Chapter 38

The woman is in rare form today and demands, “Tell me you didn’t fall in love with that photographer.”

I roll my eyes, unprepared for her drama. She just needs to get over the fact that Trent Long is a part of my life, and someone important that I care deeply about. The sooner she comprehends this, the better. Without caution, I explain, “I have fallen for him.”

She takes a drink of her fifth martini, gulps half of it down, and says, “That’s too bad. I thought you were smarter than that.”

“He saved my life.”

“How exactly did he do that?”

It’s my opportunity to walk her through the hurricane, how Trent and I decided to stay in the bungalow, and how I almost died. “My face was in four inches of water in my kitchen. I had a concussion. Trent came across me on the floor and saved me.” I show her a two-inch gash at my right temple where the piece of timber flew in through the window and struck me in the head.

“It doesn’t look that bad.”