V

Summer Preston

Hosting Thanksgiving for two hundred people is far more challenging than I anticipated. Instead of holding the dinner at my main residence—where I spend most of my time—I decided to use my rarely-visited mansion. Its size is perfect for accommodating everyone comfortably.

My team of chefs has been cooking tirelessly for the past 24 hours, preparing a lavish spread that caters to everyone's needs. The menu includes gluten-free and lactose-free options, a variety of desserts, and an impressive selection of drinks—chilled in the refrigerator and displayed in champagne buckets along the tables. To ensure the space looked its best, I brought in decorators to refine the entire downstairs area where the festivities would take place.

The guests were invited to arrive at 5:30 PM, leaving me a little time to prepare. In my room, I slipped into a strapless black dress that hugged me perfectly, paired with black stockings and red Christian Louboutin stilettos. I completed the look with straightened hair, smoky eye makeup, brown lip liner, and clear lip gloss. After adding my Van Cleef stud earrings and a matching watch, I sprayed on Baccarat Rouge and made my way downstairs.

By 6:00 PM, guests had started to arrive, and light chatter filled the mansion. I greeted everyone warmly but found Nolan and Adrianna already in the kitchen, sneaking food.

"Stay out of the food!" I scolded, swatting their hands away.

"We're starving! I haven't eaten all day!" Nolan whined.

"It's Thanksgiving! You're supposed to starve until dinner—everyone knows that," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Can we at least have some macaroni and cheese—" Adrianna began.

"No! You'll eat at 6:30 like everyone else," I said firmly before walking away to greet more guests.

Somehow, Nolan and Adrianna found themselves in an intense game of Uno with the kids, even turning it into a gambling match at $15 a round. By the time dinner began, they had lost about $75.

When everyone took their seats—spanning the dining room, kitchen, and living room—I stood up to address them.

"I'm so grateful to have you all here to celebrate Thanksgiving with me. Your dedication to the movie has been unforgettable, and I hope you all enjoy the evening. Happy Thanksgiving!"

The room echoed with warm wishes before the feast began. My chefs served each guest individually, sparing everyone the chaos of passing trays around.

I sat at the head of the table, Nolan to my left and Adrianna to my right. The conversation turned personal as Nolan asked, "How do you feel after seeing lover girl yesterday?"

I sighed, taking a long sip of wine. "I still don't even know why she was there."

"Maybe she came back to confess her love for you," Adrianna teased.

"It's too late for that. It's been four years," I muttered.

"Surprised the paparazzi haven't caught on," Nolan added.

Adrianna smirked. "Maybe her modeling career didn't take off the way she hoped."

We all chuckled before I excused myself to grab another bottle of wine. On my way back, the doorbell rang. Opening it, I found August and her girlfriend, Spencer.

"Hi, August! No worries about being late; dinner just started. Head to the kitchen, and the chefs will show you your seats," I said warmly.

Spencer lingered briefly. "I apologize for yesterday. It was a stressful day, but I'd like for us to start fresh." I said.

"Of course, I understand the stress. No hard feelings." She replied, offering a small smile.

Before I could close the door, it opened wider, revealing Solené.

"What are you doing here?" I hissed.

"I came with August and Spencer. Spencer's my best friend," she said, her eyes scanning my outfit with a deliberate slowness. I allowed myself to do the same, against my better judgment.

Her black skirt, with a daring slit that revealed just enough to be infuriating, was paired with sheer stockings and sleek, knee-high boots. The fitted black sweater beneath her tailored wool trench coat hugged her frame perfectly, the structured cut of the coat emphasizing her tall, elegant silhouette. Her hands, adorned with silver rings that gleamed in the soft light, rested casually at her sides, exuding an infuriating confidence.

But it was her hair that truly caught my attention. Soft curls framed her face, cascading over her shoulders in effortless waves that were almost too perfect to be natural. A few strands danced with every subtle movement she made, the warm tones catching the light just enough to make her look like she belonged in a magazine spread.

"Are you done staring?" she asked, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

My cheeks heated instantly, but I quickly recovered, tilting my head with an unimpressed expression. "Yes, I am. I don't want you here. I don't want to see you."

"Summer, I just want to explain. I didn't know you were directing August's movie. I was only there to drop off food for Spencer."

I sighed deeply, fighting my emotions. "You can stay—for Thanksgiving. Don't mistake it for anything else."

"Thank you—"

"Shut up," I said, walking away.

I grabbed a bottle of tequila, returning to the table. Nolan raised an eyebrow. "Tequila instead of wine? I'm not complaining, but what happened?"

As I prepared to answer, Solené entered the room.

Adrianna's eyes widened. "Oh, I'm guessing she's what happened."

"Yeah," I muttered. "She is."

I took another long sip of tequila, feeling the burn warm my chest. Solené's presence at my Thanksgiving dinner was as unexpected as it was infuriating. The room felt smaller, and my usually unshakable composure wavered under her steady gaze.

"Are you okay?" Nolan whispered, leaning closer. Adrianna raised an eyebrow, silently pressing for details.

I set my glass down with a thud. "No, but I'll deal with it later."

Solené, of course, had the audacity to join a group of my colleagues in the living room, charming them with her easy laugh and sharp wit. I couldn't help but glance her way every few minutes, the sight of her unsettling in ways I didn't want to admit.

"Just talk to her," Adrianna suggested, following my line of sight.

"No," I snapped, shaking my head. "She doesn't deserve my time or my energy."

But my resolve didn't last long. After dinner had been served and conversations mellowed into smaller, quieter groups, I found myself near the fireplace, alone for the first time all evening. The crackling flames reflected in my wine glass, the steady hum of voices a faint backdrop to my swirling thoughts.

"Nice party," Solené's voice broke the silence. I didn't need to look up to know she was standing a few feet away, her presence magnetic and maddening.

"What do you want, Solené?" I said coolly, keeping my eyes fixed on the fire.

"To talk," she said, her voice softer now. "About us."

I laughed bitterly, finally turning to face her. "Us? There hasn't been an 'us' for years. You made sure of that."

Her expression faltered, but she didn't back down. "I know I hurt you, Summer. I know I left without an explanation, and you have every right to hate me."

"You're right, I do," I snapped, standing to my full height. The space between us felt charged, like a tightly coiled spring ready to snap.

"I was scared," she admitted, her voice breaking slightly. "Of everything. Of what we were becoming, of how fast it was all happening. And I thought taking the job and leaving was the right thing to do."

"And now you're back," I said, my tone sharp. "For what? To apologize? To make me forgive you so you can feel better about yourself?"

"No," she said quickly. "I'm not asking for forgiveness. I just wanted you to know the truth. And..." She hesitated, her gaze dropping for the first time. "And to see you again. I missed you, Summer."

Her words hung in the air between us, and for a moment, I was speechless. All the years of anger and hurt threatened to boil over, but underneath it, something else stirred—something I wasn't ready to confront.

"I don't have time for this," I said, brushing past her.

But as I moved, she caught my wrist, her grip firm but not forceful. "Please, just—"

"Let go," I said, my voice low and dangerous. She released me immediately, her hand falling back to her side.

I walked away, feeling her eyes on me the entire time.

Back at the table, Nolan and Adrianna were watching me like hawks. "You okay?" Nolan asked, concern softening his tone.

"No," I said honestly, pouring myself another drink. "But I will be."

Adrianna leaned closer. "Do you want me to kick her out? I've been dying for some drama tonight."

I couldn't help but laugh, shaking my head. "No. Let her stay. It's Thanksgiving, after all."

But deep down, I knew this wasn't over. Not by a long shot.