STANDING AT THE boat dock on Daufuskie Island in the morning sun, I deliver the ghastly news to Keri Ann that her relationship with Jack Eversea is about to become a tabloid sleaze-fest. I not only have to watch her throw up at the news but also watch her and Jack’s fragile new relationship unravel before my very eyes.
The new glow they had when I first saw them approaching the dock to meet the boat seems like I must have imagined it. They can barely meet each other’s eyes. The worst part is I can see they are each in so much pain and needing the other but for some reason aren’t facing this crisis together. I really thought they had something stronger than that.
During the boat ride, Jack Eversea spends the entire time on the phone “managing the crisis” with “his people” and Keri Ann draws further into herself.
If I wasn’t so emotionally spent myself, I’d say something to Jack and tell him to stop being such a meathead to Keri Ann. Couldn’t he see she needed him right now? Couldn’t he see that he needed her?
Devon meets us in his Jeep at a dock on Tybee Island and drives us to downtown Savannah.
“Joey is meeting us here later,” I tell Devon when I see Jack raise his phone to his ear again. “Keri Ann and I need to go dress shopping anyway.”
Devon nods. His gaze also swings between Jack and Keri Ann who are basically ignoring each other. “Okay,” he says dubiously. “We need to go speak to this guy, see if we can change the story. Just text if you need a ride.” He rattles off his number and I program it in my phone.
I catch his eye and shrug my shoulders, and he does the same. Clearly neither of us knows how to deal with our friends’ respective emotional shutdowns. Hopefully Devon will talk some sense into Jack. I’ll have to see what I can do with my best friend.
Keri Ann does still need a dress for her art auction event where she gets to be belle of the ball as a featured artist. I’m going to be wearing a short red cocktail dress I wore for a college formal I had to attend last Christmas.
After several stores and seventeen hundred awful dresses, I’m ready to go home. The shopping is a complete bust. I tell her we should go see Mrs. Weaton when we get back. She’s bound to have some vintage beauty hidden in her closet. She has such a mysterious air about her.
I can tell Keri Ann’s really hurting over the way things are with Jack. We end up going for a coffee at the Sentient Bean instead, and I text Joey to let him know where to meet us. For some reason when Keri Ann asks about Brandon, and I tell her we’re done, I decide not to mention what happened between Joey and me. I don’t like to keep things from my best friend, but I’m not really sure what to say.
When Joey pulls to a stop in my car, he gets right out and hands the keys to me before walking to the passenger side. He knows I like to drive my own car. Keri Ann climbs in the back seat, leaving Joey to the side of me.
“Hey,” I say and start the car.
“Hey,” he returns.
“Any trouble?”
“Driving a car?” he asks with an edge. “No.”
For the rest of the journey, I try to keep Keri Ann’s mind off Jack by asking her about details. She tells me all about how gorgeous the cottages are on Daufuskie. Eventually, both Joey and I try to reassure her that no matter what shit gets printed, it will be over soon, and people will move on. It’s nice to agree with him on something.
Yet the way Joey and I left things this morning hangs over me—like his eyes as he asked me about moving to Cape Town. Worse, the way he looked when I told him he should have kept his spot in Seattle. And now, the way he keeps glancing at me as I drive, tension radiates off him.
LATER THAT NIGHT I get a text.
Jay Bird: Thanks for today with Keri Ann.
Jazzy Bear: You’re welcome.
Jay Bird: I’d like to be your date for Keri Ann’s event. Will you let me do that?
Jazzy Bear: We’re going in a group. I don’t think I need a date.
Jay Bird: Humor me.
I roll my eyes but my stomach flutters.
Jazzy Bear: Fine. I’m getting ready at your house, so I guess we can meet in the kitchen.
Jay Bird: I’ll take it. I’ll meet you in the kitchen at 4:45 PM sharp. If you’re not there I’ll come upstairs to get you.
Letting out a long breath, I try to ignore the feeling in my belly. Then my phone rings with an unfamiliar number.
After a brief hesitation, I answer.
“Jazz, it’s Jack Eversea.”
I know I’ve met him a handful of times already, and even saw him yesterday and this morning, but I still have an instant starstruck reaction to hearing him announce himself on the phone. My heart jumps into my throat. “Uh, hi.”
“Sorry if I caught you by surprise, but I need your help.”