The diet pills are next to the basin inside my bathroom. Still topless, I walk inside and read the back of the bottle so I can google the ingredients. I type into my phone tender breasts, hoping for some medical advice and connection to the pills. But as I click on the top results, my stomach churns. The A/C is on, yet the room is stifling hot as my eyes read across the page. There’s mention of breast cancer, and although we don’t have a history of that in our family, anything is possible. I try not to let my mind exaggerate and conjure up crazy scenarios. But then, the website delves into hormonal changes resulting from menstrual cycles to pregnancy.
My period.
Shaking my head, I stare blankly at the shower while trying to calculate my last period. It was about a month ago, or maybe a little bit longer. It was lighter than usual, but I’m not a heavy bleeder like my sister. Instead, I’m fortunate enough to have light cycles.
And as for pregnancy, you have to have sex to fall pregnant.
I continue to read, noting some of the other symptoms I’ve had of late, including fatigue. When I finish reading, I’m no closer to a self-diagnosis and decide to call my doctor to see if she can squeeze me in.
Dr. Taylor's receptionist informs me of a last-minute cancellation, which doesn’t leave me much time to get ready and head downtown. Just as I’m about to go charge my phone, it pings with a text.
Millie: Three weeks from now, clear your schedule. We’re going to Cancun! Mom is in, Addy is in, and I even got Alexa. You can’t say no!
When Millie puts her mind to something, she makes it happen. I just didn’t expect it to be this quick.
Me: I’m in.
The afternoon schedule is tight, no thanks to my last-minute doctor’s visit. Dr. Taylor goes through the usual questions. How I’ve been feeling, what I’ve been doing, and then requests I take a blood test. Not wanting to come across as rude, I try to get out of there fast to avoid the wrath of Eric.
I make it with only a few minutes to spare, which is very unprofessional of me, given tardiness is my biggest pet peeve when it comes to working. Eric rushes me to hair and make-up without a hello.
The dress is elegant yet simplistic. The purpose is to focus on the hotel’s surroundings, therefore not distract with a gown that demands attention. My hair is styled in mermaid waves with natural tones for my makeup. The make-up artist does a fantastic job of bringing out the emerald color of my eyes.
I pose around The Four Seasons for the rest of the afternoon while the photographer takes what feels like a million shots. By the end of it, I’m utterly exhausted, drinking a whole bottle of water in one sitting and narrowing the fatigue down to dehydration.
“You were fabulous, honey.” Eric claps his hands while the photographer packs up his equipment. “I have some amazing news for you.”
“You’re Donatella Versace’s long-lost son?”
“Don’t you tease me, Miss Edwards.” Eric points his finger with a playful grin. “Victoria’s Secret has decided to switch up their new campaign and wants influencers. They specifically requested you.”
“Me?” I touch the base of my neck with a confused stare. “When, where?”
“Well, here’s the catch…” Eric trails off, which is never a good sign when it comes to him. “It’s tomorrow in the Bahamas. Before you get all worked up, I can reschedule your week to make it work. It’s only three days.”
I cross my arms, smelling a rat. “That’s last minute. I’d assume they’d have this planned for months, not days?”
“They did, but the venue they chose was wiped out by that hurricane last week. So, they had to find another location in the Bahamas to suit the shoot, but it means they had to bring it forward. A few models aren’t able to travel right now, and so they decided to switch up the campaign.”
My eyes scan Eric’s face, studying his expressions to make sure he’s telling the truth. Of late, he has tip-toed around me because of Miami. I don’t blame him, given my mood swings and shattered confidence.
I let out a loud breath. “You know what, I’m in. Leaving Manhattan is very appealing right now.”
“Fantastic!” Eric pulls his phone out then draws his attention back onto me. “I see big things in your future, Ava. My tarot reader even said so.”
“Your tarot reader read my future?” I repeat, raising my brows.
“Anyone in my life who I bring up. I knew you were having a tough time of late, so I asked, and she delivered.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “What else did she say?”
“Big things are coming your way. Life-changing. It’s this trip, I know it.”
Suddenly, Lochie comes to mind. Maybe it isn’t the trip, but rather my love life. I pull my phone out, half-listening to Eric, and send Lochie the text I’d been putting off.
Me: Are you free this Friday for dinner?
Lochie: So, you are alive? It depends…my pick?