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My heart sinks.
“Are we giving those out now?” Brooke cries. She takes hold of my hand, looking up at me gleefully.
I glance toward Jett, who’s standing a few feet away, deep in conversation on his phone with his back to me. I scan the room for backup, but his brothers are nowhere to be found. It’s just me, the servers, and the magician, who looks like he’s already mentally checked out.
I glance at my watch in shock. It's three o'clock. I can still go home, shower, and get ready for my night. I can still make the concert, but I won't have time to wash and straighten my hair. All is not lost.
“Yes, we are. C'mon on. Let's get it done quickly.”
The magician gets the kids to form a line, thank God, and they wait patiently as Brooke helps me hand out the bags. She's smiling and happy, and that is worth every minute of me being here.
The parents trickle in right on cue, perfectly punctual, perfectly polished. Brooke hugs me tightly and tells me it was the best party she's ever had. Those words mean everything to me.
Then Jett calls me a taxi and I walk out, finally heading home to get ready.
I jolt up with a start. Then rub my eyes as I look around the room.
I fell asleep.
In a panic, I jump up from the couch and find my phone.
I have eight missed calls from Eliana. My stomach twists. There are no texts, but the voicemail icon mocks me for missing the calls.
I don't bother getting changed. I haven't showered, but I slip on my boots and rush out, flagging down a taxi. I pray I can still make it. The concert starts soon. No time for pre-show drinks now, but maybe I can still salvage the evening.
Sliding into the backseat, I hit play on the first voicemail. Eliana’s voice fills the silence, sharp with irritation.
“Hey, it’s me. You’re not picking up. Why are you not picking up? We have a concert to go to, or has being in Jett Knight’s orbit turned your brain to mush again?” she snaps.
My chest tightens. She’s pissed. Of course she’s pissed. I check the timestamp. She sent it at four. I scroll to the next voicemail, sent twenty minutes later.
“I knew this would happen. It always does! Why aren’t you answering your phone?”
Her frustration is louder now, cutting deeper. My stomach knots. The final voicemail plays, the one that confirms what I already know.
“That’s it. I’ve had it with you, Car. I didn’t hear back, so I’m taking Bianca. I can’t risk you bailing on me. She’ll pay you for the ticket, even if she doesn’t like the music, but she’s a good friend, so she’s coming. You have fun with the Knights.”
I slump back against the seat, my jaw dropping. She didn’t wait. She really didn’t wait for me.
A text message pings as I stare blankly out the window, but I already know what it’s going to say.
I’ll pay you back for the ticket. When it comes to Jett, you always pick him over me.
She thinks I stayed at the party because of Jett. Nothing could be further from the truth, and yet her words hit like a punch. My jaw tightens, guilt swirling with the anger already simmering under my skin.
But she’s not completely wrong. God, I hate that she’s not.
Chapter 6
CARI
My gut churns. Bats, not butterflies, dance inside my stomach.
Why is this so difficult?
It’s Monday morning, and I’m back at work, my fingers trembling as they hover over the smooth white envelope. Inside is my resignation letter, the one I finally wrote last night. After everything that’s happened, I have to hand it in. I have to be done with this.
I should be furious, not nervous. After missing the concert, I should be storming in there.