character. I picked you as my best friend.” I eye her with a wan smile.
After a few more shots of tequila and one too many slices of pizza, I call it. “I don’t feel like talking about it anymore. I’m exhausted.” I’m so glad Krystal brought a movie, some action film. No chick flicks for Krystal, and for once, I’m grateful.
***
Wednesday, June 2
I’ve once again become a drone, going back and forth between my townhouse and Beacon Pointe, and I’ve begun to wonder what the point of my life is. Why am I settling for less than I’m capable of achieving? Why have I prevented myself from pursuing my dream? Is it because I failed with Marshall? I’ve been so determined to keep my mind off of Marshall that I’ve hardly touched my design portfolio.
It’s a rainy evening, and I collapse onto my couch with my tablet and decide that the words my father spoke about having my back and believing in me should not go unheard. I decide to buy a website domain and hosting package. I go with www.elizabethrosedesign.com, and within an hour, I have a website. I wonder what advice Marshall would have for me starting a new business? What would working alongside Marshall be like? Would I have the ability to focus with him next to me?
I lose myself in my work, all the while trying not to think about the disastrous experience with Marshall. Derek told me about his cousin Max, who is a great photographer and is just out of college. Thankfully, I can afford to hire him.
Over the course of two days, we go from place to place, shooting all my previous work. Max has as much if not more ambition than I do. Max is wonderful to work with, and I insist he let me help. I’m extremely thankful to be kept busy. He has me moving lights, grabbing light meter readings, and positioning every room element in line with every image as he looks through his wide-angle lens. I enjoy this part immensely and am grateful for our easy banter.
I’m running on very little sleep, but caffeine and straight-up hard-core determination can make you go for days—heck, maybe weeks. I will soon find out at the rate I’m going.
Chapter 11
Friday, June 4
Over dinner at my sister’s house, I receive a pep talk from Rose and Derek, who tell me incessantly how they are madly in love with their living room design. I decide that these next two weeks will be my last at Beacon Pointe.
I come home to an envelope taped to my door with the words
Please Read
in a black cursive handwriting that is clean and precise. I pull it down off the door and stare at it for a moment. I run through a list of possible messengers, but I cannot recall anyone having penmanship this nice. Perhaps a potential client? My landlord? Could it be …
him
?
I stare at the letter for some time before I head inside and place the letter, my purse, and my keys on the antique half-moon side table in the foyer. I walk away from the letter, feeling a sense of dread flow through me. I’ve done pretty well with averting my attention from Marshall, and I don’t know if I’m ready to revisit my heartbreak just yet. Perhaps I will read it later tonight, but for now, I just need to unwind.
I put the leftovers my sister gave me into the fridge. She insisted that they wouldn’t eat them, but I know it’s just her way of taking care of me. It was hard to argue since she had made one of my favorite fish taco recipes. Rose is a natural nurturer, born to be a mom and a teacher. I can hardly manage taking care of myself most days
A text from Krystal wakes me from my reverie.
We are still on for the music festival tonight, I hope. Dirty Red Doghouse is playing and would hate to go to it without you!
I pound the words onto my phone, feeling a rush of regret for agreeing to go.
I told you I would.
I had hoped to simply crash and burn while watching some gory action-filled thriller with no prospect of a love scene. My lack of sleep is finally catching up to me. But hey, I have successfully
After a few more shots of tequila and one too many slices of pizza, I call it. “I don’t feel like talking about it anymore. I’m exhausted.” I’m so glad Krystal brought a movie, some action film. No chick flicks for Krystal, and for once, I’m grateful.
***
Wednesday, June 2
I’ve once again become a drone, going back and forth between my townhouse and Beacon Pointe, and I’ve begun to wonder what the point of my life is. Why am I settling for less than I’m capable of achieving? Why have I prevented myself from pursuing my dream? Is it because I failed with Marshall? I’ve been so determined to keep my mind off of Marshall that I’ve hardly touched my design portfolio.
It’s a rainy evening, and I collapse onto my couch with my tablet and decide that the words my father spoke about having my back and believing in me should not go unheard. I decide to buy a website domain and hosting package. I go with www.elizabethrosedesign.com, and within an hour, I have a website. I wonder what advice Marshall would have for me starting a new business? What would working alongside Marshall be like? Would I have the ability to focus with him next to me?
I lose myself in my work, all the while trying not to think about the disastrous experience with Marshall. Derek told me about his cousin Max, who is a great photographer and is just out of college. Thankfully, I can afford to hire him.
Over the course of two days, we go from place to place, shooting all my previous work. Max has as much if not more ambition than I do. Max is wonderful to work with, and I insist he let me help. I’m extremely thankful to be kept busy. He has me moving lights, grabbing light meter readings, and positioning every room element in line with every image as he looks through his wide-angle lens. I enjoy this part immensely and am grateful for our easy banter.
I’m running on very little sleep, but caffeine and straight-up hard-core determination can make you go for days—heck, maybe weeks. I will soon find out at the rate I’m going.
Chapter 11
Friday, June 4
Over dinner at my sister’s house, I receive a pep talk from Rose and Derek, who tell me incessantly how they are madly in love with their living room design. I decide that these next two weeks will be my last at Beacon Pointe.
I come home to an envelope taped to my door with the words
Please Read
in a black cursive handwriting that is clean and precise. I pull it down off the door and stare at it for a moment. I run through a list of possible messengers, but I cannot recall anyone having penmanship this nice. Perhaps a potential client? My landlord? Could it be …
him
?
I stare at the letter for some time before I head inside and place the letter, my purse, and my keys on the antique half-moon side table in the foyer. I walk away from the letter, feeling a sense of dread flow through me. I’ve done pretty well with averting my attention from Marshall, and I don’t know if I’m ready to revisit my heartbreak just yet. Perhaps I will read it later tonight, but for now, I just need to unwind.
I put the leftovers my sister gave me into the fridge. She insisted that they wouldn’t eat them, but I know it’s just her way of taking care of me. It was hard to argue since she had made one of my favorite fish taco recipes. Rose is a natural nurturer, born to be a mom and a teacher. I can hardly manage taking care of myself most days
A text from Krystal wakes me from my reverie.
We are still on for the music festival tonight, I hope. Dirty Red Doghouse is playing and would hate to go to it without you!
I pound the words onto my phone, feeling a rush of regret for agreeing to go.
I told you I would.
I had hoped to simply crash and burn while watching some gory action-filled thriller with no prospect of a love scene. My lack of sleep is finally catching up to me. But hey, I have successfully
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