Beautiful Mine

by Jordyn White

  Right?

  I get a text from Lizzy. I know she’s in for the day because her office door is open, but she must be busy elsewhere because I haven’t actually seen her yet.

  Lizzy: Where are you?

  See what I mean?

  Me: In my office.

  Lizzy: I need to talk to you about the Zurwicky wedding. Can we chat in 20?

  Me: I’ll be here.

  I turn back to my computer and try to focus on the email I’m drafting. I feel like I’m crawling out of my skin. I take a few deep breaths, and it helps a little. I haven’t felt this unsettled in a long time.

  Maybe I’m struggling so much today because we took the boat out. Maybe I shouldn’t have. But I wasn’t going to tell Whitney no.

  Speaking of, my phone dings and it’s a text from her.

  I smile instantly.

  Whitney: I miss you already.

  Me: Me too. Four more days.

  Whitney: I can’t wait. We get to see each other on purpose!

  I laugh. I think about sending her a text back, but impulsively hit “Call” instead and get up to shut the door so we can talk privately.

  “Hi,” she answers. I hear the smile on her face.

  I sink back into my chair and lean back, smiling too. “Hey. I wanted to hear your voice.”

  And maybe that really is all I’ve needed, because as we begin to talk, whatever’s been restless inside of me settles in deep, and grows still.

  Chapter 22

  Connor

  The next few weeks are filled with texting and phone calls and not enough time seeing one another. I did spend the weekend with her in San Francisco, where I got to meet her boss and coworkers, see her small but homey condo, and go to her favorite places (this girl is in love with Philly cheesesteak). Last weekend, I flew her down. I took her on the zip line, which she loved, and we had dinner with my family. Corrine’s out of school now, so she was there too. They all love Whitney.

  I think I love her too.

  In fact, I’m pretty damn fucking sure I am crazy in love with that woman.

  The best part, as Whitney says, is that now our goodbyes are temporary.

  The worst part is I still can’t seem to officially commit to staying. Even though my family sees what’s happening with Whitney and think I ought to have some sort of answer, when they ask if I’ve made a decision, the words that come out of my mouth are still, “I don’t know.”

  They’re frustrated with me.

  I’m frustrated with me.

  Even though I’ve made the decision in my head, and even though I’ve told Whitney I’m staying, when it comes time to tell my siblings and make it official, I can’t spit the words out.

  It’s made my relationship with Rayce even more fun. He’s been in rare form the last few days. The fact that Rita Becker recently ran a column accusing him of having illicit affairs with multiple lower-level staff members didn’t help matters. She had neither names nor photos to back up her claims. It’s just more trash, clearly, but it pissed Rayce off anyway. Put all that together, and that means I’m still his favorite target.

  Corrine and I have joked around that I need to keep a tranquilizer gun in my desk so I’ll be prepared the next time he comes barging into my office on the warpath.

  I’m currently wrapping up a meeting with Lizzy and two of our managers. We’ve been discussing a couple upcoming, high-profile weddings that will be taking advantage of the full offerings here at the resort, and have things more or less under control. As we all clear out of the Event Planning Conference room, though, our Events Manager, Renee, asks if she can speak with me privately.

  Lizzy gives me a questioning look—she’s Renee’s immediate supervisor, not me—but I don’t know what this is about either. As I shut the door and sit back down at the table, Renee starts fidgeting with the file folders in front of her. My curiosity is piqued even more. “What’s up?”

  “There’s something I wanted to bring to your attention.” She takes a deep breath.

  “All right.”

  “It’s... maybe not my business, but...” She stops again, furrowing her brows. “Did you see the article about Mr. Rivers? About the, um, affairs?”

  Oh, is that all this is about?

  “Just gossip,” I say. “If Rita Becker doesn’t have anything good to report, she’ll just make stuff up.”

  She nods slowly, still hesitant. “Well... I don’t know. I... saw something I thought you should be aware of.”

  The skin on the back of my neck starts to crawl. “All right,” I say steadily.

  “The other day I saw Mr. Rivers and one of my employees coming out of the Redwood Room. It wasn’t being used or scheduled for anything, so there was no reason for her to be in there. They...” she hesitates and my skin is crawling everywhere. “They kind of gave each other a look and she was straightening her skirt and they left in different directions.”

  “What kind of look?” I ask, even though I don’t want to know.

  “Well... I don’t know. I’m not accusing anybody of anything. I don’t know why they were in there.”

  “I understand.”

  “It just... seemed off. They did look at each other like... like maybe something was going on in there.”

  I take a deep breath and sit back in my chair. “I see.”

  “I’m not saying anything happened. I just... I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about it and then I saw that article in the Voice and I thought you should know.”

  “Who was the employee?”

  “Her name is Taylor Norell. She mainly does set up and such.”

  “Did you ask her about it?”

  “No. I didn’t know if I should.”

  I take another deep breath. “All right. Thank you for telling me. Is there anything else I need to know?”

  She hesitates.

  God. What else?

  “Well...” she begins. “You should know I overheard a couple people in the break room speculating about this. I didn’t believe it and put an end to things pretty quickly. I have zero patience for gossip. And I didn’t think he would do anything like that.”

  “But now you’re not so sure?”

  She gives me a pained, apologetic expression. “It’s not for me to say. I just wanted to tell you what I saw. Maybe it was just an innocent thing. It... doesn’t seem like the kind of thing Mr. Rivers would do. I have a lot of respect for him. For all of you. I really admire the way you’ve all kept this place running. Your parents would be proud.”

  I give her a small smile at the compliment, but I’m feeling the weight of everything she’s just told me. “Thank you, Renee. Do you have anything else to tell me?”

  She shakes her head. “No. And I don’t need to know anything more about this.” She holds her hands up. “I wanted to tell you and now I have. I’m not going to give it any more thought.”

  I thank her again and head back to the administrative offices, my thoughts heavy and my blood running cold. Even though it didn’t exactly prove anything, I feel uneasy about what Renee saw. But Rayce wouldn’t do something like that. Would he?

  I enter the offices not knowing what I’m going to do until I’m doing it. Rayce is sitting behind his desk, writing something on a small pad by his computer. I go in, shut the door behind me, and approach his desk.

  When he stops writing and looks at me, I look at him more closely than I have in a while. The truth is, something has been different not just with our relationship but with Rayce. I don’t know what, and I don’t know why, but something is different.

  I still don’t think he would do this, though.

  “I have a question for you,” I say quietly. There’s no animosity in my voice (the way there so often is these days, if I’m honest with myself). Right now, I’m putting everything else aside. I have a real question, and I need a real answer. I think Rayce senses it, because he puts his pen down, knits his brows at me, and leans back in his chair.

  “Okay,” h
e says. Also without animosity.

  “That column of Rita Becker’s.”

  His expression immediately goes hard. “Jesus, Connor. You should know better.”

  “Are you having a relationship with a Taylor Norell?”

  He freezes, holding my eyes. He looks uncomfortable.

  “You shouldn’t listen to rumors.” He picks up his pen, then puts it back down. I’m still standing here, watching him. I don’t want to believe it, but I don’t like what Renee saw. And I don’t like how he’s acting. I don’t like that he didn’t really answer my question. I don’t like any of this.

  Yet, I can’t see my brother doing something like this. I just can’t.

  He sees me watching him and lets out an exasperated sigh. “Oh come on, Connor.” He turns back to his computer, mouse clicking.

  Again, no denial. Heart pounding harder than I’d like, I say quietly, “Tell me it’s not true, and I’ll believe you.”

  Rayce looks at me then. He just looks at me, and I think he’s going to admit it. God, he looks like he’s going to say, ‘Yes, I’m having an affair.’

  But in a calm and sober voice he says, “It’s not true.” Then he gets up, and quietly leaves.

  I’m left standing there, knowing the truth.

  Chapter 23

  Whitney

  I’ve been offered a promotion. My boss wants me to be manager over the San Francisco resettlement team. It would mean more responsibility, more money, and more benefits. I’d be working with the refugee families who come over intact, not the orphans like I do now, so it’d be easier to deal with emotionally, I think. There’d be less direct contact with the people we serve, so that might help too.

  She told me to think about it and give her an answer next week. It’d be worth making a change and giving it a shot, if it weren’t for one thing.

  This last month with Connor has been amazing. Whether we’re talking on the phone or spending time together in person, every interaction I have with him just makes me love him more. He hasn’t asked me to move to Swan Pointe, but if he gets to the point where he’s ready, I already know I want to. I’ve flirted with the idea of making a career change for a couple of years now, always feeling so torn and undecided.

  Connor has tipped the scales.

  Starting over with a new career would be intimidating and risky, but it has the potential to pay off if I can find a better fit for myself, and the risks would be worth it if I could be with Connor while I’m doing it. The long-distance thing is already getting more difficult. I haven’t wanted to pressure him about anything though. It’s only been four weeks and I think we need to take our time.

  Well, I think Connor probably needs that anyway. I’m ready to take it to the next level right now. But I don’t want to push. I’m well aware of the fact that Connor’s going down a road he closed off to himself a long time ago.

  For that reason, I don’t know how to approach talking to him about the promotion. If I’m going to be making a move within the next year (please, oh, please) I don’t think it’d be fair to my boss to accept the promotion now.

  This week, we each took a long weekend because I’ve been wanting to go on an adventure with him. I didn’t care where. He brought me to Haida Gwaii, these beautiful islands off the western coast of British Columbia, where we’ve spent our first full day hiking through an ancient rainforest. I didn’t know rainforests existed this far north, though they look different than the ones on the equator. I must have taken fifty pictures of the trees alone. There are all these massive Sitka Spruce and Red Cedar that bring to mind the coastal Redwoods and giant Sequoias back home.

  We’re having dinner at a casual restaurant with good food and a view of Skidegate Inlet. We’ve finished our main meal, but are enjoying some dessert, in no hurry to leave. As we eat the delicate cream-filled pastry with ice cream and fruit compote, we’re trying to decide what we’ll do tomorrow. We’ve narrowed it down to either kayaking or boating around the north side of the island, which is supposed to have all these glorious coves.

  “Either is fine by me,” I say. “It’ll be fun either way.”

  “Too bad we can’t do both,” Connor says.

  I don’t think he’s used to having such a short amount of time to explore a place, but he’s being a good sport about it.

  “Are you missing that wide-open calendar?” I tease.

  He grins, lifts my hand, and plants a kiss on it. “I don’t miss anything when I’m with you.” I reward his sweet talking with a smile. “How about we just wake up tomorrow and see how we feel?”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  We polish off the rest of our dessert, then fall into a contented silence, watching the water.

  I’m again thinking about the promotion offer, trying to decide how to bring it up and what to say. But the opportunity passes me by yet again, thanks to my procrastinating, and Connor gets us on a new topic. The topic itself makes me clean forget the promotion. He thinks his brother might be having an affair with one of their employees.

  “What?” I ask, wide-eyed.

  Connor nods. “I’m shocked, too. I wouldn’t have thought he’d do anything like this. And maybe he isn’t but... I think he is.” Connor fills me in on his conversation with his Events Manager, and says he’s not sure if he should get Lizzy in on things, or talk with the employee himself, or what he should do. Then he tells me about Rayce’s denial, but Connor doesn’t believe him.

  Which leads to us talking about how strained their relationship still is. I knew it had been bad for several months. What surprises me is that it isn’t getting any better. I’d been under the impression that Rayce had been frustrated with Connor because he wasn’t making a decision about whether or not he’d continue at the resort.

  “I don’t understand why Rayce is still being so short with you. Now that he knows you’re staying, doesn’t he feel better about things?”

  “Uh.” Connor has an uncomfortable look on his face. “Well... I haven’t really made that official yet.”

  I blink, not processing what he said. “What do you mean, official? The lawyer doesn’t know yet?”

  He gives me an apologetic look. “No. Rayce and Lizzy don’t know yet.”

  My eyebrows shoot up and my blood drops. “You haven’t told them?”

  “I’m sorry,” he says. “I don’t know why I haven’t.”

  “But...” I’m trying to keep my cool, but this has knocked me off kilter more than a bit. “You told me you did.”

  “No, I absolutely did not,” he says, gentle but firm.

  Even as he’s saying it, I realize he’s right. He didn’t say that. He told me he wanted to stay. I had only assumed he’d told his siblings the same thing.

  “Why haven’t you told them?” It’s been a month. “Are you changing your mind?” My heart is pumping hard. God, my biggest fear has been that I won’t be able to keep this restless piece of wind after all, and this just proves I was right to fear it.

  “No, I’m not.” He leans toward me earnestly, and he does seem to mean it. It settles me a bit, but I’m still scared. “I just... I will. I promise.” He kisses my hand, then brings it into his lap and holds it tightly between both hands. I’m slowly settling down, but I’m watching him carefully, still unsure. “I will,” he says firmly. “I’m not changing my mind. All right?”

  “All right.” I don’t want to push it because he does seem sincere, but... it also seems like he should’ve told them by now. I can’t see why he wouldn’t unless he’s still not sure himself.

  “I just haven’t found the right time to have this conversation with them. It doesn’t help that Rayce is so hard to deal with right now.”

  “Maybe that will change once he knows.”

  “Maybe. But this thing with the affair makes me think there’s more going on with him than I thought. This is so out of character.”

  I sigh. I can tell he wants to talk about Rayce, but I don’t know if I want to change the subj
ect. I want to know that he’s staying for good, like I thought he was. But even though I still feel uneasy, I’m reluctant to pressure him. He said he’ll tell them. I think I can wait a little longer, to see what he does. “Well.” I’ll let the conversation go in a different direction for now. “Is there any chance he’s drinking too much or doing drugs or something?”

  “Drugs?! God, I hope not! Why do you think that?”

  “Well, I don’t, necessarily. It’s just that when you describe your brother when you guys were growing up, and even a few years ago, he seems really different than the person you describe now.”

  Connor sighs. “He is different.”

  “Maybe it’s this loss you guys have had. Do you think he’s grieving okay?”

  “Grieving okay?” Connor squeezes my hand and leans back in his seat. “I don’t know. I mean, it’s been hard on all of us. And he’s never been real touchy feely, so... I don’t know. Is there a wrong way to grieve?”

  “No. As long as you’re actually doing it. Maybe he’s avoiding it, or just not coping well with such a big loss. We see that a lot with our kids. Does he ever talk about your parents?”

  Connor nods. “Yeah, sometimes. He talks about how important it is that we live up to their legacy, you know?”

  I nod. I’ve heard this before. “But that’s just business.” I don’t think that’s the same thing as saying, I really miss Mom and Dad. “Does he ever talk about them like a son?”

  Connor gives me a funny look. “That is talking about them like a son. The resort’s not just a business, honey. It was Dad’s dream. His passion.” He cocks his head at me. “I haven’t told you how he started it all, have I?”

  I shake my head.

  “Ah, well.” He settles deeper into his chair and smiles a bit. “He and Mom were living up in San Francisco at the time, back when Rayce and Lizzy were little kids. I wasn’t around yet. She was an executive for this big hotel and he was a real estate agent, like his older brother. He sold these really high-end properties all over northern and central California. Sometimes SoCal too, but mostly upstate. Anyway, this client contacts him and says he wants him to list this property in Swan Pointe.”