Page 154 of Gin and Lava

I read through the rest of the proposal, and Esme’s right, it’s impressive. Who knew Mason had such a head for business. I mean, yes, he owns a bar—the kitschiest, dirtiest tiki bar known to the history of man. But his branding is on point. It’s perfect for him: the penis shirts, the dirty drinks, the Instagram account full of crass silliness. He has an impressive following, and he’s made his bar a destination.

Maybe Mason’s really good at business, and he can market anything—from high-end jewelry to crass tiki drinks. And here he is creating a whole plan for me. When the heck did he do all this?

At the bottom of the email is a link to the Tate Jewelry website.

I don’t have a website—or I didn’t. I didn’t make this one.

I click on the link, and the site pops up: sleek, elegant, with high-end photos. It gives the impression that I could be a fancy designer in any costal city, ready to play in the big leagues.

Is Mason a web designer? Did he hire someone to do this? I know you can get a Squarespace site and drag and drop, but this looks super high end. It looks like everything I want it to be.

And when did he get photos of my jewelry taken?

I suddenly realizethisis Mason’s secret project. At some point, in the midst of hanging out at the beach house, dealing with Sam, and running his own business, Mason also organized and created the Tate Jewelry website.

The images on site are a mix of gorgeous product shots with elegant set-ups against orchid and geode backgrounds. Maybe he got Kendall to help him. She’s the queen of wedding design. But there are also images of my jewelry on a model. I can’t see the model’s face, the images are close ups of necks and ears and hands. Only, I recognize that blood-red hair … is that Arie? Don’t Arie and Mason hate each other?

When did Mason do this? And when was he going to tell me about it?

The rain starts pounding harder. My shirt is drenched. But I also can’t breathe in this cab because so much is hitting me all at once: a Tate Jewelry website, a branding plan, a photoshoot, the cast ofBillionaire Heatwants to wear my jewelry!

My brain is swirling.

I pull up my texting screen and start typing.

Naomi:What is this?

I copy and paste the link to the Tate Jewelry website and send it to Mason.

I try to breathe. Even with the window open my entire windshield is foggy. My heart is beating so hard, I might be having a panic attack. The movie star Estelle Bennett wants to wear my jewelry! That’s not normal. That can’t be happening!

Mason:Surprise.

I look at Mason’s response, and I want to scream.

Naomi:I didn’t give you permission to make this!

Mason:True. But you also never gave yourself permission to make it either. So, someone had to.

Naomi:This was private. Personal. I make that jewelry for me.

Mason:Yes, but deep down, you also want to sell your work. You want to see your art on other people. You’re just scared.

I open my truck door and step out into the torrential downpour, letting the water beat down on me with all my anger.

Naomi:Yes. Maybe, I am scared. Maybe, I’m not ready. But this was a huge overstep! I shared the jewelry with you in confidence.

Mason:Then take the website down.

Take it down? He set all these things in motion. How am I supposed to take it down?

Mason:Just remember, the only one standing in the way of your dreams is you.

I bristle at that comment, wanting to chuck my phone in the ocean. Who does he think he is? This is my work! My decisions.

Naomi:And you told Esme!

Mason:Did Esme tell you your work sucks and to stop making jewelry?

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