the yacht with corn chips and spin instructors with vegetable names,” Daisy said. I half-giggled, half-sobbed. “Just say the word. You ever been to a private island owned by a European prince? I’ll take you and your spin instructors there.”
“Corn chips sound nice,” I hiccupped.
“Shhhh,” Cameron said, handing me an open bag. “We’ll go spend way too much money on lingerie tomorrow, okay?”
I nodded. Ate a corn chip. Felt worse.
“I know you abhor violence, Moon. But the three of us will junk-punch anyone you tell us to.” Emily stroked my hair in a gesture so maternal it caused another wave of tears. “You want to make a list? We’ll clear our morning schedules.”
“I love you guys,” I said.
“We love you forever,” Cameron promised.
58
Luna
Two weeks later
The Wilson Family Center was a cheerful-looking building with a white picket fence outside and a wildflower garden spilling over with blossoms. A row of palm trees in the front gave it a sense of privacy from the busy street out front.
Christian, the program manager, waited with Sylvia and me while my driver came to grab us.
“We’re really happy you both could make it,” he said. “The kids here love Wild Heart. They’re big followers of yours on social media. It’d be extra special if the funding we need for our new kitchen came from the Wild Heart Foundation.”
“I agree,” I said. “Submit your application by next month and I’ll have the board take an extra special look at it. Also, the makeup skills displayed in this tiny house put me to shame.”