Page 124 of Summer People
I pull back and turn. “Dad this is?—”
“Fisher Jones.” He holds out his hand.
Confusion swirls through me as he smiles at Fisher, his expression softening. “He’s been taking care of the cottage. And he’s the one I asked to get the place ready for you. Cank gave me his number. Says he does everything on the island.”
The two of us let out matching laughs. “Not anymore,” Fisher says, shaking my father’s hand.
“No?” I say, questioning him.
With a smile, he peers down at me. “No. From now on, the only people I do everything for are you two.” He squeezes Sutton’s shoulder.
“I can’t believe you’re here.” I’m still blown away. Still confused about how they got here. About why they’re here.
“We couldn’t miss your big award.” Sutton grins.
“Oh.” I glance at my father. He was supposed to be my guest tonight.
He gives me a warm smile. “Take them.” Quickly, his expression morphs into something far more serious. “But if Brad so much as looks at her?—”
Fisher tenses beside me. “I’ve got her.”
Straightening his jacket, my father nods. “Good, because if I see him, I’ll kill him.”
Sutton squeaks and I glower.
“Sorry,” he says sheepishly.
Fisher shakes his head. “I’m with you.”
“No one is hurting anyone,” I say, looking back and forth between them.
“Right,” Sutton says proudly. “She’s going to decimate him with the truth.”
Smiling, I bend down and hug her again. “Exactly, pretty girl.”
Between our encounter at the gate and the phone calls I made to ensure we secured a third seat, we missed the red carpet. I may not have had the opportunity to speak my truth there, but I promise myself I’ll find a way.
Sutton sits between Fisher and me. It was more difficult than I expected to magically come up with a third seat, but my publicist is a saint who was more than willing to give up her spot.
Every few seconds, Sutton grabs my arm and points at another celebrity she recognizes. She knows more people here than I do since I’ve always been too busy to watch anything other thanDancing with the Starsregularly.
We’re not seated with anyone from my show. Probably on purpose. Maybe my people arranged it. Maybe the production team did. Either way, I can’t say I’m not happy about it. I’ve yet to spot Brad, but I won’t breathe easy until we’re back on the East Coast.
The award for best supporting actress is announced near the end of the night, and when Joey Berkshire—the heiress and winner ofDancing with the Stars—says my name, I break out in goose bumps.
The audience cheers, but the sound fades as I stand and lock eyes with Fisher.
Holy shit. This is actually happening. I won. Iwon.
Fisher reaches across Sutton and squeezes my hand. “Proud of you.”
Sutton throws her arms around my waist, vibrating with excitement. With a steadying breath, I hug her tight. “Thank you, pretty girl.”
Her blue eyes meet mine, so full of wisdom and trust. So full of belief in me. “Now go tell your truth.”
I walk up to the stage in a daze and accept a hug from Joey before turning toward the now quieted crowd.
For a moment, my mind is blank. But then I spot Brad, seated in the third row, with a smug smile on his face, and the words spill out.
