Page 23 of In Her Arms

“I’ll think about it,” she finally said, though she could hear the uncertainty in her own voice.

“Good,” Steve replied, his tone lightening. “And hey, if it doesn’t work out, we’ll just find you a nice, secluded island where you can drink whiskey and brood in peace.”

Goldie chuckled softly, grateful for his attempt to lighten the mood. “Yeah, maybe you could get someone on that? I need a tropical paradise with no phones or internet. And just one bartender.”

“A hot bartender? Can I come too?” Steve joked, raising his glass.

“Sure. Just me and you.” She laughed, clinking her glass against his.

“Just promise me you’ll think about heading out to find her instead of sitting in here and moping. It’s weird and doesn’t suit you,” Steve said after a moment. “You deserve to be happy,Goldie. And this might be the person who helps you achieve that. Fuck what people might say. You being with a woman will be old news soon enough.”

Goldie nodded, though the thought of reaching out still filled her with dread. She had built walls around her heart for a reason, and those walls had always served her well in the past. But now, they felt different. In fact, they felt like a cage.

The evening stretched on. They both poured another glass of whiskey and sat in comfortable silence. Goldie’s mind wandered as she gazed at a million tiny stars flickering in the night sky. She thought about the barrage of interviews and events awaiting her. She remembered the Indigo Lounge and the way Cameron’s eyes lit up when she spoke about it.

“I’ll be back for the press junket,” Goldie said suddenly, breaking the quiet. “I should check out that bar she talked about. Maybe I’ll find her there.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Which one?”

“The Indigo Lounge,” Goldie explained. “Cameron said it was special to her. I think it might be a great place to start.”

“You go, girl,” Steve encouraged. “But remember, it’s not just about finding her. It’s about facing up to your feelings too. You need to be ready to be totally honest with her. And hey, maybe consider that therapist I sent you the card for?”

Goldie could feel the weight of his words as he said them. “I will. I promise.”

“Good,” Steve said as a satisfied smile crossed his face. “You’ve got this, Goldie. Just take it one step at a time.”

They continued to drink, and as the night deepened, Goldie felt a flicker of hope ignite in her chest. Maybe she could face this. Maybe she could take the leap and reach out to Cameron.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” she said, her voice lightening, “but I’m totally going to do it.”

“Now that’s the spirit, my Goldie!” Steve exclaimed, raising his glass in a mock toast. “Let’s drink to bravery and second chances!”

Goldie felt a shift within herself as she laughed at Steve’s antics—a tentative step toward reclaiming the parts of her heart she had locked away.

“Thank you so much, Stevie,” she said sincerely. “You’ve saved my ass. You’re always saving my ass. Who knew you were basically a therapist too?”

“Not always. No, you’re right. Always,” he replied with a giggle. “Now, how about you go and get some rest? I’m going to make a few calls.”

“Yeah, I could use some sleep. Calls? At this time?” Goldie asked, rising from her seat.

“God, you people have no clue what we do,” Steve replied, shaking his head and giving her a wink.

As they stepped back into the suite, Goldie knew the path ahead wouldn’t be easy. But she knew she had to try.

13

CAMERON

The inviting scent of spices filled the air at the Indigo Lounge. The kitchen was alive with the sound of chopping, sizzling, and chatter as Cameron, Esme, and Sasha gathered around a table strewn with notebooks, pens, and various culinary ingredients. They were deep in the throes of brainstorming new specials for the upcoming menu.

“I’m telling you, we need to name one of the drinks after Marsha P.,” Esme said, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “She was iconic! Come on! Let’s be real. What would be a better name for a cocktail? It sounds so bold! And just the right thing to have before this spicy cannelloni deal we’ve got going on.”

Cameron smiled faintly, her mind only half involved in the conversation. “Marsha P. Sure. It would definitely bring the party vibe,” she said, jotting down the name.

“Totally,” Sasha chimed in, stirring a pot on the stove. “And we can make it a colorful, layered drink to represent the pride flag! I’m also thinking rainbow shots all the way—definitely a crowd-pleaser!”

“Perfect,” said Esme. “But we need a second drink to pair with it. What about a classic? Maybe something like The Lorde?”

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