“What about Jackson?” My initial shock upon seeing the video had begun to dissipate, but at her words I tensed again. “This is bad for Jackson?”
“Yes. It’s clearly him in the video. He’s in his uniform.”
Oh shit. Sienna was right. He’d been there in an official capacity. I’m sure kissing the hell out of a civilian wasn’t on his list of primary duties.
She lifted her hand toward the phone. “And he just broke up with Charlotte.”
“She broke up with him.”
“Whatever! It doesn’t matter. Because now it looks like they broke up because of you. People here are going to talk. This could be bad for him. Very bad.”
I took another gulp of my coffee, staring at her, my mind spinning. What can I do? “Can we get the video down? Before it—”
“No. Like I said, it’s already everywhere. That’s not an option.” Sienna grimaced. “I know it wasn’t your intention, but this just made his life more difficult.”
“I didn’t do this on purpose! I’d given up on asking Jackson if we could be photographed together. I’ve given up on the whole stupid plan and fake engagement with Harrison.” I hadn’t explicitly made the decision about Harrison until just now, but it felt right. I was calling off the fake relationship. And I wasn’t going to quit acting, I was just going to quit pretending. My time in Green Valley, the few stolen moments I’d had with Jackson James, they’d been so essential.
Now that I’d had a taste of something real with someone real, I wasn’t willing to fake it anymore.
“Sienna, I was going to leave today, talk to Domino tomorrow and tell him I want out of the arrangement. I didn’t even think about the camera at the ATM. And Jackson kissed me. I didn’t know he was going to kiss me until it happened.”
“I know. I know you wouldn’t do this to Jackson on purpose, just like I know now that he never would have agreed to it. Jethro told me this morning that Jackson has been trying to clean up his image for the last few years, and he plans to run for sheriff when his dad retires. I do wish Jethro had told me before now, but this—” she gestured to the phone “—could derail all of that.”
My stomach hurt. The last thing I wanted was Jackson hurt. Even if everything between us ended forever yesterday, he mattered to me. Yes, I know that made me a little crazy, I barely know him, we’d spent less than twelve hours in each other’s company total, but still. He’d helped me see that I wasn’t willing to settle for pretending anymore. He mattered.
And even if he hadn’t mattered, I didn’t want to hurt anyone.
“And it’s not just Jackson I’m worried about. Rae, his father and mother and sister Jessica—who, as I’ve mentioned, is also my sister-in-law—will be upset, they’re all very close. I was just talking to Jess last night and she was so excited for her brother and his campaign.”
“Campaign?”
“Jackson’s dad plans to retire in three years. Maybe it’ll all blow over by then?”
Crap crap crap crap.
“Sienna.” I placed her phone and my coffee on the console table near the door and rushed over to her, grabbing her hand. “What can I do? What can I do to help? There has to be something. Please.”
She squeezed my hand. “Jethro has an idea.”
“Jethro? I thought Jethro didn’t get along with Jackson?”
“He doesn’t. Kinda. They—it’s weird. Men are weird and complicated. He wants to help, though. But first we need to call my sister.”
“Marta?” Marta had been Sienna’s manager since she’d started in the business and was a PR genius. “You think she can help?”
“I do. I want to run his idea by her. This is small-town politics we’re dealing with. Jethro is better at this stuff than me. But I feel like Marta will help us fine-tune the plan.”
“Okay. Okay. Sounds good,” I said, panicked. Calm down, Rae. Focus on helping Jackson. There’s a plan.
“Hey.” She gave me a sympathetic smile. “Get dressed and come up to the house in about an hour. We’ll all call Marta together.”
“Right.” I shoved my fingers into my hair before I remembered how knotty it would be.
“And Rae.”
“Yes?” I spun around to face her.
“Cancel your flight and have Sasha come out with some clothes and things. You’ll need to be in Green Valley for a while longer. At least a month.”
I quickly showered and dressed, braiding my hair in two long ropes instead of taking the time to blow-dry the thick mass straight. Then I powered on my phone, intent on calling Sasha, but paused when I caught sight of the time. LA was three hours behind Tennessee, 6:40 AM here was 3:40 AM there. She’d definitely be asleep.
But maybe Domino isn’t?
I received calls and texts from my manager at random odd hours, day or night, weekend, holiday, vacation, it didn’t matter. It was like he had no concept of time. On a hunch, I texted him:
Raquel: I know I was supposed to come back today, but I have to stay for a month longer. There’s a video that Sienna said is everywhere already. It is me in the video, and it’s not fake, but don’t provide any comment to the press. Call me when you get this, I’ll have my phone on.
I always used proper grammar when texting, a habit my mother—a tenured classics professor at a super exclusive private college—had hammered into me when I’d received my first phone.
“If you use U instead of you, or R instead of are, then you’ll only be allowed to text in Latin. And no emojis. Ever. Those aren’t language,” she’d said. I knew not to disobey. My mother never bluffed, and she always threatened me with Latin.
Not three seconds later, he texted me back.
Domino: I can call you now. I have news. Give me a minute to find someplace quiet.
Pacing into the kitchen, I set the phone down on the counter and crossed to the coffee maker. Before I had a chance to do much of anything, my phone rang. I didn’t even glance at the screen.
“Domino?” I heard club music playing in the background.
“Raquel.”
“What are you doing up so early?” Is he at the gym?
“I haven’t gone to sleep yet. Obviously.”
Yes, obviously. “Listen, the text message said it all, and I don’t have a lot of time to talk right now, but I wanted to let you know what’s going on. I won’t be back for a month.” This was true, but it was also a lie. I had more than a half hour to talk. But in Domino’s world, a half hour always turned into two hours.
“Fine. I can work with that.” I heard a door close, and the club music faded. “I’ve been giving you your space, but I have news, and you’re going to be happy. First, totally great if you want to stay at the Pepperidge Farm a little longer. And I’ve seen the video. I think it’s fabulous. A sheriff? Hot.” He over pronounced the t at the end of hot.
I tried to frown. I failed. And so I made sure my voice sounded extra grumpy. “He’s a deputy sheriff, not a sheriff. What is this news you want to tell me? The clock is ticking.”
“Okay then. I see you’ve recovered your spark. Good to know. Now, Gavin and his people called late last night, when the ATM footage broke of you with not-the-sheriff.”