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Life's a Beach
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2020-12-12 11:04:26The room was amazing! Bree had stayed in a lot of different places over the last year and a half since she’d started doing bigger gigs with more famous groups, but none of them had a beach a hundred yards outside of the room.
Standing in the living area of the room, she could hear the ocean outside of the open windows and knew she would be able to hear it from the bed as well. The warm breeze billowed the white curtains, and she stood near the comfy couch and took it all in. She’d managed to get the dream vacation she’d been longing for, help out a f
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A horrible ache started in the pit of her stomach and rapidly spiraled through her inner organs out through her extremities until Bree’s entire body seemed to be on fire from the inside out. “Wait--what?” Maybe she hadn’t heard Trent correctly. Maybe this was all a joke. Hank was known for being a prankster. “Excuse me?”The fact that Trent’s blue eyes were focused on his shoes let her know she had heard him correctly, though. This wasn’t an awful dream. This was reality. He was marrying Monica Edge. “It’s me
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Bree looked crestfallen, her eyes downcast, lost and out of place. Trent hated that he was the one who’d made her look that way. She was even more beautiful now than she had been the last time he’d seen her, that day at the convenience store when he’d insisted on stopping, despite his then-girlfriend’s objections. He’d seen Bree’s car, knew she was in town for Christy’s party, and wanted to see her even though he knew it wasn’t in his best interest.He hadn’t regretted seeing her, only that she didn’t want to
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It was no surprise at all that Hank was late. In fact, Bree would’ve been shocked if he’d been on time. But when he knocked on her door at 9:30 that evening, she wasn’t upset at all that he was late. It had given her a little more time to work on a new song she was writing and a little less time to be in the same room with Monica and Trent.“You look purty!” Hank exclaimed as she opened the door.
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“Man, that’s bullshit,” Hank was saying as he and Bree walked home. The streets were a little crowded around the club, but once they got closer to the resort, there were less people, and Bree felt herself sobering up with the beach air in her lungs.“I mean, I guess I can’t blame her for being upset. I’d be upset if my fiancé was dancing with someone else, too. I guess.”
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Two weeks later…. Bree sat on the beach, a drink one hand, Trent’s fingers interlaced with her other where it lay in the sand. The ocean waves rolled in, wetting the sand near their toes, the sun baking down on their tan skin as it dried from their first dip in the ocean. There would be plenty more.&nbs
Meant to Marry Me Judgment
The sound of the gavel echoed throughout the courtroom. No one said a word for what seemed like the longest few seconds Bree could ever remember. Then, the people around her came back to life, and she found air in her lungs again. “Are you okay?” Trent asked. He was always asking her that, checking on her, making sure she was all right. Bree nodded. She was all right. She was going to continue to be all right, too. It seemed like a nightmare that had lasted almost two years was finally over.&nb
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Yet again, Bree found herself speaking to a police officer. This time, she wasn’t the one lying in a hospital bed, though. Instead, after they’d pieced together enough of the story to know that the maintenance man had been trying to make it so that the pipe above her head would move down, Bree and her bandmates had been asked to come to the police station. The others were sitting outside, or maybe one or two of them were being interviewed by other officers now. All she knew was the man sitting across from her, Detective Coop Wellington, didn’t look like the sort of person one kept information from. “We know Monica and this&helli
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“All right--Bree Matthews!” a stagehand shouted, coming over with a clipboard and a microphone on his head. “Are you ready?” “We are ready!” Bree said for all of them, bouncing on her heels. “Then, head to your spots.” He signaled for them to approach their section of the stage. The band had been prepped on how this would work before the show. They headed to the places they’d been told to earli
Meant to Marry Me Audience
Sitting in a chair, staring at a runway, brought back way too many uncomfortable memories for Trent. Had it really just been a little over a year since he’d spent at least one or two days a week sitting in just such a chair, waiting for Monica to come down the stage? It seemed so strange now. He tried not to fidget, but his leg was bouncing up and down so quickly, he was glad he wasn’t outside because he might manage to start a fire with the right kindling--and like Bree, he’d had enough of fire for one lifetime. “Are you all right?” Celia asked, leaning over to whisper in his ear. “You’re making me nervous, an
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Anxiety bubbled up in Bree as she stood in the staging area, getting ready for the big show. All around her, models and bands were putting the finishing touches on their makeup and hair, the models getting into their first outfits so that they’d be fully prepared to grace the runway as soon as it was their turn to take the walk and show off the newest fashions to an invigorated audience. From what Bree could tell, this wasn’t actually one of those fashion shows where the clothing was practical and might be bought by the average housewife. No, it was mostly lingerie, and it was mostly, well, ridiculous, in her point of view. None of it was s
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The sound of voices from the television met Bree’s ear as she walked through the apartment door. She checked the time on her phone. It was only a little past 3:00. What was Trent doing home? She had to assume it was him watching the television because it sounded like the news channel, and if the housekeeper had turned it on, it would’ve been a soap opera or court show. Hanging her purse by the door, and placing her keys where she could find them, she went into the adjoining room to investigate. Trent was sitting on the couch with his laptop open on his lap, his stocking feet on the coffee table, typing away. She almost didn’t want to
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Meeting Monica at the event center where the Nashville Nights concert was to be held was intimidating, even though Bree had her bandmates with her. She had insisted Trent go to work; it was a Thursday afternoon, after all, just after lunch, and there was no reason for him to miss work to walk with her through the building where she’d be playing in a couple of nights, not when she had three capable men and Shawna with her to give her moral support.Trent had protested, saying he’d feel much more comfortable if Bree allowed him to go along, that the rest of the band wasn’t aware of how Monica could be. It had almost led to an argument. Bree had insisted she wasn&
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“This is a horrible idea. The worst one ever. In the entire history of the world, I cannot imagine one idea worse than this one.” Celia sat across from Trent in his office, her arms folded, her legs crossed, her face puckered.At the moment, he couldn’t even allow himself to snicker at her exaggeration. While he agreed that what he was about to do was a terrible idea, he could think of lots of other ideas that were worse, many of them involving wars that had killed thousands or millions of people. Or spread disease. Or polluted the environment. But she was right--of all of the decisions he’d been directly involved in, this one was pretty awful.
