Don't You Forget About Tea (The Coffee Loft Series: Fall Collection) by Ellie Hall

Author:Ellie Hall [Hall, Ellie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-09-17T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

Tallula

My stomach feels like the never-ending drop on a rollercoaster—and not in a good way. I’d like to get off this ride, please.

Should I be embarrassed that Jesse seemed especially fascinated by my parents’ ostentatious home? At least he didn’t see my mother’s shoe closet—it covers at least five hundred square feet.

He had a wide-eyed expression as if he was impressed, which is no surprise if you've never been in a mansion like that before. But then something shifted as if he remembered that his world and mine were like the North and South Poles.

While sitting in the driveway, I filled out the digital paperwork, filing reports about who knows what. I know, I know. I should’ve read everything more carefully, but I’m running on too few hours of sleep and maybe one too many jumbo beignet buns. I’m not complaining about that. They’re gooey and good. Hollywood, eat my heart out. Or, um, my beignet buns.

I lean back slightly in the driver’s seat. This wouldn’t have been my reaction a few months ago. I would’ve kept to my strict diet plan, groveled apologies to Peter and all of his associates, and done my best to win back my friends. But I said goodbye to my Hollywood dream life.

Moink looks up at me with her big eyes from the passenger-side safety seat as if asking me why. I have the same question.

Musing, I say, “Could’ve been the pressure, the expectations, and the constant hustle to climb the Hollywood ladder. But what’s up there, anyway?”

I never stopped to really think about that. Fortune and fame are the obvious answers. After seeing the interior of my parents’ house, Jesse would argue that I had the former. Never mind that my parents cut me off when Peter and I got “Married.” No doubt they think I’m dumb. They’ll remind me how smart Mara is. Of course, it works both ways. Mother criticizes her for not trying harder with her appearance. For the record, Mara is beautiful in a slightly lower maintenance way than me. Though I’ve seen her skincare routine and it’s no joke.

As for fame, what is it even? Being known, popular, adored.

Moink makes her piggy sound.

“I adore you too. Yes, I do.”

Grappling with all this, a sigh escapes and I suddenly feel the familiar exhaustion that periodically appeared back in LA. Biting my lip, if I asked Dr. Internet for a diagnosis, it would tell me that it’s the feeling of burnout. The prescription is taking a break, which I’ve done—if not break my entire career—so why do I feel so tired now?

Moink squeaks.

I’m afraid I know the answer—is it pointing me in a different direction, as in Do not go back! If so, that scares me because it would mean staying here.

My headlights beam as I make the familiar turns, but away from the place I once called home and toward Pigs in a Blanket. My mother and father are going to be so upset.

With me.

About their house.

In general.

Truly, when are they not peeved about something?

At each other.

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