Sunday morning. Valentine's day. My last day in Asheville before I needed to head back home and to work. Contentment washed over me as I slipped from Violetta's embrace on the bed. It was still early; the sun just started to rise over the tops of the mountains in a beautiful orange blaze.

Barefoot, I took my tablet outside and curled up in the same chair from the night before. I stared at the screen, all of my notes on Vi color-coded in a way that only I could understand. That was the way I liked it. Spencer had no issues with the way I did my work as long as I kept to my deadlines.

I tapped the screen with the stylus I used to write and added one last thing: the best reason I've ever had to take a vacation.

There. Done. All of my notes were ready to be input into the text of an article that would be certain to gain attention and traction from not only our magazine but maybe other news sources as well.

Birds chirped in the trees around me, filling me with a new confidence. There was a way to write this article that would not only please Spencer but also Violetta. I hoped if I went through with this, she'd see it the same way I did.

A notification popped up on my screen, blinking me out of my thoughts.

Remember this? the screen asked, showing me one of the photos synced from my phone from the night before.

I grinned, scrolling through the photos we'd taken when messing around last night. Lots of us posing cheek to cheek, several candids I'd taken of Violetta laughing and twirling around while singing loudly. I swiped again, and the sounds of our impromptu karaoke filled the screen as a video played.

"If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends," Violetta sang off-key, to the tune of 'Wannabe' by the Spice Girls, whipping her head around and swinging her hips.

I laughed, the image shaking as I recorded the moment. There was no alcohol needed to see her let loose like this.

She pointed at me, urging me to join in. "Come on, Rea! This one's a classic."

Off-screen I groaned before joining in. "Make it last forever, friendship never ends!"

It was a satisfying moment for us together, this time in the comfort of the hotel room without the threat of paparazzi coming to ruin the fun. It had almost been as good of a night as the one before.

In the video, Violetta's auburn hair was pulled back from her face. Tiny wisps escaped from the braid on the back of her head. I smiled, remembering how we took turns last night styling each other's hair.

My hands flew to my own head. The plait of the braid, although loose, was still there. Twisting and weaving, Violetta had worked magic with her fingers slipping easily through my hair to create a perfect French braid.

I kept the braid in as I got dressed, writing out a quick note to let Violetta know I was just slipping out to get some breakfast before we started our last day together.

Unfortunately, the minute I stepped out of the hotel, it wasn't a flash of sunlight that greeted me.

"Hey look!" a voice called out as blinding light assaulted my eyeballs. "That's Violetta's mystery lover!"

Mystery lover?

On instinct, I threw an arm up to shield my face both from being captured on camera and to keep at least a little of my sight. Colored dots danced in my vision. Is this what Vi dealt with on a daily basis? How the hell did she manage it?

"Hey you!" the same voice yelled after me. "We wanna ask some questions!"

"We have no comment!" a new voice, this one familiar, boomed. "Y'all know your place. Now scat!"

Baxter adjusted his suit with a huff. "Those nasty paparazzi never know when to quit, do they?"

I eyed him carefully. The last time I saw him, Violetta had been yelling and threatening his job. Still, he'd just saved me.

"Thank you, Baxter," I said.

He dipped his head in my direction. "The least I can do. Now, if you hurry away, you can get where you need to before the paparazzi show up again. Is Violetta up in the room?"

I hesitated, unsure if I should tell him the truth. "All due respect, Baxter, the woman needs a break." From you, I wanted to add.

Baxter chuckled. "I appreciate your concern for my client, Reagan. In all honesty, I'm pleased that I ran into you this morning. Your record is quite impressive, if I do say so myself."

I stayed quiet, waiting for the catch.

"So impressive, in fact," he continued, "that one might question your motives with Violetta."

My eyes widened then narrowed as I pursed my lips, trying to figure out what to say to him. "I'm just a girl on vacation who happened to befriend a celebrity."

"Except it wasn't just happenstance, was it?" He paused a beat, likely to judge my reaction. "No, I'm afraid it goes a little more beyond that."

"I-I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sure you do. 'The story that will make you the next best thing in all things journalism'. Right?"

My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach. "H-how did...how did you know that? Did you bug my phone or something?"

"It's a publicist's job to stay on top of things like this. I have my contacts," he replied.

I crossed my arms over my chest. "So you saving me from the paparazzi right now. That wasn't you being nice, that was you keeping me reeled in?"

"I'm doing what I have to for our girl to be safe. This vacation was supposed to be a chance for her to get her mind off romance. She wasn't supposed to meet you." He said it with such disgust in his voice that my heart sank.

"It's not my fault," I argued, planting my hands on my hips. "I can't control who I fall in love with just because it goes against your 'schedule' for Vi."

Car horns beeped around us.

I blinked. Had I just...I really needed to be more careful with my words. I knew in this business one false slip of the tongue could mean the difference between being an icon and being frowned upon.

Baxter cleared his throat. "You...well I guess this has happened more rapidly than we expected." He took out a device from his pocket and his fingers flew over the screen. "We've dealt with rumors in the past, some even claiming of her cheating on Jessup. None were true, of course. I suggested this R&R trip for her to get her mind off of all of the stress. Clearly, that was my mistake."

"Wh-what are you saying, Baxter?" I asked. My throat constricted.

"I'm saying maybe work is a better distraction than the simplicity of Asheville." He glanced up from his device. "I think it's time for her to start her next project. Away from here."

Away from you, the unspoken words hung in the air between us.

"No!" I shrieked. A few people walking out of the hotel jumped at the sound of my voice. "No," I said quieter. "Please. Let me...let us have this last day together. I have to be gone tomorrow anyway. And then you never have to worry about me again."

Baxter pursed his lips. "I guess it wouldn't be fair to cut her vacation short when today was going to be the last day anyway. Fine. I will give you eight hours. She has to leave then."

I glanced at the time on my phone screen. It was eight-thirty. "Give us until five tonight. Please."

"Fine. At five, Violetta is gone."

Baxter's bitter words stayed with me while I managed to bring breakfast back to the room for myself and Violetta. My mind was so far from the hotel that it took me a moment to register that Vi was talking to me when I walked back into the room.

"Reagan." She snapped her fingers in front of my face.

I blinked to attention. "Hey, hi, yeah. I brought us back some food." I set it on the table as she continued to towel dry her hair, ignoring the heat that spread to my cheeks.

"Let me just throw something on real quick." Violetta disappeared for another minute while I set up our coffee and bagels. In addition to the order, the bagel shop down the road had thrown in a few Valentine's pastries free of charge after recognizing me as the "girl from the article with that one actress."

And they say language is wasted on the youth.

Violetta returned, wearing a lavender sweater and a pair of jeans. Her hair tumbled over her shoulders, and she smiled at me. "Thanks for breakfast, I owe you one."

I shrugged. "You ordered room service for us yesterday, this was the least I could do."

"You kept the braid in." Violetta reached back to tug at the end. "It looks cute on you."

"Thanks." I bit my lip as heat flooded to my cheeks. As I looked at Violetta, bare-faced and glowing from the shower, my heart pounded hard in my chest. Just the feel of her hand along my hair made me want more, a desire that started to push its way to the surface but like an iceberg stayed hidden.

"So, what do you want to do today?" she asked, changing the subject and adding cream cheese to her bagel. "Your hair looks great, by the way. You should braid it more often."

I was pleased with the subject change, but the flutter in my heart reminded me that we only had a short time left together before she would have to leave.

Before we both had to leave.

"If you think our pottery would be ready, maybe we could go back and paint it?" I suggested.

"Glaze," she corrected me. "Yes, I think that would be a lovely way to end our trip."

Our trip. Panic struck my chest.

"Rea, are you alright?" Violetta frowned at me. "You've been squirrely since you got back with breakfast. Did something happen?"

I shook my head and forced out a smile. There was no sense worrying her. "No, everything is fine."

We ate the rest of our breakfast in silence. Violetta could tell something was off, I knew it. Every few minutes, she took in a breath as if she were going to say something but then decided against it, covering the sound with a cough or clearing her throat.

When the food was gone and the room sufficiently cleaned, we left the hotel for the ceramic studio. For a Sunday, the sidewalks were surprisingly busy.

But then again, it was Valentine's day.

I gulped, staring at the couples who roamed along the streets. The ones who sat on benches kissing or just enjoying each other's company. The ones who jogged together.

Which of those couples would we be?

Violetta squeezed my hand, and I jumped. "It's the PDA, right?" she asked. "When you're not the one in the relationship, it feels so weird to witness. And you know for once I'm actually glad I'm not in the spotlight."

"How did you handle it?" I asked. "The spotlight, that is. When you were dating Jess. How do you...how do you keep yourself so level-headed?"

She let out a laugh as we continued down the path to the studio. "Years of practice. Don't worry, for you and me, I'll go after anyone who tries to hurt you."

I stared down at the sidewalk, letting my hand drop from hers. "I-I don't...um, sorry. I just, after yesterday, I'm still trying to figure this all out. Us."

Us. The words rolled over my tongue like the sweetness of a mango. It was something maybe I could get used to. Maybe. If only I didn't have Baxter's words hanging over my head.

"It's okay, Reagan." Violetta brushed her fingers over my cheek. "I meant what I said last night. This doesn't have to be anything we label. For once I think I'd actually enjoy that. We can just be having fun."

"Thank you. I think if we give it time, we can make this work," I said.

I want to make this work, I thought to myself. Dear god, please let this work out for us.