Chapter Fifty
Kaylee
I finish my cry behind the Sabal Palm Tree. Now I’m ready to face the world. Maybe.
When I get to the parking lot, I remember that I’m out of gas. Ugh. I sigh, of course I’m out of gas. And also, my car’s around the corner. It’s just going to be that kind of day.
Determined to make the best of it, I look on the bright side. A nice walk is exactly what I need. Despite today being the crappiest day ever as far as the Kaylee ledger of awful things happening, the sun is out. It’s actually a pretty day.
A nice walk, that’s the perfect thing to clear my head. I jog around the corner to my car after I remember where I left it. Because of Vivian. I can’t really be mad at her though, I got myself into this mess.
I open the car door and rummage around in the trunk for the gas can. If life thinks this is the first time I’ve been hung out to dry and left on the side of the road with an empty gas tank, life is wrong, baby. I’ve got this.
I find the gas can and a few minutes later I’m doing the auto fuel walk of shame down the beach front avenue. I may have been temporarily fake engaged to an asshole billionaire, but I’m as low rent as they come, and I know it.
I know it to the bottom of my soul. I was a fool to ever think otherwise, for sure. Today Chase would be on a private jet back to the northeast with his victory. And I’m out of gas on the side of the road. And to top it all off, I just got fired.
Sure, I have the money he gave me to soften the blow. But something is gnawing at my insides. I hate it. His money feels dirty somehow, and this arrangement has brought me nothing but trouble.
Being low-rent, out-of-gas desperate feels right somehow, at least righter than being his charity case. The cruel words he spoke this morning seemed to come out of nowhere, but they hurt just the same.
Finally, I get to the nearest gas station, a Sunoco with a red and white building. Beads of sweat are making their way down my face and I’m glad to go into the store to pre-pay the gas can.
I’m third in line, but again it’s all good because air-conditioning. In fact, I’m eyeing the Slurpee machine when it’s finally my turn.
The twenty-something, bearded guy behind the counter stares at me. I look down at my shirt to make sure I didn’t put it on backward or something before I meet his eyes again. “What?”
The name tag on his shirt says Ted. Ted points to a television in the back of the room. “You’re that woman, the one all over the news.” He squints at me like I’m suspicious. “The news people say you’re engaged to that billionaire Covington.”
I sigh and roll my eyes, setting the gas can down and putting the cash on the counter. “So?”
“So what the fuck are you doing in here by yourself with an empty gas can, paying cash, and sweating like an elephant in the…”
“Careful,” I say, holding up a finger for him to stop. I’m in no mood. You can insult me for being poor or a bad judge of character, but there’s not a damn thing one can do about perspiring when walking any distance in the heat of the sun in the middle of summer.
He takes the hint and stops talking. Then he leans in and softens his expression and his voice. “Girl, what are you doing in here?”
“Buying gas.”
“Okay,” he says like he still thinks I’m up to something. “At least you’re not wearing that stupid hat.”
“Believe it or not,” I jump in, “the rich people made me wear it. To keep the paparazzi off of our backs.”
“Huh,” he says, “I guess that makes sense. But why, if they have all of that money, can’t they get cool hats to do it with?”
He scoops up the money and I take the can. “Excellent question. If I ever get a decent answer, I’ll come back and let you know.”
A quick fill up later, and I’m on the hot, humid road again. Only this time I’m lugging a full gas can. I switch from one hand to the other trying to get into a rhythm. I catch the ring out of the corner of my eye. It makes me sad. Just another reminder of the disappointment this day has been.
Did I really convince myself that he had feelings for me? There was no denying that despite my best efforts I have feelings for him. And that makes all of this so much worse.
By the time I get back to my car, I’m even hotter and sweatier. I fire up the old Civic and crank up the air conditioning. It feels so good.
Now that I’ve got gas, a functioning automobile, and air conditioning, I have to figure out what to do next. What I don’t have is a job. There’s Chase’s money but I’m not ready to deal with that right now. And the last thing I want to do is nothing.
I don’t have to think long. I only have one contingency plan and that’s Banana Burger. I put the car into drive and pull away from the resort.
I turn back to get one last look, because it feels awful and symbolic all at the same time. Like I’m driving away from a phase of my life that’s over forever. I guess that’s because it is. That job meant a lot to me. I told Chase that from the very beginning, but here I am.
I should have known that he’d get everything he wanted and then he’d just walk away. Or jet away as the case may be. But not before leaving my life in flaming ruins. And the worst part is he doesn’t
