A buzzing sound came from her pocket.
Adelie dug for it. Her fingers seemed to lose their ability to clamp onto objects, and the phone slipped and crashed to the floor.
“No,” Adelie said with a little gasp. She dove, but it was too late. The screen read Missed Call: Maddox Hatter.
Adelie hugged the phone to her chest and slumped against the wall. She missed it. He finally called her, and she had to go and drop her phone.
Suzie peeked her head around the corner from the adjoined kitchen. “Was it Mr. Billionaire?”
Adelie stomped her foot. “He finally called, and I had to go and drop it.”
“Call him back.”
A brand-new crack streaked across her phone. Worried it would no longer work, she tested it with her finger and opened the call screen.
Tap.
“Adelie, hey.”
Maddox’s voice would have been the stuff of dreams, but she was too upset to notice.
“Hey,” she replied, amazed at her ability to speak with her heart galloping as fast as it was.
“I’m glad you returned my call. I’ve got some good news—or maybe you’ve seen already.” Delight decorated his tone. He was happy about this? “The images are ready. In fact, they’re in place now. We took the last several weeks getting everything set up—”
“You—you hung them up already?” Without showing her?
“They look absolutely remarkable. Seriously, you pulled this off with complete flair. The grand reopening is next week—”
She was still trying to process. Not only had the images been blasted all over social media, but they’d been hung up near the rides. She did sign a contract to give him permission to do what he wanted with the images. Still. He should have let her know.
“I’d love to have you join me. A news crew will be there; you can tell them all about your experience and—”
“No.” The last thing she wanted was another interview. More cameras? He was already displaying everything. The least he could have done was tell her. Instead, he’d made it public and she was the last to know. She was always the last to know. Her eyes slammed closed.
“I—Adelie, are you sure? It’d be great to have you there.”
Her jaw quivered. “No, thank you. I’ll be busy that night.” Busy hiding. Too late, she realized he hadn’t even told her the date or time of the reopening. Her aversion was obvious, but then again, maybe he wouldn’t get it. Maybe he was oblivious like Suzie joked about earlier.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. “Let me know if you change your mind.”
“I will,” she said, blinking away tears. She was ready to end the call. Ready to never speak with him again.
“I’ll deposit the rest of your money,” he added.
“Great. Thanks. Bye, Maddox.” She hoped he read the finality in her tone. She’d been so stupid, indulging in her fantasies based on two measly afternoons spent in his company and thinking it meant something. She’d been hurt enough. She couldn’t risk it again.
***
Maddox stared at his phone, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Here he’d expected her to be over-the-moon ecstatic, and she all but hung up on him. What was that about?
Things had been so hectic with the rushed timeframe his team had developed. He’d been distracted, approving each new idea and design for the rides. He had been trying to make the outrageous deadline with nothing but the end result in mind.
He’d considered showing Adelie sooner, but part of him wanted to present the finished product to her and see the light in her eyes when she witnessed herself as Alice.
He’d never expected her to decline. Not only that, but to pronounce herself busy? He hadn’t even told her the date of the reopening.
Maddox had thrown out the reminder of the money, hoping to prolong the conversation or lead it in a new direction, to get her to open up to him again, but it had only seemed to bother her more. This was not going as he’d planned.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
A week later, Adelie pushed the shopping cart along the produce section of Coleman’s Grocery and stopped at a particularly juicy display of apples. Soon it would be summer, which was her favorite time of year for produce. Corn on the cob, prickly pineapples, cherry tomatoes, new potatoes, and grapes the color of plums.
She couldn’t deny that having enough funds in her bank account to pay for food—without having to worry about where the money was going to come from—made shopping that much more satisfying. But having her pictures smeared all over the news and social media outlets made her queasy. She couldn’t go anywhere without seeing her own face plastered on a billboard or a newspaper, and each new sighting stripped away another layer of whatever well-being she had left.
The resulting nervousness she had was outrageous. She hadn’t been able to relax enough to sleep soundly since the images had surfaced, since Maddox had invited her to Wonderland’s reopening. Anxiety made swiss cheese of her insides.
She occasionally managed to steady her breathing and find peace of mind enough to do her studies and finish the homework for her classes, but it would be frayed by a well-meaning neighbor’s comment or a new tag on Facebook. She really needed to stay off social media.
Adelie knew people were only being kind or excited and trying to show their support, but every comment, every statement, made her feel that much more vulnerable. Celebrities dealt with this all the time, she told herself. They still juggled their careers with a semi-normal life.
But she was no celebrity. She was just her. Just plain and simple Adelie. She hadn’t asked for this fame. Hadn’t sought it out, which was probably the reason these thoughts never consoled her. She still felt as though the pictures had embedded some sort of tracking device inside her, that people were watching her everywhere she went, even as she
