Page 34 of (Not So) Famous in Paradise

“I guess so.”

“She left a heart in the comments on yesterday’s posts. I thought you two had figured things out.” Georgia pulls off the coffee lid again and sips from her cup with both hands wrapped around it.

“You’d think so, right? Except for one picture, our posts aren’t even close to being romantic-looking anymore.” I rake my hand through my hair, my frustration growing. “What more does she want me to do? Stop working with you altogether?”

Georgia’s head bolts up, and the worry in her eyes is impossible to miss.

“She’s not that demanding,” I say quickly. “And I would never do that to you. Plus it would be a stupid career move.”

Georgia’s shoulders relax, and a tiny smile flits across her face. “Good. I’m sure you’ll get things smoothed out with her.”

I nod, because of course she’s right. “You’ve given me the chance of a lifetime,” I go on, changing the subject and hoping for a real smile. “If I want to grow my real estate business, I can’t get better publicity than being on your show.”

“That’s true,” she answers brightly. “People from all over could be calling you to find them a place in Paradise.”

“Maybe even outside of Paradise.” That thought hadn’t occurred to me until right now. “I could sell all over Idaho and Utah.”

“Depending on what happens with this show, there could be bigger opportunities than that. More shows, more partnerships.” She raises her cup to her mouth but stops before taking a drink. “But it might mean leaving Paradise. Would you be willing to do that?”

It only takes me a few seconds to think about the question before I answer, “Yeah, if I had the chance I would.”

“I didn’t think you ever wanted to leave.” She steps closer. A soft line forms between her brows.

“I used to think about it, before Mom got sick.” Georgia is the one person I can look in the face when I talk about Mom. There’s no pity in her eyes, just understanding. I could cry in front of her without being embarrassed about it. Which makes the lump that always forms in my throat when I talk about Mom disappear. If I know I can cry, I don’t need to.

Then the reality of what has to happen before I’d leave Paradise hits me: Mom’s passing. My eyes prick with the threat of tears, and I look away from Georgia.

But she reaches for my hand and squeezes it. “It sucks, Zach. Don’t hold in what you don’t have to.”

I swallow hard and shake my head. It’s enough to know, without my having to say it, that someone else understands how hard long goodbyes are.

Chapter 12

Georgia

The room is suddenly quiet, as though by some miracle everyone disappeared at the exact moment Zach needed to be vulnerable. He presses his hand to his mouth, then runs it across his jaw to the back of his neck. I don’t know how the conversation turned to his mom, but the pain on his face is too much.

Heidi Thomsen was a second mom to me while I was growing up. Now she has a progressive form of Alzheimer’s that will eventually take her life long before itshouldend. She’s not even sixty.

I haven’t seen her since Adam’s almost-wedding, last June—when he got left at the altar. It broke my heart, seeing her confused and forgetful. I had to remind her who I was. I’ve avoided seeing her since I got back because I know she might not remember me at all by now, even with reminders.

“I wish there was something I could do for your mom.” I lift my hand to touch him again before, in the corner of my eye, I see Stella walk in the room. She has her phone at the ready to take pictures, so I lower my hand to my side.

Teri follows, waving a stack of papers at me. I motion her to bring over what must be today’s script.

As I scan the pages, an idea forms—an idea forms that could actually help. Not with Heidi, but with Carly. Which sucks, because I’d much rather find a way to make Heidi better than fix Zach’s relationship with Carly.

“Look.” I take a deep breath. “I think I know what we can do to make Carly see we’re just friends.”

Zach’s gaze drifts back to mine. “Really?”

I nod. “If this show is as successful as I think it might be, our partnership may last longer than it or the Little Copenhagen project. If you’re serious about marrying Carly, everyone has to believe we’re friends, not just her.”

His eyes move side to side as he nods, taking in what I’ve said. Hopefully the thing he’s really thinking through is his relationship with Carly. I don’t think he understands that if our fan base keeps growing, he may have to keep his relationship with her a secret. People want to seeustogether.

“Remember our handshake?” I ask.

He squints, then nods.

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