The gig was up. Calvin had figured out the truth, that I was totally unqualified for this job, and I was almost certain my days were numbered. I’d already made one grievous error; he wouldn’t stand for another.

I was surprised he hadn’t fired me on the spot. But now he felt the need to train me, and after looking at his schedule, I knew he didn’t have the time to spare. He’d carved out an hour for me, well, technically, I’d carved it out by screwing up his meeting, but that still wouldn’t be nearly enough time.

He’d see right away that I was completely incompetent and had no idea what I was doing. He’d decide I wasn’t worth the effort and let me go before he wasted any more time on me. I might as well start looking for another job right then, because I was certain I’d be fired by lunch time the next day.

I wasn’t going down without a fight, though. I would do everything I could to prove to him that I could handle this job. After he left, I stayed for another hour, going over the programs, reviewing his schedule for the next day, and reading every email to make sure I wasn’t missing anything.

I would’ve stayed all evening, but my stomach started protesting too insistently, and my brain felt like mush with all the information I’d crammed into it. My mother had put dinner on the table at 6pm every night for 30 years. If I wanted to eat with my parents, I needed to get there before then. I grabbed Calvin’s suit and headed out, promising myself I’d come back later that evening or maybe extra early the next day.

My stomach sent out a warning siren when I walked into the dry cleaners and saw Mandie Abrams, the girl whose mouth had run non-stop since the moment she was born. With her pale skin, dark bob, bright red lips, and annoying personality, she reminded me a lot of Flo from the Progressive Insurance commercials.

I wanted to turn right around and walk back out, but she’d already seen me. Her face lit up, and she stuck her hands up and waved them like jazz hands. She probably would’ve hugged me if there wasn’t a counter between us. Although, I doubted it would’ve stopped her if she’d really wanted to.

“Layla? Layla Emerson? Is that you? Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle! As I live and breathe, you look exactly the same as you did ten years ago. Just as pretty as ever. I heard you were back in town, and sure enough, here you are!”

I’d only seen two people since I’d been back, and one of them was Calvin who I doubted was out gossiping about me, so I didn’t know how she’d managed to hear about my arrival already, but it didn’t surprise me. You couldn’t even throw a surprise party in Sweet Bay without the guest of honor knowing about it two weeks in advance. This town didn’t believe in keeping secrets.

Mandie leaned over the counter and lowered her voice like she was trying to whisper, but she was still loud enough for half the block to hear her. “I heard you took over for Leanne, working at the resort. Good luck with that. That Calvin made a few bucks, and now he’s trying to lord it over people like some kind of prince. Wouldn’t even let Leanne’s kids swim in that big swimmin’ pool! Said it was for guests only. Like the locals are gonna pollute the water, or something.”

I’d overheard Tessa say something about a miscommunication over childcare, so there might’ve been some truth to the story, but it seemed like there was probably another side to it. Maybe I was just feeling grateful that Calvin had taken a chance on hiring me in the first place and hadn’t fired me on the spot when he found out how incompetent I was, but for whatever reason, I felt a little more sympathy for him than the rest of the town seemed to have.

“I don’t know anything about that, but I need to get this suit cleaned for him.” I laid the suit on the counter, trying to refocus the conversation on the reason I was there. Mandie picked it up and stroked the fine fabric but kept on talking while she filled out the order slip.

“Look at this material. This suit must’ve cost a couple thousand dollars. And he’s too stingy to offer any benefits to his employees? It’s not like it even would have cost him anything to let her bring her kids there during the summer. But he don’t have kids, so what does he know about the struggles of being a parent?”

I opened my mouth to ask her if she had any kids, but then I decided I didn’t care enough to listen to the long conversation that would most definitely follow if I gave her the least bit of encouragement. Instead, I nodded noncommittally and held out my hand for the slip. She waved it around, but never close enough for me to grab it, and answered the question I hadn’t asked.

“Me, I got two girls and a boy, and I’d do anything for them. That’s why I’m workin’ here, trying to earn some extra money to pay for all their extracurricular activities. Just the uniform for Billy’s Little League team costs $200! We tried to find a sponsor who’d pay for the uniforms in exchange for us puttin’ their logo on the back of the jerseys, but no business was willing to fork over that much money for so little exposure. I mean, the boys are small, and the jerseys are so tiny, you’d barely be able to read the words on ‘em.”

She slapped her hands down on the counter, giving me the chance to pull the slip out from under her fingers. I took advantage of her momentary pause for air to make my escape. “Well, it was good to see you, Mandie. Good luck with that Little League stuff.”

I waved the slip at her and dashed out the door before she had a chance to respond. I’d forgotten what it was like to live in a small town where everybody knew everybody else’s business and thought it was their duty to make sure you did, too.

I drove to my parents’ house, my mind instantly switching to a new worry. How would they react to my return? I hadn’t asked them if I could come back; I’d just assumed they wouldn’t mind. That, and I’d been dreading the conversation. Maybe it would’ve been better to do it over the phone. But now, I couldn’t stall it any longer.

The street I grew up on looked different to me, even though nothing much had changed. The impressive, two-story homes were all well-maintained but seemed dated, now. It had been the nicest neighborhood in Sweet Bay when I was a kid, maybe it still was, but it paled in comparison to the mansions all around Hollywood. I’d thought I was such hot stuff when I moved there, but I was a tiny goldfish in a giant aquarium full of exotic fish.

I pulled into my parents’ driveway and parked in the extra spot beside the garage then followed the walk to the deep, brick stairs that led to the wide front door. It felt strange to ring the doorbell, but if I still had a key I didn’t know where it was, and my mother would probably have a heart attack if I walked in unannounced.

I could hear the doorbell gong solemnly through the house, and I peeked in one of the stained glass sidelight windows to see if anyone was coming. I heard my mother’s kitten heels clacking on the tile and her voice calling out, “Henry, are you expecting company?”

I didn’t hear my father’s reply, but my mother yanked open the door and gawked at me. “Layla! What on earth are you doing here, child? And without even calling!”

Her thin arms caged me in a hug, smothering me with the overwhelming floral aroma of Estee Lauder Beautiful perfume and the lingering, chemical scent of hairspray. I couldn’t believe I’d forgotten that smell, but it came right back in a flood of memories.

Mom let go and pulled back, holding me by the shoulders so she could look at me. “It’s so good to see you in person. You look even better than you do on the video calls. I’m glad you’re not showing your age. It makes me feel like I’m still young.”

Clearly, her image was still a high priority. She looked good, as always, if a little outdated, like the house, in pink slacks with an ivory shell under a floral jacket. “You are still young, Mom. Fifty-five is the new 40, isn’t it?”

“Well, I try.” She fluffed her chin length helmet of roller-curled, bleach blonde hair and gave me a sly smile. Flattery worked ridiculously well on my mother. She always believed the compliments, even though she herself gave a lot of fake ones in the name of southern charm.

“Sorry I didn’t call, Mom. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Nonsense. You’re our daughter. You know you’re always welcome. Come on in.” She stepped back then called out to my father, “Henry, Layla’s here!”

My mother led me into the front room that had been used to host visitors for the last 30 years and gestured for me to take a take a seat on the chintz sofa that reminded me of the desktop wallpaper Leanne had put on the computer at the resort. “Would you like a cup of tea or a coffee, dear?”

“Um, no, I’m good. Thanks.” I was a little taken aback by the guest treatment. I expected her to say dinner was almost ready and tell my father to set me a plate. But I didn’t even smell anything cooking.

My dad came in wearing a suit, even though he usually took off his jacket and tie as soon as he got home from the bank. He bent down and gave me a kiss on the forehead then sat in one of the matching, high-back armchairs. “Hello, princess. Good to see you.”

“Hi, Daddy. Are you two going somewhere?”

They glanced at each other, then my mom sat down on the other armchair and gave a genteel smile. “Well, the Society Club meeting is this evening, but we’ll just skip this one since you’re here.”

“Oh, yeah, it is the first Tuesday of the month, isn’t it? You know what, I don’t want to interfere with your plans. You guys go on to your dinner, and we can visit when you get back. I’ll just stay here, if that’s okay.”

Mom glanced at her watch. “Oh, well, how long are you staying, dear? We don’t want to miss any time with you.”

My heart pumped itself up into my throat, making it hard to breathe. “Um, well, actually… I was hoping I could stay for a while. A month, maybe?”

My mother gasped and put her hand to her chest. “Goodness! That’s wonderful dear, but it’s so sudden. Did something happen? Are you all right?”

I grimaced, trying to think of a way to put it so they wouldn’t automatically think that I’d come back as a failure with my tail between my legs, even though it was the truth. Confidence was the key to playing a role, so I sat up straighter and looked them each in the eye. “Everything’s fine. I just realized I needed a break from the big city. I missed Sweet Bay, and you two.”

I’d thought they’d be happy to have me back, but I should’ve known my mother would be disappointed. I wanted to believe it was her motherly instinct to see her child succeed, but I had a feeling it was more like my failure was a reflection on her. She gave a little pout like it was her who’d been rejected, not me. “Honey, you’re not giving up on acting, are you? I mean, look at Julia Roberts. She’s in her 50’s, and she’s still landing great roles. You still have plenty of time.”

Dad reached over and patted Mom’s hand. “Now Cynthia, if Layla is tired of acting, we should be glad she came back home. Maybe she can find a good husband and give us some grandchildren. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

Mom struggled to hide her wince. “Well, most of the other ladies my age do have grandchildren now, but I’m not sure I’m ready to be called Grandmother.” She put her hands on her cheeks like she was afraid the word was going to make wrinkles appear.

A husband and children weren’t even on my radar. I hadn’t met a guy worth getting serious about, and I’d been too busy focusing on my career to think about kids. Did I want to have them someday? Maybe. I suppose it was what people did if they weren’t pursuing stardom. They transferred all their hopes and dreams onto their offspring. Like my mother had.

“I wouldn’t worry about it just yet. I’m not even dating anyone.”

My mother shook her head and tsked. “You always had boys flocking after you. I don’t understand why you haven’t found someone yet.”

“She’s been busy, darling. She’s a career woman. So, what are you going to do while you’re here?” My father gave me that worried look that dads get whenever the subject of money comes up.

I smiled, relieved I had at least one positive thing to tell them. “I actually got a job already. I’m working with the developer of the new Sweet Bay resort.”

My mother’s face twisted up like a girl being chased in a horror movie, and she dug her manicured fingernails into the arms of the chair. “You mean that Montgomery boy?”

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t so positive, in their opinion. “Calvin Montgomery, Mom. He’s a billionaire business mogul. I’m going to be his assistant.”

My mother clutched her pearls then stood up and went to look out the window, peeking around the floral drapes like she was afraid someone was outside listening. “Layla, nothing good ever came from a Montgomery. And that resort? The Society Club has been trying to put a stop to that since we first got wind of it.”

That didn’t surprise me one bit. I bet the bourgeois of this town were having a fit about it. At one point, they tried to have Sweet Bay taken off the map, they were so adamant about protecting the town from outsiders who might want to invade their oasis.

“It’s really nice,” I said lamely. Of course, that would only add to their concern.

“It ought to be. I heard Montgomery is investing over 100 million dollars in it. I hope he’s paying you well,” Dad said.

I nodded. It wasn’t that great of a salary, especially considering how complicated the job had turned out to be, but I definitely wasn’t going to admit that. I was just happy to have a job.

My mother sat back down in the chair with a calculated look on her face. “Does anyone else know you’re back in town and working at that resort?”

“A few people.”

My mother tapped a finger to her pursed lips. She knew as well as anybody that, in Sweet Bay, if a few people knew then everybody knew. “Hmm. Go freshen up, dear. You’re going with us to the Club meeting.”

“What? No! I’m not even a member.” A dozen of the most prestigious residents of Sweet Bay, scrutinizing me and speculating about why I was back in Sweet Bay? No thank you. I’d rather have my toenails pulled out.

Mother stood up and pulled me to my feet. “It doesn’t matter; everyone will be happy to see you after so long. And it’s the only way to keep you from becoming the main topic of conversation. If you’re there, they won’t say anything bad about you, and you’ll get a chance to remind them how lovely you are before they start dragging your name through the mud.”

I cringed and opened my mouth to argue, but I had no rebuttal. She was right, of course. If I went, at least I could give them my explanation for why I was back before they had a chance to make up their own reasons. I sighed and nodded.

My mother pointed the way to the powder room in case I had forgotten. I took my purse and went to the bathroom to touch up my makeup. I wished I had a product that would make my skin thick enough to shield me from the darts that were about to be aimed at me.