Page 85 of All Signs Point to Malibu

Soft, tranquil piano music plays as Sonia and I lie on massage tables in a dimly lit treatment room. The scent of lemongrass fills my senses and masseuses massage us with hot stones and reflexology techniques. After the painfully awkward meeting with Warren, where I completely chickened out of the conversation about our night together and how we were going to deal with our bridal party duties tomorrow, I’m desperately trying to relax, but Sonia wants to talk.

“I told Liam about the role,” she says, her voice slightly muffled with her face down in the hole of the massage table next to me.

A new tension creeps through my body at the mention of Liam. Last night on the deck was weird and my glimpse still has me freaked out and suffering an off balance equilibrium. Now, instead of trying to stop the wedding at all costs, I’m desperate to make sure it happens. Wild turn of events, but here we are. Supporting this new focus, I was hoping Sonia would continue keeping her secret for now, but I had been the one encouraging her to come clean all along. “And?”

“He wasn’t exactly thrilled about it. We had a huge fight.”

Uh-oh. “He wasn’t supportive?”

“The whole Hollywood scene isn’t his thing. He likes his privacy and he thinks that’s not possible with me involved in acting.”

A series of hot stones are placed along my spine and for a second, I’m too blissfully in peace to focus on the conversation.

But Sonia’s words are eerily familiar.

“He had a similar issue with my career choice.” Maybe Liam needs to be different, more open. Less judgmental about other people’s dreams and life goals and more supportive. Sure, right now he’s the one making a few sacrifices, but ultimately he’s still doing what he loves—designing and building.

“Really?”

“That was one of the main reasons things ended. I had to put my personal life—or a version of it—on display and he wasn’t comfortable being part of that.” Liam allowed my career choice to come between us and I realize now just how close I’d come to sacrificing it for him... I’m happy now that I didn’t.

“Maybe I shouldn’t take the part,” Sonia says.

“I don’t think giving up your own dreams is the right choice. If you do you’ll only end up resenting him. Maybe explain it to him...” The masseuse hits a hot spot on my lower back and I moan. “Oh, that feels good.”

“He’s given up his plans to be here, work for my father. Maybe that was the wrong thing to expect.”

“He loves you. He wouldn’t have made that decision if it wasn’t what he wanted to do,” I say. All along I’d been trying to protect Liam, but what about Sonia? She deserves to follow her dreams, as well. Liam is still doing the job he loves, with the woman he loves... Maybe he’s the one who needs to compromise—the way he agreed to already—for their relationship.

Maybe the future I saw is on him. Maybe his own inability to support a partner is what leads him there. And I need to take a back seat and watch things unfold, no longer try to prevent it. “And I think he just needs time to come to terms with your acting career, but the minute he sees you on that screen, he’ll realize it’s exactly where you belong.”

“Thanks, Hailey. You’ve been amazing.”

Guilt overpowers my relaxation. I haven’t always been. “Of course.”

Sonia stops talking and enjoys her massage, but now I can’t.

My mind reels as my newfound friendship with Sonia has me wondering where we go from here. Six-month contracts—no more—has always been my motto, my safety net to prevent things from going sideways or people from getting too close. But I don’t want to say goodbye to Sonia...

Outside the spa an hour later, Sonia looks refreshed and vibrant as we walk toward the car. I feel less heavy and weighted down, as well. Letting go of Operation Breakup is freeing. I’m still worried about Liam getting hurt, but I’m also worried about Sonia. I still don’t think this union is the best thing for either of them, but my plans to sabotage it are done.

“That was just what I needed,” Sonia says but her phone chimes with a new email and when she checks it, panic crosses her features.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s the wedding favors. They didn’t ship until this morning. Expected delivery is in four days,” she says. Sonia dials the company number as she paces the parking lot.

I listen to her plead and explain nicely, calmly...then go full-on demanding Bridezilla. “Do you know who I am? Do you know who my father is?” Her tone is shrill and cutting.

Throughout the stress of this entire thing, I’ve never seen her this way. It’s slightly terrifying and makes me glad I’ve just decided to truly be a friend to her—no more lying or manipulating. I would not want to be on Sonia Banks’s bad side.

I intercept and take the phone away. “Let me,” I say to Sonia. Then into the phone, “Hi, there...sorry about my friend. She’s a little stressed.”

“She’s an asshole,” the female voice on the other end says.

“Well, she was promised a delivery date.”

“Subject to change. Says so right on the order.”

---