"Honey, I hope it brings you all the love and glamour in the world. I couldn't imagine it going to a better home. This dress was meant for you."

I hugged her sweet-smelling, bony frame as hard as I dared, my chest filling with emotion. "Now, I just have to get over my fear of having Jack there as well as feeling like an imposter who tricked people into thinking I have a talent."

"Yes, you do have to get over that, honey," said Mrs. Weaton into my hair, patting me fondly. "You are extremely talented."

Jazz pursed her lips and raised her eyes at me. Told ya her expression said.

After getting changed again, we said our goodbyes and carefully carried the beautiful dress over to my place. I was relieved to have one less thing to worry about before the event the next evening.

My phone buzzed with a text from Jack just as we got into my house. A lump formed in my throat.

Late Night Visitor: Hope you got back safe.

G.o.d, we hadn't spoken all day. He'd barely looked at me and hadn't once touched me since we found out about the article. Now his short emotionless text left me swinging out in the cold.

Me: We did. How did it go?

There was a long pause before my phone beeped again.

Late Night Visitor: I was mostly unsuccessful talking him out of it. But he may keep your name out for now ...

Me: That's great. Wait, for now?

Late Night Visitor: Yes ... if he gets an exclusive on our relationship ... I'm sorry.

Dammit. Panic flooded my system again. Part of me wanted to end things with Jack. It was too hard. But that felt about as possible as carving my heart out of my own chest with a blunt object. However, people had been known to hack their own arms off to save themselves.

Me: We should talk. In person.

Late Night Visitor: Dev and I are staying in Savannah for now, won't be back til late tonight.

I watched as a new bubble emerged on the screen, showing me Jack was writing something else. Then it disappeared and no text came.

My chest squeezed. I wanted to tell him I missed him. I wanted him to say something-anything to help ease this ache, this feeling that we were eons apart from each other emotionally. I wanted to say something funny and sweet, but all inspiration was gone. I was panicking and I knew it. I'd spent an amazing night with Jack, and suddenly the reality of today had made it all seem like an impossible dream. How could we possibly have a future together that I would be able to handle?

Having had to blow off my lunchtime shift once again today, I headed into work for my evening one. I'd told Brenda about the reporter over the phone and apologized profusely. The possibility I wouldn't be able to work at the Grill much longer without feeling like a curiosity at a county fair weighed heavily. As soon as it was common knowledge I was with Jack, I'd need to rea.s.sess, but I needed the money. Now more than ever.

Brenda was there, and a girl named Lisa, who worked most summers, and had been in sporadically over the winter months. She'd had to cover for me the last few days. Normally off-season, one waitress could handle lunch but business had picked as it got closer to the season. The excitement of Jack and Devon hadn't quite calmed down yet, either. It didn't help that a couple of the local newspapers had picked up the story.

"Uh, Keri Ann." Brenda nabbed me as I headed to the kitchen just after nine. It had been a busy evening and was only now starting to clear out. She nodded at the bar where a middle-aged gentleman with a long sleeved black crew tee and black rimmed gla.s.ses sat staring at me, his finger running absently up and down the side of a frosty water gla.s.s. His dark hair was thinning, his face bland.

"I think that's the reporter," Brenda murmured. "He was the one in here the other day asking about Jack."

A wave of nerves broke violently inside me. There was no point running from this guy. He clearly knew who I was.

"Okay, I'll be right back." I took the dirty items I was carrying through to the kitchen. Hector had his back to me and steam was billowing out of the huge industrial dishwasher. I joined him, and we worked quickly together as I helped him put in another load.

I knew Hector felt like he was personally responsible for Jack and me, having had a front row seat since the first night we met. "I need luck tonight, Hector," I said. "There's a guy out there waiting to talk to me and make me look like a ..." I searched around for an egregious word that he'd understand. "a puta."

There. The Spanish word for wh.o.r.e should suffice, considering how serious the situation was.

Hector hissed through his teeth and turned to me, crossing himself. "No. Miss Keri Ann." His wrinkled gaze was serious. "You have angels fly over you. Todo estar bien."

Except he said "Un-h.e.l.ls", instead of angels, which totally made me smile despite the gravity of my mood.

He smiled back and pulled me in for a hug.

"Ok." I blew out a breath. "Here I go."

Standing on the dock at Broad Landing in the grey early morning light, I waited for Jack.

I'd sent him a text after work last night and told him I'd met Tom Price, the reporter. Tom seemed like a nice enough guy at first. I'd introduced myself to him promptly after exiting the kitchen, which seemed to surprise him.

"I guess you were expecting me to run?" I'd asked him.

"Maybe," Tom Price replied. "They either run or they want the publicity or money for the story. So that tells me a lot about you, though I didn't expect that."

I shrugged. "I don't want that either."

"Somehow, I believe you. So why are you talking to me?"

"Would you like me not to?"

That seemed to flummox him for a moment. "I think I like you," he said.

"Enough to keep my name out of the story?"

"Probably not that much," he admitted, his brown eyes blinking like fish behind the lenses of his gla.s.ses. "Besides, it's my editor who makes the final call, not me."

"Do you enjoy what you do?" I asked.

He smirked. "Are you always this direct?"

"I try to be. So do you?"

"I don't think I've met anyone quite like you in the course of my job before."

"I could say the same. But you still didn't answer my question."

"I'm supposed to be asking you questions."

"So ask. I may not answer, but I won't lie." My virtue or my downfall, I never knew.

He'd furrowed his brow. "I'm recording you, is that okay?"

I looked at the cell phone lying on the bar top. "Something tells me you don't usually ask permission."

He laughed, revealing tobacco stained teeth. "Okay. Are you having an affair with Jack Eversea?"

"No," I said. Then at his frown, and because I'd already seen the proposed article and knew there was no way to hide it, I admitted, "But I am having a relationship with him."

He smiled, a slow smile, like a cat. "Thank you," he said. "That's all I needed." Tom Price slid his cell phone off the bar and stood. "I'm going to tell you this, Keri Ann Butler, because you seem like one of the good ones ... and I can see why he likes you."

I swallowed. Something told me I'd just royally messed up.

"What?"

"If you hang around with the Jack Everseas of the world, don't speak to people like me. Ever. And, don't expect to be known for anything other than the attention he chooses to give you. When he's done with you, you will cease to exist, for him and for everyone else."

Sh.e.l.ls and gravel crunched behind me and I heard Jack clear his throat. His mere presence pa.s.sed a current through me. I'd missed him, not having seen him since we got back from our secluded island getaway and been faced with our first major hurdle. A hurdle I felt like we'd both failed to clear.

His warm fingers curled through mine, and I squeezed them. I smiled in spite of my grim mood.

Jack turned me to face him, hands on my shoulders. His dark brown hair was messy, like he'd been tugging on it or sleeping under a pillow.

My fingers itched to slide through the glossy locks and pull his rugged face and full lips down to mine.

His eyes roamed my face, and he must have had the same thought, because we both moved into each other, our lips meeting, the relief of touching him gliding through me in a ripple of longing. "Good morning," I managed through kisses.

"I missed you," he breathed.

Jack's arms roamed by back and I pressed against him, curling my body against his larger frame. Seeking comfort. "Me, too."

"G.o.d, I'm sorry I reacted so badly yesterday morning when we found out. I felt like I'd failed you, I did fail you, and I couldn't bear to see how upset you were."

"I'm sorry too, Jack. And I'm sorry Audrey keeps trying to hurt you."

"She's the last person on my mind, trust me. It's you I'm worried about. And how this affects us."

We hugged for a few moments. Then I pulled back to look at him seriously. He seemed about to say something else.

"I don't want you to come to the art opening party, Jack." I spoke in a rush, before I chickened out, before he said something to change my mind. I steeled my nerves. I was probably going to say this all wrong. "I just don't want you there-"

He flinched.

s.h.i.t. "And now after ... this story, after Ashley even ... if they see me with you, people will think the worst of me." I wish I didn't sound so childish and petty. So selfish and uncaring. It was so out of character for me, and I knew it.

"No they won't. Because I'll tell them you're my girlfriend."

My eyes stung with tears. "I already did. I admitted to Tom Price we were having a relationship. I probably wasn't supposed to do that from the way he acted. I guess you didn't confirm it for him."

"I didn't, I never do." Jack shook his head. "But it doesn't matter. Don't let him get to you."

"You may be used to this circus," I swiped at my eyes, thinking about Tom Price's words and how they cut right to my fear of being just Jack's girlfriend, "and ignoring what people say about you, but I'm not. You said you would try and keep me out of the madness. How does showing up to an event with me fit into that? I'm so nervous about the event anyway. There are people from SCAD coming, and maybe some press. I don't want to be worrying about what people are thinking." Then the more sordid aspect made me shudder. "And if I'm supposedly your girlfriend, what will people think you were doing with Ashley? Especially if Audrey's story hits." I thought of England. "Especially with your reputation. I'll just be the next one in a long line."

"My reputation?" Jack swallowed. "Yeah, I guess I deserved that. But you know, Keri Ann, there's always going to be an Ashley. Someone saying they know me, or did something with me or whatever. Please. Please be strong enough to choose us over this."

He was right. "I want to Jack, I'm going to try to be strong enough to deal with that. But as it stands you're asking me to give up my own ident.i.ty, one that I'm only just discovering. My mother did it for my father, and excuse the cliche, but she lived a life of quiet desperation. That's what Joey sees for me with you, and I understand now. That's what you're asking of me. To never be recognized as my own person, always to be talked about in reference to you."

He grabbed my shoulders. "Even if people talk, it won't last forever. At least not with the same intensity. I know I promised to keep us secret, but I'm no longer in control, thanks to Audrey."

Panic washed over me.

"It's going to be impossible actually. I wish-"

"What?" I hiccupped a sob. "So you just want to go on business as usual and stick me in the slot of Jack Eversea's latest romantic interlude? Since your next movie is filming here, how convenient you have a local girl all lined up to take care of your lonely nights. And bonus, she gets to cash in on your fame to get some publicity." I breathed out roughly, already regretting my words and the bitterness in my voice. The way I'd just reduced the amazing thing we had between us to a cheap and shallow anecdote. I didn't need a tabloid to do it, I'd just done it myself.

Jack's eyes were dark.

"G.o.d, I'm sorry," I said, and wiped my eyes. "I'm so sorry. You know that's not how I feel about us."

"I don't think I really do know. I know that you're scared." He shoved a hand bleakly through his hair. "I wish you weren't afraid to be with me." His eyes settled on mine, and he looked so sad. "People use me all the time. They use my name and my status for everything. Being seen with me, wanting me to use or wear their product, their clothes, talk about it, wanting me at a party to raise their profile." He sneered, his mouth twisting. "Over and over again.

"But for once." He kicked at the ground. "For f.u.c.king once, I want to do that for good, for something I choose, beyond the bulls.h.i.t. Even beyond the charity stuff I do and money I give away to this and that, even the freaking sea turtles."

"You give money to the sea turtles?" I interjected. The first orange sun rays glinted off his glossy brown hair.

"Since I met you, yes," he said dismissively then looked at me intently. "I want to be able to use who I am to help you. I want to help you pay for SCAD, I want to save your house for you."

G.o.d. Mortification burned me from the inside out. He must have heard the whole conversation I had with Joey.

"And I know you won't let me," he went on before I could react. "You have too much pride, you'd think I felt sorry for you or something. I don't. Not even f.u.c.king close. Yes, I want to go to your party," he said fiercely. "If you don't want to use my name then I want to go and be there for you, as your boyfriend, not as Jack Eversea. I know this is the biggest thing you've ever done. And I'm so proud of you even though I have no right to be."

"But you can't be there as my boyfriend and not as Jack Eversea," I said quietly, my eyes casting down to his chest. "They're the same thing as far as everyone is concerned."

"You're right, and what's wrong with that if it means more people show up and more people pay attention to how d.a.m.n talented you are? And no, since we're being honest," he ground out, "I don't want to keep us a secret." He jabbed his chest, hard. "I'm just a guy in here. A mostly insecure, when it comes to you, depressing idiot, who has created this life of grand illusion. But it is my life. Without it, I wouldn't have you, but with it, I can't really be with you?" he asked. "It makes no f.u.c.king sense. I want you to see it all for the sham it is and look through it to me ... I want your brother's approval only because I realize I'll never fully have you without it. I also want you to not give a s.h.i.t who's watching. I want you to be proud of being with me and not care about what people might say about us." He pointed to his chest again. "Because I don't care what people say about us."

My eyes stung sharply before filling again and blurring my vision. All my joy and happiness at being with Jack-and fears enough to cancel the good stuff out-swirled blindingly together.

"I don't think I'm ready," I said in a small voice.

"What are you saying?"

"I need, I need time. I wish I could pause us." I cringed as Jack stumbled backward. "Please, Jack. Please try and understand. It's going to be hard enough for me to take this professional step without worrying about whether people are there for me or for you." I crossed my arms over my chest. "I, I need to do this by myself. If it goes well, I need to know it went well because of me and only me. And if it doesn't, then it doesn't."

"It will, regardless," he said, with exasperation. "But you're punishing me for something I can't control!"

Silence, brittle with tension, arced between us.

Then Jack's hands were on my face, his thumbs sliding under my eyes as I closed them, and a huge wave of emotion shuddered through my chest in a sob. "I'm sorry."

I'm an ugly cry-er, and that alone should have stopped me, but it didn't. I cried and cried, my shoulders heaving, until Jack had me pressed against his hard chest, his hand in my hair cradling me. Soothing me. Whispering to me like a child. Even though I should be the one soothing, even though I was the one punishing him for something he couldn't change. I hated being so pathetic, it wasn't me. It had never been me. And that made me cry harder.

I wanted to run. I wanted to run back to the past before I put myself out there and before I'd met Jack. I wanted to go back to the bland waiting period of a life un-begun. Back when dreams were just concepts and not the sinuous, glittering sirens they were now, taunting me to take a leap off the edge for them, to risk dashing myself on the rocks if I did something as stupid as try and grab on to them too tightly. I couldn't imagine how their smooth promises wouldn't slip through my fingers.

"G.o.d, please stop crying, Keri Ann, you're killing me."

I pulled out of Jack's arms, swiping my cheeks and nose with the back of my hand.