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forward.
    “Please, allow me, miss.”
    He gathers that bag and the other one when it comes down a few minutes later. He loads them onto a cart, and we head to his parked town car. He swiftly opens the door for me, and I pause before getting in, catching my first glimpse of a pack of photographers looming near the doors we just exited. A wave of anxiety swoops over me, and I can’t help but feel a little relief that Brandon isn’t here or I’m sure we would still be fighting our way through.
    “Everything all right, miss?” The driver looks at me with lines of concern etched between his brows.
    I nod and step into the car, and he softly closes the door after me before taking the luggage around to the trunk.
    A few minutes later, we are headed away from the busy airport and excitement replaces my moment of fear.
    As promised, I text Ashley and let her know I made it. I leave out the part about Brandon not being there to get me. For a moment I think to text my mom but decide against it and put my phone away. I emailed her before I left to give her the confirmation of the order I placed with a local bakery to do the cake and pastries for the baby shower. As predicted, if you ask nicely, people are willing to work with you, a lesson Valerie desperately needs to learn. At the end of the message, I assured her that I’d be back in time for the shower. She sent a reply to thank me for working out the deal with the bakery but did not mention anything about me leaving town.
    Valerie, on the other hand, caught wind of my plans and sent a colorful string of text messages to drive home her point that I am basically throwing my life away.
    I’m not sure what life it is I am supposedly throwing away to be with Brandon. I mean, let’s face it, I was working at a café making coffee and sandwiches, not formulating a plan for world peace. Of course I will miss my friends, family—well certain members—and my relatively quiet, small-town life, but I’m not sure that counts as throwing my life away.
    I suppose she’s on my mom’s side, in that she pictured my future with James. I’d be the trophy wife to a handsome, successful business man. She wants me to simulate her life, maybe as some sort of validation of her own choices. It’s not that it would be a bad life. In fact, if I am honest with myself, two or three months ago, that’s exactly the path I was on, and I was okay with it. Until I wasn’t.
    I shake it all away and try to clear my head. I don’t need their approval in order to live my life. If this is a mistake, I’ll find out sooner or later, and then I’ll be the one who has to deal with the fallout, not them.
     

Chapter Three
    Apparently what they say about Los Angeles traffic is true, because it takes us nearly an hour and a half to get from LAX to Brandon’s house, which is less than twenty miles away from the airport. I spend most of the drive looking out the window, familiarizing myself with this city that I will now call home. It’s sunny and clear, and the warmth radiating off the window feels nice on my skin.
    We finally start winding our way up into the Hollywood hills and pull into a gated community. The car comes to a stop in front of a sprawling estate and I practically do a double take. The grounds look well maintained and lush with a variety of plants and perfect grass. My breath catches a little when I realize that this is where I will be living. I’ve never even visited a home like this before, let alone imagined living in one. Valerie’s house is the biggest I’ve ever been to, but this one looks much bigger.
    Keith comes around to open my door and offers me a hand. I take it, needing the support as I get steady on my feet. He leaves my side to go retrieve my luggage and I stagger forward, trying to take it all in.
    “Cherry!”
    I turn and see Brandon crossing the yard. I’m not sure where he came from because the front door never opened. There must be secret trap doors somewhere. I