The Sweetest Summer

Chapter Forty-Seven - Remember That Night?

The flight back to New York was fairly uneventful. I had been wallowing in my own self pity since Eli had left two days ago. He'd been practically radio silent these past forty-eight hours and it bothered me.

In the brief phone call we'd had at three o'clock this morning, he told me that Aric, their director, had really flown off the deep end. He'd began to address each cast member by their character name and adamantly refused any 'outside distractions' - cell phones included.

"Wait, are you really her?!" A nervous voice asked over my Chill Hits playlist and I turned.

"I'm sorry?"

"Are you really Avery Adams?" The small twenty-something brunette asked beside me. Her black NYU hoodie seemed to rise and fall each time she breathed, which was a lot. I guess I made her...nervous?

"Yeah, but you can just call me Avery." I grinned.

"Cool. Avery." She tested out my first name only. "Can we take a photo, Avery?"

"Okay." I agreed, wishing I had on something other than a black sweater and yoga pants for my first fan selfie. "The trick is all about the angle..." I held her camera a little higher and to the side and we both smiled.

"Wow. You're right. Thanks." The girl quickly posted the photo on every social media platform she had. I smiled as I put back in my headphones and looked out the window at the setting sun. It was bittersweet leaving Malibu behind, but I knew it wouldn't be for long.

While dragging me around to open houses, my mom and I actually found one I liked. It was a ten minute walk down the beach from my parents' home and was a three bedroom, three bathroom gut job. The kitchen was a terra-cotta brown color from the sixties, and the carpet had several questionable stains, but I fell in love with its bones. The original white crown molding above the windows provided a picture frame to the waves and pristine white sand beach outside. I put in an offer that day, and the seller had immediately accepted. I doubted they knew what a jewel they really had. It just needed a little bit of polish.

Despite purchasing the beach bungalow, I still planned on keeping my New York City apartment too. I envisioned bouncing between the two when the house was finished with renovations, and I was actually back in the country. I'd be living a bicoastal lifestyle - as douchey as that sounded...

I grabbed my bags and my cab outside of La Guardia and made my way back to my cute little apartment, with my cute little doorman, in my cute little part of Manhattan. I sighed as I poured myself a glass of my favorite red blend and watched the life rush around under my windows. I loved living in a city that never slept, but sometimes, being surrounded by so many people, reminded me of how lonely I really was.

**************

The next morning, Franc looked as stunning, and as French as ever, dressed in a creme colored sweater and jeans that were tighter than any I owned.

"Mon Etoile...my star!" He greeted me lavishly from the sprawling living room of Katrina's massive Brooklyn loft.

"Bonjour, Franc." I kissed him lightly on both cheeks and blushed a little as he spun me. I'd decided to wear a simple navy a-line EVOL dress that complimented both my light hair and eyes while also hugging my curves.

"How've you been?" He asked me in French and was pleased when I replied also in French. Even though I'd only lived in Paris for a year, I could still be conversational which was all I'd ever hoped for.

"Did you get the contracts for Prada and YSL?"

"Yes." I quickly pulled the signed copies from my EVOL briefcase and handed them over. Collins had given me printer privileges this morning, part of our new peace act, observed after the disastrous New Years party.