Page 127 of Beneath the Hood

“Can we stay on track here?” I cut in. “You’re just what… planning to ignore your therapist’s advice so I can have a place to live?”

“I’m nothin’ if not a giver.” She puts a hand over her heart.

I chew on the inside of my cheek, contemplating her words. It would be nice to have a place of my own while I figure out what it is that I want to do.

“What are you plannin’ to do about work? You gonna flip cars again?” Lee asks.

My heart twists. The thought of working on cars makes my stomach roll. While I love what I do, the entire reason I worked so hard to get into the industry—to make a name for myself—was to see Dad’s dream come to fruition. And I guess, technically, I’ve accomplished that. I may not ever see them featured the way I’d like, but they’re there in the background, and that will have to be good enough.

But the passion that once flowed through my veins and seeped from my pores is missing, replaced with a fear that everything from the carburetor to the engine will remind me of Blakely.

And I’m doing all that I can to forget.

I shrug. “I don’t know. I’ll just take it easy for a while. Relax.”

Becca sighs. “Must be nice to be so loaded you ain’t got to work.”

She’s not wrong. Despite what Blakely and everyone around her seems to think, being the best at flipping cars is an extremely lucrative career. One car can bring in upwards of six-hundred thousand dollars. In fact, I took a pay cut to work for her father. But I’ve had several years to amass millions and have invested wisely, my portfolio manager calling me once a month to keep me up to date.

Lee scoffs. “Like you’re one to talk, Miss Thang. Eli has more money than God. You’d just have to snap your fingers and he’d make sure you never worked another day in your life.”

I chuckle, shaking my head. “It’s so weird that you two are together.”

Becca balls up a napkin, throwing it at me. “Get over it. He makes me happy. Not all of us are meant for the bachelor life like you.”

I smirk, but her words strike a chord—sharp and out of tune, it reverberates inside of me, scraping under my skin, reminding me of how close I came to not having to settle for a life alone.

It’s been almost a month and still, my broken heart beats for her.

55

Blakely

Turning Pointe is an exclusive, resort-type rehabilitation center, hidden away in the hills of California, specifically centered around celebrities who need privacy while they heal.

My dad, of course, “had connections” and was able to get me in for a thirty-day treatment.

I agreed without a fight. I’m so tired of being tired. Exhausted from pretending like I’m okay when it’s clear that I’m just a bunch of shattered pieces held together with warped tape.

Sierra, however, is not on board, scoffing at the notion of me disappearing for an entire month.

“Do you know what that will do to your career?” she snaps over the phone.

I sigh. “Sierra, I don’tcare. I need to take care ofme.”

“I never would have leaked to the press if I would have known the result was you having some come-to Jesus moment.”

My heart stalls in my chest. “What did you just say?”

She breathes harshly over the line and my stomach drops to the floor. I had assumed the anonymous source was Kayla. Through everything that’s happened over the past few days, I’ve neveroncequestioned Sierra’s loyalty. Always been under the assumption that she had my best interests at heart, she just didn’t know the best way to approach them.

Clearly, I’ve been a blind idiot.

“You’re fired.”

“What?” she gasps.

“You heard me. This...” I rest my forehead on the counter, letting the cool marble chill my overheated skin. “I’m done letting you make choices for me. Poisoning my mind to think I need to be something other than what I am.”

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