My whole body clenched. 

"Lianna," I gasped, trying not to let the surprise show, but it was impossible. Red rimmed eyes and streaks of black mascara staining bloodless cheeks greeted me. "Is everything okay?"

The sad look on her face soured into something more...angry. "Seriously? That's all you have to fucking say? Am I okay?"

Okay, so Lianna was mad about South and not bothering to hide it.

I took a moment to compose myself before responding, which proved to be a fruitless effort because Lianna wasn't done.

"I mean, I tell you South is a good fuck, and suddenly you're into him?"

I drew in a deep breath and tried to remind myself that Lianna was my boss, and I was a PR specialist. I refused to fight in the women's bathroom like a couple of high schoolers.

"I'm so sorry that you feel that way, but I promise that's not what happened. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, and neither did he."

Lianna let out a huff that twisted into a sob. She turned back to the mirror, studying her reflection. "You always know just what to say, don't you?"

The edge in her tone had my fists clenching. I knew I should just turn around and leave. Inform the Director that Lianna and need conflict mediation. This conversation should be happening in the conference room with a third party present. But the thought of explaining myself in front of another coworker caused a wave of embarrassment to wash over me.

"You're like the fakest person I've ever met, and I've lived in this town my whole life." Lianna pulled out a tube of Fendi lip gloss and swiped a line over her lips. "Smiling and saying nice things to my face, just to turn around and fuck the guy I'm into."

I'd never been in a physical fight before, but Lianna's bitter words were like fingers twisting in my hair, ready to throw me to the floor.

She thought I was fake? I don't know why that hurt so much, but it did.

"I'm sure you're the one that put South up to that fake-ass apology, too," Lianna snapped. "Weren't you?"

Fake-ass apology? Another wave of embarrassment rolled past the guilt and anger.

This wasn't happening. I wasn't this person. I didn't argue with girls over guys. And people didn't call me fake. People didn't really say anything about me at all except that I was nice. And professional.

I clenched my fists tighter. Maybe I was fake. Forgettable and fake.

"Listen Lianna, I'm not trying to defend myself. Or him. You're right, I should have told you." Even though I knew I should leave, I couldn't. The words were falling out of my mouth and I couldn't stop myself. "South and I hung out before I knew you were interested in him. He was my skydiving instructor, and one thing led to another. Then he asked me out for dinner. I mean, it all happened so fast, and I wasn't even sure if I wanted to date him."

Lianna just shook her head. "I always fall for the wrong guys. The bad boys. The ones who care more about what's in their protein powder than anything I have to say. Stupid, I know."

Another sob escaped. I didn't reply. I just watched as Lianna wiped fresh tears from her cheeks. Then she turned a look on me, and I noticed pity had joined her angry scowl.

"But you're falling for the wrong one, too. South doesn't know how to be in a relationship with anyone but himself. He's just like all the other rich boys floating around this town. Selfish and entitled and only looking for a hookup."

I was speechless. My thoughts hovered somewhere over my body, like I was watching this entire scene unfold from the ceiling.

Lianna reapplied concealer and powder, then touched up her mascara before turning to leave. The sound of her Jimmy Choo heels clacking over the tile.

"Even though I only knew her for a little while, I remember your sister being a loyal friend back in high school. Your sister was a good person. Lydie would have never done something like that to a friend."

Hot tears pricked in the corners of my eyes, and my heart was in my throat. Pounding out a too-quick pace.

The door to the restroom slammed shut, and I was left alone.

Lydie was a good person. Lydie was smart, and bold, and fierce. Lydie was everyone's best friend. I'd always relied on her advice to find my way, but having her memory thrown in my face was like swallowing a mouthful of ash.

This morning I'd woken up to coffee and a naked man telling me how much he wanted to date me. Then I'd been forced to endure the interview with a private investigator, only to find my boss crying in a bathroom.

My hand floated to my mouth as I looked at myself in the mirror.

What am I doing, Lydie? Is this what my life is without you?

One bad decision after another?

The sound of a bolt sliding out of a lock and a creaky bathroom stall door opening drew my attention over my shoulder.

Embarrassment poured over me like cold water and I straightened up. I was the Public Relations face of the Newport Yacht Club, and I didn't want to look like a lost little girl crying into her hands. Especially not in front of one of the hawkish older women who wore Chanel and flitted about the city like Newport royalty.

But it wasn't a hawkish older woman who appeared. It was Spencer's girlfriend. Stella. She emerged from the stall in a breezy dress, ringlets of light brown curls cascading past her shoulders. She fixed a sympathetic look on me as she made her way to the row of sinks.

"I'm so sorry you had to hear that," I blurted out apologetically. Rolling my shoulders back and pushing on a fake smile.

Fake, fake, fake. The words rang in my ears.

"Bad day?" Stella asked, not unkindly, but her question was as good as a needle.

My shoulders sagged, and I dipped my chin. "Yeah. I guess you could say that."

Stella washed her hands and dried them on a paper towel before pulling a small vial from her purse and dabbing a little liquid on wrists. The fresh scent of lavender filled the space.

"You know," Stella said, wearing a coy smile, "in my experience with so-called scoundrels and bad boys, they're really just big softies. Underneath all that arrogance, they're just waiting for the right girl."

I tried to plaster on a smile, but stopped myself. "Do you think so?"

Stella nodded, then set a comforting hand on my shoulder. Being around her had a calming effect on me. She was so graceful. So effortless. "Are you really seeing South? West's brother?"

There was no point in lying. Not after the screaming match she'd just heard. "I mean, we agreed to exclusively date each other until he leaves." Stella's little nose crinkled in confusion. I let out an awkward laugh. "It's hard to explain, but the short answer is yes."

"I get it, the Tenneys are a complicated family." Her hand slipped off my shoulder, and her gaze shifted to the door. "I blame their father."

That comment struck me as odd. I thought back to my conversation with Jack, and all of a sudden, I wanted to know what Stella knew.

"What makes you say that?"

"Just some things I've heard." She paused. "And seen."

"You've seen something?"

Stella hugged her arms to her chest. "I should get going. Spencer and I are finalizing which paintings are going up for auction at the art show."

Her steps were graceful as she started walking towards the exit, but there was a sadness in her eyes. And I wondered if she was somehow connected to the Tenney family. Or if Les Tenney had hurt her.

"Stella," I called out, rushing over to the door. She looked so vulnerable, and as much as I wanted answers, I didn't want to push this girl. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be nosy. It's just that I don't want to see anyone else get hurt."

Her blue eyes studied me, before she whispered, "If you're really interested, talk to the Head Chef up at Castle Hill Inn. He goes by Red. And well, Red knows a thing or two about Admiral Tenney."

"Thanks Stella."

She gave me a half-smile that didn't touch her eyes. "Anytime."

I caught a whiff of lavender again, and found myself asking Stella, "What perfume is that?"

"It's actually an essential oil blend I just started using. Sometimes I need a... distraction from my thoughts."

"Does it work?"

Stella unstoppered the little bottle and held it out for me to sniff. The scent was concentrated, but it forced my mind to focus. She gave me a long look, filled with that same sadness.

Her voice was light when she said, "I prefer listening to funny stories when I'm feeling anxious, but this does the trick, too." She handed me the bottle. "Here, you take it."

"Oh, no. I couldn't," I said quickly.

"Yes, you can. Dab it on your pulse points."

With a wave, Stella opened the bathroom door and walked out. Fluttering down the corridor and right into Spencer's waiting arms. They were effortless together. Easy.

The opposite of fake.

I took a whiff of the lavender oil and tried to let my body unclench.

I knew what I'd be up to at lunch tomorrow. Paying Red at Castle Hill Inn a visit.

A/N

Thank you so much for reading, as always!

I'm trying to decide who's POV the next chapter should be in. I'm wavering between West and Camilla. What do you think? Should we wander back to West for dinner at the Tenney house, or stick with Camilla?

xx

AJ