Page 96 of Whiskey Splash

My chest feels like it’s caving in because that moment was such a turning point for me, an intimate, perfect moment of trust and even it—itcan’t be sacred!

I feel Desmond’s hands on my face. I feel him cupping my cheeks as he’s on his knees in front of me wiping wetness from my face.

“Esme? Esme?” Desmond’s chanting my name, or calling it, trying to bring me back from this storm cloud of impossibility exploding in my head. “We’re working on taking it down. Okay? We’re—”

I nod. I hear him, but what he says doesn’t mean anything.

The fact that it’s up there means people have seen it, taken screenshots of it, shared it.

Desmond can get it taken down, but that won’t erase it. It won’t change what people will think, and what they’ll assume.

Desmond’s phone is buzzing. He picks it up. It’s one of hispeople,someone tasked with hunting down the pictures of me fucking their boss.

It sounds so crass, even in my head, even though I know it was more than that between us, but I’m naked – mouth open!

There isn’t anything left to the imagination.

There’s no room for interpretation.

I’m doing exactly what everyone thinks I’m doing in that photo, even if it meant more to me. The sunlight still strips us down to one single narrative.

I walk toward the bedroom, numb, not sure how I’m even moving. Desmond’s on the phone talking so fast it could be a different language. His voice gets distant as I reach the bathroom, dropping the bathrobe on the floor as I walk into the shower. I turn up the water till it blasts with heat, water so hot it’s searing. It’s such a shock it makes me cry out when I step under it, the pelts of water so harsh they could be melting my skin off.

I don’t adjust the temperature.

I let it scream over my body, turning me red, letting it burn away the image of all my sunlit skin wrapped in Desmond.

“Jesus, that’s too hot!” Desmond’s voice is in my ear. His arms wrap around my body.

I collapse into him and somehow he turns off the water. Somehow he sits down on the floor of the shower and holds me in his arms. I can’t tell if I’m breathing or sobbing, only that I’m naked and he’s clothed and we’re both in a wet ball on the floor together and I want to scream.

Maybe I do scream.

Maybe he screams with me.

But he doesn’t let me go. He holds me against him and I swear he’s the only thing keeping me afloat.

He’s the only thing keeping me from drowning completely.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Ihold my head up high as I walk into the Mandara. I’m not delusional enough to think I’m keeping my job. I was already on thin ice with Mrs. Rose, but now there’s unreputable evidence that I’ve broken the resort policy. Even if Mrs. Rose wanted to be kind, which I know she won’t be, scandal is scandal.

Naomi rushes up to me as I walk through the corridors toward the locker room. “Oh, my God!” she says, grabbing my arm. “Are you okay? I saw the photo; we all saw it.”

I shake my head. “Not really,” I whisper. Of course, I’m not okay, but I try to roll back my shoulders and stand tall, doing my best to save face even if I’m horrified by the fact that my close friends have seen an intimate image of me. “This was bound to happen with a celebrity, right?” I say softly, the joke falling flat. “You said he was worth getting fired over, didn’t you?”

Naomi frowns, guilty shadows falling over her face. Of course, I know she was kidding when she said that before, and I’m not trying to make her feel bad.

“Bad joke,” I say, shaking my head.

“No no no,” Naomi says quickly, waving her hands around like the last thing I should be worried about is her. “It’s fine. What do you need right now? What can I do?”

I squeeze Naomi’s arm. “I’m just going to get my things and go,” I say softly. It’s the best I can manage honestly, and the last thing I want to deal with right now is the pity on Naomi’s face. “Actually, if you could go occupy Mrs. Rose so I don’t have to face her right now, that would really help. I’m sure she’s chomping at the bit for me to come in so she can roast me.”

Naomi nods. “She did tell everyone to bring you straight to her office if you show up.”

“I don’t want a scene,” I clarify. “I just want to get my belongings and bow out as gracefully as possible.”

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