by S. E. Rose
The girls giggle and the boys egg him on.
Grant rolls his eyes. “Come on, we have some game planning to do,” he says.
We all walk into our suite.
Grant grabs pain medicine and tosses them at me with a bottle of water.
“You’re going to the spa this morning, right?”
I nod. “Yep.”
“Good, you need to get intel. And record that shit,” he says.
I nod again as I take the pills.
“We’ll hit the bars and see if we can get a grasp on Lee’s true feelings for Maggie,” he says. “Then, you and I have that snorkel trip today.”
“Oh, yeah,” I say.
“You guys are going on that too?” Harrison says excitedly.
Grant nods. And Zach practically looks into his brain as his eyes roll.
“Great, we’ll reconvene at thirteen hundred,” Grant says.
I give him a sharp look. “OK, Sergeant,” I say saluting him and walking toward the bathroom.
“If you gentlemen don’t mind, I need to shower before my date with the Wicked Bitch,” I add.
They all laugh. “Oh, and maybe try the front door,” I say as I begin to strip.
Zach practically pulls Harrison out the door and Grant quickly changes and then goes to meet with his grandmother.
Ten minutes later, I’m showered and ready to go. I take a deep breath and step out into the humidity. If there ever was a time for my Academy Award-winning performance, this is it.
Chapter 10
“That color is amazing on you!” Maggie says in her sugary voice.
“Thanks,” I say with a smile. “And thanks again for inviting me.”
She waves a hand at me, clearly irritating the woman trying to paint her nails.
“The more the merrier,” she says.
“So, you’ve been on and off with Grant for a long time,” she pries.
I nod.
“How’s that going?” she asks.
I shrug. “It’s good. But enough about me, are you excited for the wedding?” I ask, trying to steer her away from the topic that could botch everything.
“Yeah, you know, it’s just a formality. We’ll be signing the real papers next week at home,” she says with a sigh. “But Lee wanted a ceremony and so did my mother.”
“Oh? You didn’t?” I prod.
“I really just want to be married already,” she says. Her eyes darting down to her invisible belly. Oh, she’s good.
“So, you guys want to start a family right away, huh?” I egg her on.
“Oh yes, Lee is very keen on having children, and so is his grandmother. She wants our families firmly united,” she adds.
“I’m sure she’d be fine with great-grandchildren whenever you are both ready,” I say to her.
She gives me a look, and I fidget with my phone trying to record what she’s about to say.
“Let’s just say, great-grandchildren are high on her priority list. Plus, it greatly increases Lee’s trust fund,” she says.
Seriously, the bitch wants more money. Wow, that is low, especially considering that she comes from a shit ton of money.
I feel like I’m missing a piece of this puzzle. It just doesn’t add up.
“I suppose that’s good for your future children. You know, having more money and all,” I add nonchalantly.
She looks at me completely seriously. “Money is everything,” she says haughtily.
I want to laugh. It takes every fiber of my being not to laugh. What a fucking snobby bitch!
“You are soooo lucky!” coos random friend of Maggie’s Number 4…yeah, I numbered them. It was easier than remembering their names, hers is something like Candy or Sandy or something cutesy with a “y” that I can’t remember, nor do I care to.
“Yes, I’m so jelly,” whines random friend of Maggie’s Number 2, who I think is the Clare or Clarise girl from the bathroom last night. “I mean, Lee is good looking, plus you are gonna be so fucking rich. Just make sure you send the private jet when we come to visit. Daddy refuses to buy us one, we have to share it with other people.” She rolls her eyes, like sharing a private jet is some sort of giant sacrifice.
I plaster on my Stepford wife smile, while internally wondering how the hell I ended up here with these fake, bitchy women. OK, so I’ve never “wanted” for anything in life. My mom and dad did well. We always had a nice home, in a nice neighborhood. My brother and I went to private schools. We took family vacations to Europe and the Caribbean. We had a beach condo that my parents rented out when we weren’t there. I got a Toyota when I turned sixteen. Yeah, I’m lucky, and I know it. But these ladies, these ladies grew up like Grant. Their worlds involve private jets, at least five houses, BMWs and Mercedes when they turned sixteen, and they went to boarding schools, fancy ones. Their parents owned companies, were movie stars and famous singers or ran countries. Grant has taught me all about “old money” versus “new money” and I can safely assume that all of these women come from “old money” or Grandma Satan would be displeased.
“So, what does your father do?” asks Number 3. Number 3 seems nice but I’m unsure about her. I believe her actual name is Diane Santerre and her grandfather owns utilities, you know, like the Boardwalk game. I think they are into both oil and coal. And I’m fairly certain that it’s been in her family for many generations since we had power and steam engines. And before that, I’m sure she is somehow related to royalty because she strikes me as that type. She has long blonde hair. She eats nothing, and I mean nothing. And her clothes all look professionally tailored to her size zero frame.
“He’s an attorney,” I say.
“Oh? Which firm?” she asks.
“Spencer, Monroe, and Miller,” I say. I see her eyes widen. It’s a good firm and she knows it.
“What did you say your name was?” asks Number 1. Now, Number 1, is a real piece of work. She’s a trust fund baby that lives in a penthouse in New York City. I only know this because she just spent thirty minutes on the phone with an interior decorator arguing over color swatches that were texted to her this morning. But it’s her name, Tuckerton, that has me understanding that she is of a whole other level of wealth. Her father is the famous Franklin Tuckerton. He is the son of a duke, but he is also the founder of the largest IT company in the world. His family is old money through and through but now they are just beyond rich. They make everyone else at this wedding look like they are one paycheck away from government assistance. OK, maybe that’s a stretch, but you get the picture now.
I’m beginning to sweat a little. Maybe I’m ill-prepared for such a crowd. I mean, has spending so much time with Grant and Beth prepared me for this? These girls live on another planet. At least Grant and Beth act normal. Hell, Beth gave all this crazy shit up for love. Plus, the woman is just cool as shit.
“Reagan Monroe,” I say.
She nods. Apparently, I’m acceptable. Great, she’s just like Grandma Satan. I’ll pass because my grandfather helped found a famous law firm forty years ago.
The rest of the spa treatment is uneventful. We sip champagne and Maggie goes on and on about every detail of the wedding, her upcoming honeymoon to Fiji, and the house they are purchasing in the Hamptons.
By the end of the morning, I want to put an ice pick through my head. When Grant shows up to get me at noon, I’m only too happy to play the loving girlfriend who needs to go get ready for her romantic afternoon on a yacht.
Some of the girls “oh” and “ah” over it while others look at us like we are crazy for swimming in the ocean. And a few say they’ll see us there since they are going as well. I grimace at the thought of spending more time with any of them.
Grant guides me back to our room to change. He’s ordered us some room service. We snack on quesadillas and sip champagne from our newly refilled alcohol fridge.
“So?” he asks.
“Well, she’s definitely trying to get more money,” I say.
“More?
” he says.
“She said something about getting more in the trust fund when they pop out kids,” I explain.
“But the Paynes are loaded. Why does she care if she gets a few more million?” he says.
“Exactly!” I answer. “It doesn’t make any sense.”
We are quiet as we both stew over this information.
“Something doesn’t add up,” Grant says after a long pause.
“I agree,” I say. “What about you? How was your morning? Did you guys get any good intel?”
He shakes his head. “Lee thinks Maggie shits sunshine. My grandmother wants me to sign more legal forms for my inheritance.”
“Great,” I quip sarcastically.
We toss stuff into a beach bag and head down to the hotel lobby. Harrison and Zach are already there along with a few other people from the wedding.
“Anything?” Zach says under his breath.
I shake my head. “She gets more money with a kid, but we don’t see why that would matter,” I say quietly.
“That’s weird,” Harrison adds.
Grant nods. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
“Oh shit,” I mutter as I look up.
“What?” Grant asks and then he looks up. “FML. Is that Felicia Tuckerton?”
I nod. “Yep, Number Uno.”
Harrison, Zach, and Grant all turn to me. “What? I numbered them. It was easier than trying to remember their names,” I explain.
Grant shakes his head, trying hard not to laugh, but Harrison and Zach burst into a fit of giggles.
“You numbered them?” Harrison says.
I shrug and giggle.
“That’s fucking brilliant!” Harrison says with a laugh. And just like that, Number 3 and 4 join her.
Harrison gives me a look.
“Uh, three,” I say motioning to the brunette, “and four.” I motion to the curly redhead.
Harrison is beside himself. He then launches into a bunch of number two jokes asking where she’s at and referencing Austin Powers.
“Harrison, get yourself together, douchebag,” Zach grumbles.
Harrison holds up a hand and is composing himself when Felicia walks over.
“Harrison, darling, how are you? I didn’t get to chat with you yet. Are you going to be going on this little cruise?” Felicia says. I’m suddenly perplexed. Maggie and her four disciples all poo-pooed this little trip earlier, so why the hell is she here?
“Grant,” I hiss under my breath as all the girls descend upon Harrison and Zach like they are some sort of revered gods.
“What?” he asks as we start boarding the shuttle that apparently takes us to a yacht we’ll be on for the day.
“Why do you think they came? Almost all of them told me this sounded horrible,” I say to him.
He looks back and chuckles. “Two words, Harrison and Zach,” he says.
“That’s three words,” I say to him with a smirk.
“Whatever. Clearly, Felicia wants to slum it with Zach, and she’s letting three and four battle it out for Harrison because they have no clue that he is gay,” Grant says, laughing to himself.
We settle into the two back seats. I’m surprised when Felicia sits down across from us and not next to Zach who’s in front of us.
“So, Reagan, you must tell me. When will we all be seeing you two getting married?” she asks. But something in the way she says it, makes me wonder if she knows more than she lets on.
“Well, we’ve only been back together for a few months, so no wedding bells for us any time soon,” I say to her.
“Oh?” she prods.
“Aren’t you dating Luc Garrison?” Grant inquires with a raised eyebrow.
She tosses up her hand. “Oh, Grant, darling, you know I’m not serious with anyone right now,” she says and then bats her eyelashes at Zach. Yeah, the bitch actually bats her fucking eyelashes like a cartoon character. I’m waiting for those red hearts to burst from her eyes.
Grant clasps my hands in his and kisses my cheek. “Ready for a little adventure,” he says to me. I turn to him, away from Felicia, who I’m beginning to think should have been Number 2.
Grant gives me a pointed look. I sigh. I know he’s trying to tell me to dial my bitch meter down a few notches.
“Yes, of course, dear,” I say to him.
He winks at me. “That’s my girl,” he says softly and squeezes my hand.
For reasons, unbeknownst to me, Grant is very good at calming me down. I notice Zach watching me, and I try to ignore him. I need to play the part of the doting girlfriend because something tells me that Felicia would most certainly rat us all out.
I lean on Grant’s shoulder and before I know it, I’m asleep. All the shenanigans of this week must have caught up with me.
It’s the poking in my side that wakes me.
“Oh good, you’re awake,” Grant says in my ear. “Now, I can finally be done posing as your bib.” I’m trying to open my eyes and understand what the fuck he’s talking about when I look over and see the drool mark on his shirt. I wipe my lips.
“Sorry,” I say to him.
He smirks. “You owe me,” he says. I look at him with a raised eyebrow. “OK, OK, we’re good,” he adds.
I nod and realize the bus is stopped. Everyone is getting off and walking over to a yacht, which does not look like what we signed up for earlier in the week. I start to turn to ask Grant if we took the wrong bus, but then Felicia speaks up.
“I decided to upgrade us. I just couldn’t have us going out on that little skiff the hotel wanted to use and my father’s friend’s vessel was available,” she explains. I look at the monstrosity of a “vessel.” The term is appropriate. After all, this “vessel” is more like a ship than a boat. It’s a three-story yacht with a helipad.
I look at Grant who looks like a kid in a candy shop. I look at Harrison. I want to laugh. My older cousin once told me about this toy that everyone wanted, and you would get called as they became available and then you’d be taken to this secret back room at the toy store to get it. I can imagine that the kids viewing those toys would look a lot like these two.
Zach, on the other hand, looks hesitant. Felicia is going on and on about all the features of the yacht. Numbers 3 and 4 keep nodding their heads and jumping up and down excitedly. I walk aboard and decide to locate myself as far away from them as possible.
“Excuse me, where will we be stopping for snorkeling?” I ask a crew member.
“Oh, I’m not sure we will be,” she says. “Miss Tuckerton didn’t put anything about that in the itinerary.”
Zach is behind me when I turn around, only he’s walking away from me toward Felicia. Great, I think to myself. Could this day get any shittier?
“Felicia?” Zach says. She perks up immediately and the unrefined part of me wants to sock her.
“I was really hoping we could stop at a reef today, so I can snorkel for a bit. I’ve always wanted to swim with sea turtles,” he adds.
“Oh, of course! I’ll let the concierge know,” she says as she walks up to a formal-looking gentleman and proceeds to change our agenda.
Zach turns and gives me a wink.
“Thank you,” I mouth, and he nods. I decide to explore this monstrosity of a yacht. I take my time, as I feel like I need a few minutes to myself, and everyone else seemed to go straight to the bar on the main deck.
I start at the bottom of the boat first. It’s the crew’s cabins and a crew member quickly directs me up above. Guess I’m not invited down there. I walk past about a half dozen staterooms on the next level. It’s as I make it to the main deck that I realize it’s actually four stories, the crew deck is all below the surface. I keep climbing up and find a cozy lounge at the front of the top level. I take off my shoes and wander over to a railing, peering over the side.
“Don’t jump,” I hear a voice say.
I jump and turn around to face Zach.
“Easy there, tiger,” he says as his han
ds come to rest on either side of me, essentially caging me in.
“Hi,” I say meekly.
“Don’t want to play with the others?” he asks.
I hear music crank up from below and the captain comes on to say we are leaving. After a minute, I look back up at Zach.
“No,” I answer quietly.
I have to admit, I’m slightly embarrassed by the antics I remember from last night.
My cheeks flush as I recall bits and pieces from the evening.
“You feeling better?” Zach asks. He’s so close I can feel the heat of his breath and smell the sunscreen he’s wearing.
“Yes, thank you,” I reply as I start to turn back around but he steps forward so I can’t move.
“Zach…” I whisper as I look up into his eyes.
“Reagan, I stopped myself from doing this last night, but I can’t wait any longer to kiss you,” he says in a low husky voice that has me going weak in the knees. He leans his head down to mine so that his lips are but a breath away from mine.
He only hesitates for a moment before pressing them against mine. His lips are like heaven. They are soft, yet firm as they take control. I become lost in the feel of his skin against mine. Suddenly, I want more, I need more. I grab his arms, partly to steady myself and partly to pull him closer. He reaches around me and presses me against him. His erection digs into my belly, and it lights me on fire. I want him so badly that I can taste it. It tastes like sin if sin tastes like mint with a hint of tequila.
He pulls back and looks down at me. “I’ve been wanting to do that since I saw you at the beach,” he admits.
I blush remembering our first encounter. My eyes looking anywhere but his.
“Don’t be embarrassed, Reagan. You are beautiful, inside and out,” he says as he takes a finger and tilts my head up so that we are staring at each other. “I’m glad we met, and I’m glad you aren’t with Grant,” he adds in a whisper.
We both hear several people coming up the stairs, and we jump away from each other like we have been electrocuted. I swivel around and look out again at the water.
“Oh, there you are, Zachary,” Felicia’s grating voice says. “Oh, Reagan, I didn’t realize you were here too.”