Page 83 of Love Is…?

“I’m sorry that I overheard, Grace, but?—”

“Marina, you’re literally right there. It’s okay. Really.” Grace patted the air to dismiss the apology.

“Well, if I may share my opinion. Michael sounds like a horrible person, and I agree with Tessa’s assessment. As you know, I drive a somewhat soundproof, heavily-tinted SUV, which might be helpful should Michael require transport to the canon.”

Marina blinked innocently.

Grace’s laugh started well then ended in more of a cough, but Marina’s comment helped recalibrate Grace’s breathing to something resembling normal, and Tessa wanted to reach across the centre console to hug the wonderful Filipina woman.

“Okay. Let’s grab our gear, and solve this. It’s solvable, Grace.” Tessa exited the vehicle, hoisted her bag over hershoulder, and made her way to the little elevator. Grace trailed behind, and Tessa’s heart broke at how devastated Grace looked. How hurt. How worried. All because a person, a person who Grace liked very much, had dismissed that affection and ridiculed it just for clicks.

“Fu—”Sam stopped the word before it exited her mouth. Anger shimmered across her face, and she leaned forward in the chair, her hands clenched into fists. Abby, her lips pressed into a straight line, reached over from her spot on the edge of the bed next to Grace, and patted Sam’s thigh.

“I’m sorry,” Grace said, for probably the fifth time, and Sam shook her head.

“No. Nope. This isn’t your fault,” she said, inhaling deeply, then clasped Grace’s hand. “I’m sorry that he’s hurt you. You’re hurt, and embarrassed, and that’s what makes me angry.”

Tessa watched from the doorway, her shoulder leaning against the frame. Her suggestion that she should leave the three of them to discuss things as a family was shot down with Sam insisting that she stay. Tessa conceded but felt the doorway was a good place to be, particularly as she was shedding flakes of dried mud with every movement.

When they’d exited the elevator forty minutes prior, Grace had immediately disappeared upstairs to take a shower and Sam, who’d wandered into the foyer to welcome them home, had raised both eyebrows.

“Not a great hike?”

Tessa grimaced. “It was a great hike. Although something happened while we were away, but Grace should be the one to tell you.”

Sam blanched. “Shit.” Then she turned as if to head straight upstairs, knock on Grace’s bedroom door, and ask questions that Grace was probably not ready to answer.

“Wait!” Tessa shifted uncomfortably, and sucked in air through her teeth. “Okay. Grace wrote a poem for Michael. I’m talking a beautiful calligraphy actually-on-paper poem where she told him that she liked him a lot. A lot.”

Sam squinted. “Okay?”

“So, Michael made a TikTok video in which he pokes fun of the poem, mentions Grace by name, talks about how easy it was to string her along, and generally?—”

“That utter piece of shit!” Sam’s face was thunderous and Tessa was almost tempted to feel a speck of pity for Michael because if Sam ever got her hands on him, he’d be reduced to atoms.

For an easygoing person, Sam did murderous parent rather well.

So here they were, dealing with a devastated Grace Taylor, who was convinced that she’d hurt her mum and Sam.

“I’ll have Isabelle persuade Michael’s parents to take the video down.” Abby squeezed Grace’s hand, and Grace fell sideways into her mother’s shoulder. Isabelle, as most agents were, was a social media genius and a pit bull when it came to protecting her client, because it turned out she’d called Abby within seconds of whatever alert had pinged her mobile, meaning that Abby knew of the situation before Grace had exited the bathroom and told her side of the story.

“Even with the video taken down, it will still be out there, and people will be mocking me, mocking the idea of writing old-fashioned poems to express deep emotions, propping up Michael’s ego, and just… I’m embarrassed,” Grace said into Abby’s shirt.

Tessa pushed off from the doorframe, and stepped into the room.

“Hey,” Tessa said softly, and Grace lifted her head. “I can’t tell you not to be embarrassed because it’s how you feel. But Michael will be getting piled on for this, and I can guarantee his video is being stitched by people who are furious. You are loved by so many. There are multiple fan accounts dedicated to you, and I bet those fans are defending you as we speak.”

Grace sat up. “I know. I’m grateful for that. But even with that support, I’m still the centre of attention whether that attention is positive or negative.”

Abby swept up her daughter’s hand. “I’m so sorry that this is your first experience of love, sweetheart.”

“I didn’t love him.” Grace stared at the thick carpet.

Everyone waited.

“Well, maybe a bit.” She lifted her head. “Which makes it worse.” Tears threatened again.

“No, it doesn’t.” Sam folded her arms. “Michael had all the right words. Found all the mutual interests. He behaved like a sociopathic angler fish.”

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