Take Three (The Jilted Bride #2)(64)

My security detail kept them at a distance as I unlocked my door and slipped inside.

“Back so soon?” my mother looked up from her book.

“Yeah,” I walked into my kitchen and turned on the coffee maker. “I almost forgot I couldn’t go for a run in the daytime without paparazzi hounding me. I’m going to drink some coffee and read a book instead.”

I opened up my cabinet and saw several pounds of Autumn Wonder coffee organized by blend, flavor intensity, and purchase date.

UGH!

I pulled them out one by one and hurled them into the trash. I broke all the “I love Autumn Wonder” plates I’d received from their customer loyalty program and poured all their signature creamers and delicious juices down the drain.

My mother and I had been in New York for less than a day and I should’ve been happy to be in my familiar element. I should’ve immediately pulled something remarkable from my wardrobe and changed clothes. Instead, I was still wearing a pair of Wal-Mart sweatpants and one of Ethan’s muscle shirts.

I vowed to rip off the charm bracelet he’d given me and flush each of the charms down the toilet, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. The bracelet was truly a work of art and I wanted to keep it forever—whether I was over him or not.

“Is there any particular reason why we had to leave Fayetteville so soon?” my mother put her book down on the coffee table.

“No…”

“Selena,” she walked over to me and patted my back. “Tell me the truth.”

I broke down. “He lied to me, mom! He was lying to me the entire time!”

“What are you talking about?”

I rushed back into my room and pulled out a copy of the latest Fortune magazine—I’d bought twenty more copies before we left so I could burn them at my leisure.

I walked back into the living room and tossed it to my mom.

“The guy I was dating? The one you said was cute and charming? He’s the CEO of Autumn Wonder! He was there to spy on your shop and get your recipes. He helped to put you out of business! He did that on purpose!”

She read the article and sighed. “Wow…I never would’ve thought that about him…I guess I can kind of understand it from a business perspective, but Sweet Seasons was going to close eventually anyway Selena. We’d been losing money and customers for months, and we didn’t have the means to operate any faster or any cheaper. Maybe it’s—”

“Don’t justify what he did, mom! He’s a liar! A LIAR!” I picked up a couch pillow and yelled obscenities into it. “Why can’t you see that?”

“I do see that Selena,” she hugged me and walked back over to her chair, “and I am upset about this entire situation—very upset. If I ever see him again, I have a few choice words I’d like to say and I would definitely let him know how manipulative and wrong he was. I doubt I’ll get that chance though…Closing the shop hurt me a lot, but it happened for a reason. Now, I just want to move on and seek out another source of happiness…”

I sniffled and set my pillow down. “I’ll try to move on too…without Ethan Reynolds—Lockwood, whatever his name is.”

“You know,” she let out a soft laugh, “even though I’m furious with him at this moment…you did say you wished he was famous. He kind of is, right?”

“WHAT! Really mom?

“Selena?” Joan set a cup of warm tea in front of me. “We need to go over a lot of things rather quickly.”

I nodded my head.

“All the interviews this week will be about your film that comes out in January. I’ve specifically told the interviewers that they’re not allowed to ask any personal questions. I told them we’d immediately pull the plug if they even alluded to your personal life. Is there anything else I need to tell them?”

“No…”

“Great,” she wrote on a notepad. “Mr. Lockwood has requested to be put through to your line over twenty times today. Do you—”

“Keep telling him I’m busy.”

“Will do. Since you’ve got a charity dinner at eight o’ clock with the Girl Scouts Foundation, I’ve booked a room at the hotel next door so you can change beforehand. We’ll need to rehearse your speech at least five times today and you’ll need to sign a hundred cookie boxes before the event begins. I’ve whittled the publicist candidates down to two, so when do you want to meet with them to decide which—”

“Can you pick one for me, Joan? I trust your judgment one hundred percent.”

“Not a problem. Do you want to reschedule your interviews? You don’t have to throw yourself into everything so soon. You don’t owe anyone anything.”

“No. I’ll be okay. I need to do this.”

She frowned. “In that case, I snagged you a few meetings with eight potential endorsers this week. They want you to look over the—”

“I’ll do them all. I just want to be kept as busy as possible. Can you make sure that happens?”

“Absolutely.”

I smiled through my interview on The View, dodging their not-so-subtle attempts to pry into my personal life.

I completed each of my radio and late night talk show interviews with a renewed sense of restraint and class—remembering all the techniques Joan had taught me over the past few weeks: “If an interviewer starts to get too personal, redirect the question towards them,” “If they begin to speak on a subject you’re uncomfortable with, smile, politely change the subject, and speak about whatever project you’re there to promote,” “If you ever get uncomfortable during an interview, look towards Joan and give her ‘the look’ so the interview can come to an end.”