by Jean Oram
Once she had them on shore, she pushed her boat off from the dock, letting it be towed away.
“I am so sorry, Hailey.” Jenni came forward, looking immaculate in a well-fitted dress. “We’ll pay to get it fixed.”
Her son held up a purple shell, white on the inside. “Look what we found.”
Hailey nodded to the boy, and said to Jenni, “No, I’m sorry. The boat’s old and I doubt it was anything you did. I’m sorry you had to deal with it.”
The women watched each other for a moment, then Jenni said, “You have a real gem there. So much space. I want to run home and write a story about this. And I love how your antique wicker matched. What a find.”
“It’s original.”
Her husband began herding his wife toward the rental car where he’d already stowed the luggage he’d hauled from the dock to the car. “Time to go, Jenni.”
“Oh, let’s stop for coffee on the way,” she said, hurrying to catch up. She turned back to wave at Hailey as she gathered her daughters and son. “Thanks again!”
“Hope you had fun!” Hailey waved back, turning as someone behind her called, “Hailey! You’re here!”
She froze as her sisters and niece came down the slope to the docks, picnic baskets in hand. Her eyes cut to the retreating family.
“We figured since the fumigation was done we could have our much-delayed Canada Day picnic on Nymph Island.” Daphne waved a basket.
“Fumigation?” Jenni gasped as she hurried by with a forgotten bag.
Hailey turned. “No, it’s okay. My sister is talking about somewhere else.”
“What?” Daphne stopped a few feet away, her cotton dress flapping in the breeze, as she stared at the family climbing into the packed car.
“Never mind. I’ll explain later,” Hailey said.
“Where’s the boat?” Melanie looked from the family to Hailey and back again.
“Can you give me a minute?” Hailey sucked a breath through her nose, dug her fingers into her hips, wishing she could run away.
Mr. Walker hurried up and handed her a check. “I can’t believe I forgot to pay you! Our mailing address is on the check--please send us the bill for the boat if we broke it.” He patted Hailey’s hand before she could brush away the offer. “Although, since my wife doesn’t fly, we’ll be taking a cruise back to the U.K. If you don’t hear from us immediately, it’s because we’re lost at sea.”
“Okay. Thank you.” Hailey folded the check and tucked it into the pocket of her shorts. She turned back to her sisters, who were standing agape.
Wordlessly, Hailey pointed to a nearby maple and her sisters and niece joined her under its spreading branches. Their attention flicked between the packing family and Hailey.
“I rented out the cottage. That family was there for the past few days.”
Hailey’s three sisters all focused on her, their blue eyes wide.
“Is that why we couldn’t go out there?” Daphne asked, waving Tigger to come back from the water.
“You rented it without asking us? I thought we were in this together,” Maya said, crossing her arms.
“It’s in trust in my name,” Hailey replied.
“For all of us, Hailey. I think renting it out is a group decision,” Daphne said.
“Do we still get to have our picnic?” Tigger asked, swishing the skirt of her yellow dress.
“Yes!” Daphne replied.
“No,” Hailey said.
“Did you rent it out again?” Maya asked. “I hope you’re charging enough. You know…” She tapped her chin in thought. “This might be a good plan. We could fix up a few things with the income.”
“No, I haven’t rented it out,” Hailey said, before Maya got too far off into her business world. “And the boat crapped out on them. Duke’s guy just took it away to replace the prop--sounds like it fell off. So…we’re not going out to the island.”
“What?” Daphne stared at the empty boat slip as though it would tell her the full story.
“Did you get additional insurance before renting?” Melanie asked. “I don’t think our regular home owners’ policy covers this.”
“The insurance was canceled years ago,” Hailey replied quietly, “and I’m pretty sure the prop fell off because the boat is old, not because of anything they did.”
“Why was the insurance canceled?” Melanie asked.
“It wouldn’t cover the cottage’s old wiring without a major increase in our premiums.”
“Did you shop around? You know there are some places--”
“Maya, not now, okay? I made the decision years ago. We couldn’t afford it, trust me.”
“Why didn’t you talk to us, though?”
“You were in school. And it was outrageously expensive, Maya. It was the same year our taxes went up by almost 30 percent.”
“What?” They all stared at Hailey.
“But you haven’t charged us that much more for our portion of the taxes,” Melanie said slowly.
“Why did you rent the cottage out?” Daphne asked, her attention focused, again, on the empty slip.
“We need the money.”
“I thought everything was fine,” Maya said. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“Well, it isn’t fine, and it hasn’t been for a really long time,” Hailey snapped. The last thing she needed was her sisters telling her how she should have done things.
“Whoa!” Daphne stepped between Hailey and Maya. “You love each other. Peace and harmony.”
“Shut up, Daphne,” Maya said, sharing a look with Hailey.
“So, why do we need the money?” Melanie asked.
“Because if we don’t pay years of back taxes the island will be seized for a tax sale on August 30.”
The sisters gasped, sharing looks of disbelief.
“I’m sorry.” Hailey let out a sigh, her shoulders drooping. “Mom didn’t want you to know that we were behind on our taxes when she passed the deed over to me, and I thought I could cover it, but I--I couldn’t. She wanted you to be able to live your lives without the burden of this money pit changing the course of your destiny. She wanted you to follow your dreams and not be held back by the cottage. She didn’t want it to own you.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Maya asked. Hailey lowered her gaze and her sister threw her hands in the air. “Did you ever consider asking if we could help?”
“I’m sorry.” Hailey looked up. She thought of the paychecks that would be coming in because of Finian. But even they wouldn’t be enough. She couldn’t pull it together in time. The cottage was going to have to go up for sale. “I’m sorry I let you down.”
Daphne, tears in her eyes, pulled her into a hug. “I’m sure you did your best.”
When the two finally parted, Maya was sitting by the shore, hugging her knees to her chest.
“What did you do with our money?” Daphne asked.
“I paid the taxes, but we started out behind, and just kept falling further and further back no matter what I tried.”
Tears streaked down Daphne’s face and Melanie gave her a hug. Daphne said, her voice wobbling, “I guess we’d better find a way to say goodbye to Trixie Hollow.”
Hailey sniffed back the tears and drove around her house twice before giving up on the paparazzi milling about in front of her house, and driving right up onto the lawn and into her backyard, as she had with Finian. Her car left pale tracks across the grass, she noted, as she dragged her tired body to her house.
All she wanted to do was sleep, but she had the opening for her show tonight. She stared at herself in the mirror of her en suite bathroom. She didn’t know who she’d become. She’d kept secrets from her family, had lied to her sisters for years, then betrayed the man she’d taken to bed, and broken her promises.
Who had she become in her quest to be an artist?
Sighing, she checked her phone as she poured herself a glass of white wine. No text from Finian. Did that mean his ex was back in hi
s bed? That the website had already posted her photos that betrayed Finian’s wishes, and he was done with her? Or was he blindly getting ready to come to her opening, happy at how she’d taken his new image into her hands?
She slipped into a black wrap dress that barely grazed her knees, and pulled on her nicest sling backs. Pretty good for a local artist. She smoothed her hair into a French twist, spritzing it with hair spray, trying not to think about Finian. She swallowed against the lump of need in her throat, and braced herself against the vanity. Why hadn’t she listened to him? Why had she sold those photos?
The need to be wanted, desired, kept and protected ate at her. She’d thrown any chance she’d had away. To be understood. To be loved, however fleetingly.
Hailey smoothed the last strands of hair and mentally moved through her show, thinking of the things she would say to potential buyers. Her mind stilled, picking up the threads of the story Finian had created. It almost felt as though he’d recreated Beauty and the Beast. How could that be? A young woman in love. Forced to make a choice. But how had he done that with her nature photos?
Was she projecting her desires?
It’s a story, Hailey. A love story.
Her mind raced through the images. Deer. Beautiful and ugly. Destroyed forests. Blooming flowers. Ladybugs after the long winter. And in the end, on the top floor, the beast turned into a beautiful prince.
Finian.
The man she hardly dared believe existed…was real.
She stared at herself in the mirror. How could she make Finian and her sisters understand that everything she’d done was for them? It was for them. Her art was her chance to change the world. Their world.
Finn nudged a photographer away from Jessica and ushered her into the restaurant he’d been in less than twenty-four hours ago with Hailey. It felt like a week. His phone buzzed with a text and he ignored it. He’d had so many unsolicited calls and texts in the past four hours he was going to have to change his number again.
How had Jessica unleashed the hounds so fast? Did the paparazzi all have private jets, so they could be here in an instant? Sea planes that could land outside his little cottage? Actually, if they were anything like that schmuck Austin, then yeah, they probably did. Finn also guessed that Jessica was likely in cahoots with at least half of them, which would explain why their “back together again” stories had spread so fast and why his little corner of Muskoka was crawling with paparazzi.
This had to be some big cook-up between Jessica and their shared agent. Finn could smell it wafting over him, cloying like the smell of garlic and butter in this place. How had he ever let them gain control of his life? His reputation? His world?
Oh yes, because he needed the money and fame.
Last night’s waitress greeted them with a smile. “Finian Alexander, you bad boy. Someone new and beautiful every night.” She cast an assessing look at Jessica who gave her a smile that would befit a corpse, it was so cold and lifeless.
The waitress sashayed to the same table he’d shared with Hailey.
“I’ve been saving it for you,” she said, leaning close so Finn could ogle her cleavage while he seated himself. He made a point of looking away, of letting her know he wasn’t interested. The large window to his right overlooked the sun setting on water. Beautiful.
Unfortunately, the view was instantly blocked by a flock of buzzing paparazzi. Finn lurched back in his seat, afraid the way they were banging against the glass as they jockeyed for the best position would break the window, showering him in shards.
“Scotch on the rocks, like last night?” the waitress purred. She flicked her eyes at Jessica.
“Both of us,” she answered.
The waitress turned her attention to Finn, her head cocked as if to say, You okay with her speaking for you?
“Yeah, sure. Whatever.” Why bother wasting energy fighting over a stupid drink? They didn’t care who he really was or what he really wanted.
The waitress sashayed back to the bar.
“You seem upset,” Jessica said, smoothing a linen napkin over her lap. She held her back straight, the epitome of elegance with her sleek build and well-threaded outfit. Yes, she was what everyone wanted to look at across the table.
Except for Finn.
He laughed as he remembered how only a few days ago he’d thought not being attracted to Jessica had meant there was something wrong with him.
He flicked his napkin out with a snap and laid it across his lap, ignoring her. He briefly closed his eyes, willing his face to be void of any emotion. The past few days with Hailey had been like another life. A life he’d enjoyed immensely.
And he’d probably ruined any chance of keeping it by choosing a career that would make him money, but could never resemble anything close to reality. How did you mesh the fake life with a real one? A real woman?
The timing was all wrong.
“My, my. You got used to not having this.” Jessica tipped an eyebrow toward the crowded window.
“Why are you here?”
“In case you haven’t noticed, you’re floundering. You’ve hit the ‘just about made it’ wall that holds so many back from becoming A-list. I’m here to help you through to the other side. To drive it home.” She flicked a smile at the window and rested a hand over his, where it rested by his cutlery. “And to mend your poor broken heart.” She flashed him a smile that had, once upon a time, turned him on.
Fighting the urge to whip his hand out from under hers, he leaned forward, smiled as if he cared, and said, “Dream on, Jessica.”
He pulled his hand back as he grabbed his phone. He pretended to show her a few photos, as if bringing her up-to-date on his little vacation, buying for time as the flashes went off on the other side of the window. No more of this touchy-feely crap. They’d come here to talk business, not give the media a story. He’d been so out of it after Hailey had left that he hadn’t even thought about paparazzi as Jessica hauled him away from his parents.
All he was thinking was that the sooner he heard Jessica out, the sooner she’d leave him alone. The problem was, his ex had a point. With Hailey he’d come much too close to giving in to the urge to be some amazing male version of Angelina Jolie--that woman had a good PR person.
Jessica knew what he needed. Hailey knew what he wanted. And those were two very different things.
Jessica’s eyes assessed him like the businesswoman she was. Monetizing him. And while he thought this should bring him relief, in fact, right now it made him want to punch the air and fight her ideas to the death. When Hailey had looked at him, even when she was behind her camera, he’d felt safe, understood, seen.
But this wasn’t about who he was. It was about money. Fame.
Nothing real.
Nothing like Hailey.
The waitress placed their drinks on the table. “Tonight we have a really lovely--”
“That’s fine, thank you.” Jessica waved her away.
Finn fought the urge to apologize to the server, who looked hurt. Canada was getting to him.
“Do you have it in you to make the A-list push?”
Finn gave a slight nod, leaning back to sip his awful drink. “Not just a visit, Jessica, but a long-term stay.”
“You’ve had a taste of the good and bad now, and maybe you want to change your mind?”
“You know what I want.”
The waitress, who was walking by with a tray of drinks, met his eye, and he gave her a wink. She just about dumped its contents on him as she wobbled. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, blushing like crazy as she carried on.
His game was still on, but all he could think of was the hurt look in Hailey’s eyes when she’d left him at his cottage hours ago. He checked his phone for a text from her and got tired of wading through the incessant stream of texts from people he’d never get around to blocking. Definitely time to ditch the number.
“Do you have a burn phone?” he asked Jessica. He waved his hand. “Never mind. You’re
probably the one who gave out this number, anyway.”
“You were ignoring my calls.”
Carefully, he unclenched his hand from around the glass of scotch.
“So?” Jessica asked. “What do you want? Other than to have that waitress come by and rape you with her eyes again.”
“Jessica...”
“She was undressing you. Why do you think she came undone? You’re such a bad boy.” Jessica’s voice had turned to a low, promiscuous growl full of promise that would make most men run to the washroom in search of condoms. “So, what do you want?” She waggled her eyebrows suggestively.
Finn angled a shoulder to block the sight of the cameras to his right. “I want to be like Julia Roberts.”
Jessica tossed her head back, her perfect hair bouncing as she let out a loud trill of laughter, her fingers lightly touching her throat. She leaned forward, the smile still on her face. “Hon,” she said, her voice serious, “I hate to break it to you, but you’re no Julia Roberts. That girl put in her time. She stayed focused on her goal and worked her fingers off while protecting her girl-next-door image. That woman knew who she was at all times--cute and fun with a giant laugh. Easy to love. Whereas you are a bad boy. One who is suddenly a Boy Scout with a degree in art who saves turtles that are uglier than Christopher Walken.”
“It’s not a degree.” Finn forced himself to lay his hands flat on the table. “It’s a minor in film studies.”
“You’re not big enough, Finn. Not solid enough to be yourself. Or for that matter, to shun big stars from being in your life. There’s no room for a real life.”
“Julia married the grip, had a family, lives a quiet life. Her life is real and she’s A-list. That’s what I’m talking about.”
“You are not marrying the grip.” Jessica grabbed his hand, her nails digging into his skin. “You haven’t put in the time. Your audience isn’t going to follow this sudden move. This is a departure from who you’ve been, and they’re going to be confused. It would be like Coca-Cola suddenly going on an antisugar campaign.”