“Send me your invoice and find someone else to paddle,” she told him.
Thomas laughed as she turned to leave. “You know I will.”
For the first time in her life, Alanna Sandoval had no plan, no goal, no rungs to climb to reach her destiny. Instead, her future lay before her, dark and desolate. The only thing she knew was that she wanted to go home. Not to her cold, sterile condo in Silverlake. She needed to go home to Yucca Hills.
Ch. 23 Alanna
AlannamechanicallypilotedStellaback to Yucca Hills, switching lanes and merging onto highways, all while her mind struggled to compute her new reality.
Chip Rupert the Third had won. Fresh Perspective was gone. No, worse than gone. It now belonged to Chip. He would twist the company she’d built; pervert it and then destroy it.
Alanna pulled in a shaky breath.
She would not cry.
Chip wouldn’t get her tears.
She exited the highway and started down the long, winding road that would take her to Yucca Hills. On the passenger seat, her phone dinged with an incoming text. She glanced at the screen. The text from Renee included three question marks and a prayer emoji.
Yep. That.
She’d also let down all the employees who were depending on her. What would she tell them? That she’d tried her best? Her best couldn’t buy braces for Renee’s daughter or pay the rents of the other people Chip had fired. Alanna gripped the wheel so hard her fingers ached. Her best also wouldn’t pay the mortgage on her mother’s house.
That, too.
Her severance package was as gone as a cheerleader’s virginity on prom night. How much money did she even have left?
Alanna glided the car effortlessly around a sharp turn where the road hugged against a looming wall of granite and fell off just past a dented metal barrier. She should probably know her net worth, right? Except she didn’t. The money came in and went back out just as quickly. It paid for wine-soaked dinners at Michelin-starred restaurants with Thomas or a new Gucci purse, or the maid who tidied up her condo once a month.
Alanna gnawed on her bottom lip. How could she have been so stupid? After her upbringing, she should have been shoveling money into investment and retirement accounts with a forklift. But it’d felt so good to buy herself nice things. To order off a menu with no prices. To toss a black AMEX on the counter of a boutique shop and watch the commissioned salesgirls go at each other Hunger Games style to wait on her.
She had some savings, of course. But how long would it last?
As Alanna entered Yucca Hills, she looked longingly at The Rose and Thorn Winery sitting atop the highest hill in town. Yes, wine needed to happen. Could she order it by the bathtub? First, though, she wanted to go home and wash off the stink of Chip Rupert’s sleazy smile. Then she’d have to scrounge the courage to break the news of her failure to Renee and her other employees.
Alanna turned onto her mother’s street and was surprised to see Sully’s old car in the driveway. Even more surprising was the flush of warmth in her chest. What was Sully doing at the house? Maybe he’d needed to finish the last few items on her handyman list after scuttling out of the house when Dede interrupted their kiss yesterday. Or… maybe he was waiting for her.
The thought shot warm champagne bubbles through her stomach. That kiss.More please.She’d take a second helping, a third, a fourth. His lips had been both tender and hot, hungry and soft. How he managed those contradictions, she didn’t know, but she sure wanted to study the quandary more.
Then, she remembered that Sully knew about the arbitration from their convo. Why had she bared her soul to him? It’d been so easy. His warm, honest brown eyes were like a key to every hidden closet in her soul. Now, he’d take one look at her face and know what happened. That she was an utter failure.
She shouldn’t have cared. But she did. Why did he have to be so nice? So kind? So charmingly good-looking without even realizing it?
Alanna pulled into the driveway next to his car. She’d just bluff. She’d tell him she won the arbitration, that she’d be going back to L.A. soon. And then she’d… have to move to another state, delete all her social media accounts, and never visit her mother or sister ever again.
Worth it to save her pride.
Alanna tipped up her sunglasses to check her mascara in the rearview mirror. Still rock solid. She reached into her purse and dug out her lipstick. She watched herself in the mirror as she painted the blood-red hue across her lips.
She was still Alanna fucking Sandoval, after all, and she’d be damned if she’d let a too-handsome-for-his-own-good handyman feel an ounce of pity for her. Squaring her shoulders, Alanna shoved open her car door, grabbed her Hermès purse, and marched up the porch stairs. As soon as she swung open the front door, a nauseating odor slammed into her like brass-knuckled fists.
Gas.
The fumes of natural gas filled the house. They crawled down Alanna’s throat, causing her to gag. Her eyes started to leak like a faucet. She staggered toward the kitchen.
“Mom?” she croaked.
The room was empty. Alanna lunged at the stove and grappled with the knobs, twisting each to the right as hard as she could.
