Page 29 of Heartbeats and Hashtags
Through gritted teeth, I overhear his snide aside to an assistant when he knows Everly is in earshot, “For such a top influencer, she's not very photogenic, is she?”
Everly's face falls almost invisibly before she recovers her smile. The light behind her eyes dims.
She pastes on a vacant look I know all too well as emotional retreat.One of my signature looks.She moves through the motions robotically, no longer fully present.Fuck. This.
I'll be damned if I let this pompous asshole trample her spirit and confidence. I don’t give a shit if she gets mad at me. I’m ending this now.
As I stride over to put an end to this farce, shouting erupts from farther down shore. I realize quickly it’s just a dispute between locals, but I recognize my chance to excuse us.
In the ensuing chaos, I catch Everly's wide, overwhelmed eyes, finding mine instinctively. I move to her side without hesitation, letting my hand rest supportively on her slender back. Her body relaxes.
“I believe that will conclude today's activities,” I state coldly to the director and his twittering underlings. “We thank you for your time but require an early exit. That commotion poses a security risk.”
John blusters red-faced about unfinished shooting, but I silence him with an icy stare. Men far more formidable that him have withered under that look. He continues to argue.
“Uh, excuse me, but we have several more outfits to shoot,” he squeaks.
This man clearly doesn’t know what’s good for him.
I lean in close enough for his cheap cologne to choke me.
I lower my tone. “I think that's enough for today,” I declare evenly to a shrinking John. “John, I couldn't give a flying fuck about your shoot. My client's security has been compromised, and we are leavingnow. And you won't say another word about it unless you want to see what I willreallydo to protect her.”
EVERLY
As fragrant suds slide down my skin under the rainfall showerhead, emotions swirl through me almost as chaotically as when Cole swooped me away from the dreaded beach photoshoot. I brace a hand against the cool marble tiles, playing the events back in my mind.
It all began so promising — finally a major brand deal to shift my influencer status beyond just fitness content. I’d hoped it might ease some pressure to constantly project boundless energy and athleticism. But from the moment I arrived on set, my stomach knotted up tight.
John’s harsh directives chipped away at my confidence. With a sinking realization that I now felt lost on how to be myself — the real me — amidst expectations for the tireless online persona I created.
I am beginning to realize that somewhere along the way I have created two versions of myself. I’ve blurred the lines between actual upbeat Everly and “OhItsEverly,” the glossy only version effortlessly cheerful every second.
On the beach, with all those people watching, I didn’t knowwhichversion I was. I panicked feeling a growing uneasiness that I wouldn’t be able to meet the expectations of the campaign.
Just when I thought I might crumble, Cole stepped in. His piercing eyes dared anyone to utter another word to me, and I swear in that moment, if we were alone, I would’ve kissed him.
I scrub my scalp, lathering shampoo into my hair. Does failing to measure up at opportunities like this mean I'm notactuallycut out for this life? Could Cole be right? Do I even have fun making content anymore?
I have worked so hard on my brand and online persona since giving my full attention to it, hoping one day I’d be a good fit for a respected brand like ChicCosmos – for what? I wonder if I even want that anymore.Especiallynow, I’ve seen some dangers of fame withEvBear.I shiver at the reminder despite the hot water rushing over my skin.
Stepping out of the shower, I allow the fluffy towel to comfort me.One more night here. John canceled the remainder of the shoot, which probably means I’m going to lose out on the whole ChicCosmos campaign. But it’s fine. Tomorrow we’re flying back to Miami, andeverything makes sense in Miami. I love what I do. Cole isnothingbut my professional bodyguard. And that is that.
Tanya’s name lights up my phone and interrupts my thoughts. I haven't caught up with her or Daisy nearly enough lately. I make a mental note to text Daisy something cute about friendship—she's always been a sucker for that sentimental stuff. Spending a few minutes to find the perfect quote will make her day.
“Hey, girl, what's up?” I’m already grinning.
I put he on speaker phone so I can continue getting ready.
“Giiirl!” Tanya trills, sounding happier than I've heard her in a long time. Instantly, I'm suspicious—the only things that get Tanya this upbeat is listening to Taylor Swift or having great sex. And her voice is way too clear for T-Swift to be playing. I can't hear anything in the background.
“Alright, spill. What has you sounding so chipper this morning?” I ask knowingly.
“Oh, just appreciating this beautiful day! The birds are singing, the sun is shining...” she gushes theatrically.
I burst out laughing. “Tanya, you hate nature. The only green thing you care about is hundred-dollar bills. Try again.” It’s true that her career choice as a mergers and acquisitions lawyer is primarily motivated by seeing the number in her bank account increase. Not that that’s a bad thing, but it does mean Tanya has become particularly accustomed to high-end shopping malls and turns her nose up a little more at walks in a forest.
“Rude!” she gasps in mock offense. “Can't a girl just be in a good mood?”
