Page 65 of (Not So) Famous in Paradise

Georgia sits in the bright light, and Amber goes to work on her, covering the freckles that are so much a part of who she is that I can barely stand to watch them disappear.

“Your followers know you have freckles. Why are you covering them up for TV?” I lean against the wall while Georgia lifts her chin for Amber to get under her jaw.

Georgia shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess I didn’t think about it, but when I saw the pictures Stella posted, I liked how I looked without them.”

“What’s that?” Stella saunters over from the demoed kitchen, scrolling through her phone.

Georgia repeats my question and her answer for Stella, and I regret ever asking it.

“I wasn’t trying to make a big deal about it,” I say. “I just like your freckles.”

“I touched up the photos a little to make them disappear. I thought you didn’t want them to show, because Amber covered them.” Stella tips her head and examines Georgia’s face. “I can untouch them, if you want. I can even make your freckles more visible.”

Amber steps back like she’s reconsidering what she’s done to Georgia. “I assumed you wouldn’t want them to show. Most people ask me to cover them, but I like the way they look. They add more character to your face.”

“Really? You think I should let them show?” Georgia glances from Amber to me.

“Freckles are totally in,” Amber says.

“I already told you I like them.” I lean against the one wall still standing, hoping the nonchalant look I’m trying for works.

I shouldn’t be this invested in Georgia’s freckles. But the truth is, I like her better with them. I don’t say this, and it’s not something I’ve ever thought about before, but they do make her face interesting. Even more beautiful, in a really unique way. I mean, how many people have enough freckles to completely cover their faces? Not many.

Georgia motions for Amber to give her a mirror, then examines herself in it. “All right, then, let’s pull back on the makeup.” She turns her head side to side as though she’s still unsure. “Plus, it’s making me break out.” She rubs her jawline where there’s a small bump.

I watch Amber remove a layer of the stuff covering Georgia’s face. The more she rubs, the more I see the Georgia I know.

“What are you smiling at?” Georgia asks, and I realize I’m staring.

“The girl I remember.” I push myself away from the wall and walk to the folding table for my second cup of coffee.

My phone dings with a text as I drink. When I check the screen, the message is from Carly. I glance back at Georgia before opening it.

I know you’re mad, but I miss you. Brad was a huge mistake. I was jealous of you and Georgia. Please forgive me.

I read the text again, questioning if I’ve skipped over words or misread them because this message is not what I expected from Carly. I glance at Georgia again, and the look on my face must tell her how confused I am, because she tips her head to the side and mouthswhat.

I shake my head and put on a smile so she knows it’s nothing.

Because it is.

I’ll answer Carly later and tell her I hope we can be friends, nothing more. But I can’t get back together with her. Idostill care about her. Not like I did, but I can’t wipe my feelings away all at once. And a part of me is tempted to tell her everything is forgotten. Except that would be a lie. I don’t trust her anymore, and it would take a lot more than an apology to change that.

Mom used to always say I’m like thatPride and Prejudiceguy. Once my good opinion is lost, it’s lost forever. Or something like that.

I guess she’s not wrong. I have a hard time forgiving anyone who does something to lose my trust. That’s why when I found out Adam’s first fiancée, Dakota, cheated on him, I told her she should leave. I promised her I wouldn’t tell him what she’d done, and I kept my word, even though she didn’t deserve it, and Adam blamed me for their breakup.

I didn’t like that, but I understood why he was so mad. He thought I was the one who’d broken his trust.

“Why are you walking like that?” Ike shouts from the other side of the room, and I turn to see Georgia behind me.

Her eyes drop to my phone and the message there, the text big enough to easily read from where she is. I quickly tuck it into my back pocket.

“Everything okay?” Georgia asks, ignoring Ike’s question and his determined stride toward us.

I nod just before Ike steps between Georgia and me. “And the boots? Why are you wearing those instead of real shoes? We have the drill and purse scene today. You need to be in heels. That’s your whole brand.”

He’s not yelling, but I still don’t like the tone he’s using with Georgia.

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