Page 29 of All Signs Point to Malibu

“Kidding.”

As we all get up to leave, my legs nearly give out thanks to painful pins and needles as blood returns to my lower limbs. I hold the table for support as I try to shake feeling back into them.

“I’ll pay the bill,” Liam tells Sonia and he and Warren walk away toward the counter.

Alone, Sonia approaches me and lowers her voice. “Hey, I was...uh, wondering if you might have any openings?”

I frown. “For coaching?”

“I could use some advice,” she says nervously.

I doubt that. Sonia Banks is the most polished, confident, put-together woman I’ve ever tried not to like. Besides... “As the heir to the Banks Resorts family legacy, I’m sure you have things pretty well figured out.” Or things have been perfectly figured out for her since birth. Either way, she’ll be fine without my help.

“Ha! Believe me, I don’t,” she says and damn it if I don’t like her even more for her sincere vulnerability. Why does she have to be marrying and divorcing my ex-boyfriend?

“Oh, um, my schedule’s a little full.” I obviously can’t coach her. Too much of a conflict of interest.

“I get it,” she says, nodding disappointedly. “You’re in high demand.”

I hesitate. Conflict of interest or just another step in my plan to stop the wedding? It might be challenging to get close enough to Liam without raising any red flags, but Sonia was coming to me...

“You know what? I can fit you in,” I say as though I’m doing her a huge favor. Let the record show, this is not my fault if it backfires.

Her eyes light up. “Really?”

“Absolutely.” Glimpsing Sonia’s future might shed some light on the situation, and on another level I’m actually curious to see why Sonia Banks could possibly need my career advice.

She links her arm through mine and from the corner of my eye, I see Warren watching us. Suspicion appears on his face and I need to be careful. I can’t let him figure out that I’m getting involved with this wedding simply to destroy it from the inside.

SIX

HAILEY’S DAILY RULE FOR SUCCESS:

Treat your competition with the respect they deserve. They are challenging you to be the best version of yourself.

Big congrats on the Laywood deal! Keep hustling—you’ll get there!

I type the comment on Spencer Stanley’s social media page under his post announcing the partnership. Waiting a week ensures he doesn’t think I’m stalking his page and paying attention to his every move but shows industry respect with just the slightest hint of condescension—to let him know I’m not threatened.

I hit Post then turn my attention to life coaching conference prep. I may not be threatened by Spencer Stanley yet, but I have to be a bigger presence at this conference. Heading online to the conference’s networking platform, I immediately search for attendees I want to connect with and send “meeting invite” requests. Confirmations pop up almost immediately from local business owners and any nervousness I may have felt about my competition evaporates. I’m Hailey fucking Harris—of course people want to meet with me.

I wonder if success ever dilutes imposter syndrome?

Time passes as I work on my presentation notes and two hours later a nervous-looking Sonia sits across from me in my office. She’s dressed in a black business suit and white blouse, her hair coifed in a tight bun—professional. I too dressed for the part today in my favorite charcoal suit, electric-blue blouse and matching sky-high power heels, which my feet are regretting, but they’ve already done their job. Sonia’s been eyeing them as she’s been waiting for me to shut down my conference prep—shoes are like a secret language between women. Not just an accessory, but a way to connect through fashion.

Similar taste in shoes indicates compatibility like no extensively researched test can measure.

“How can I help?” I ask.

“This feels silly to say out loud,” she says, playing with a tennis bracelet on her wrist. I recognize the power move and applaud the effort—toying with the expensive accessory indicates she’s humble enough to seek my advice, but a quiet reminder that she probably doesn’t truly need it.

Say the wrong thing and my value will quickly be diminished in her eyes.

“The first step in manifesting is putting the desire out into the universe.” I wave the words out of her as though I don’t have time for lack of confidence.

She sits straighter, chin raised, and announces, “I want to be an actress.”

Definitely not what I was expecting. Not that she’s not stunning and enigmatic enough to be a star, she just seems a little...naive, which is odd for a woman surrounded by mega successful professionals her entire life. Hollywood would eat her alive with her current sweet, genuine nature.

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