by Janna King
“It’s a one-billion-dollar company,” said J.P. “Your personal opinion is not the collective opinion.”
“But mine is the only one that counts.” Presley pulled out a one-piece with red, white and blue crochet in the center.
Jade grabbed a two-piece. “My dad can’t be brought down.” She changed from her T-shirt into the bikini top right there. “He’s untouchable.”
“We have more appeal in one Instagram post than they’ll have in an entire TV series. Let’s show Lyndon we can sell it.” Presley turned to Mia, who was standing at the French doors, staring out at the beach. “Mia’s gonna sell it because she’s got the most skin in the game. She got her contract for the dress last night.”
Mia glared at Presley, who wore that pageant grin. There was only one way Presley could’ve known about the contract.
“That’s awesome, Mia.” Cole offered up a genuine smile. “Congratulations!”
Mia shifted her feet under all their gazes as she stood across the room, separate from them.
After they changed into the suits and made their way to the beach, they formed their pyramid. The three guys were on all fours at the bottom, with Presley and Jade on the second level, and Mia, being the smallest, on the top. They put on their brightest smiles as Vincent snapped photos. They were a picture of the American dream on America’s biggest day.
“Fini!” shouted Vincent with the last shot.
They collapsed the pyramid into the sand, laughing.
Mia and Cole started to roughhouse in the sand. Cole tickled her. His smartphone slipped from his pocket. Mia noticed he had received a text from “Unknown” and no preview showed. Cole picked up the phone, his thumb hitting the Home button. The screen opened to the text:
We r close.
Mia saw it. She stopped laughing.
Cole pushed the phone back into his shorts’ pocket as if nothing had happened. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t like being tickled.” Mia wasn’t lying. Being tickled made her feel like she couldn’t breathe, but for some reason, until she’d seen the text, it wasn’t so bad with Cole. Brushing the sand off, she got to her feet and walked toward the estate.
Cole threw his hands in the air and flopped back in the sand. “Where are you going?”
“I have dinner to cook.”
“My Phillies-win din!” Grant threw his arms in the air.
“It’s not attractive to gloat,” said Presley, kicking water at him.
Jade laughed. “That’s funny coming from you.”
“Guys, let’s get some shots diving off the dock,” said Vincent.
“Dock out with our cock out!” yelled Grant. He took off toward the estate’s private dock.
“I don’t need a dock to see that,” Jade said to J.P.
In the kitchen, Mia looked through Cole’s Instagram, which, oddly enough, didn’t go back much past the start of the season. She smiled when she saw she had been tagged in several posts. Her smile disappeared when she found an Instagram post from the Summer Solstice Soiree with @stilljilll, arm-in-arm on the dance floor. But there were no others with Jill. As much as she hated herself for doing it, she found Jill’s Instagram. There were four posts with Cole and a few with people Mia didn’t know at the store and in town. The one-to-four ratio made Mia believe that Cole and Jill had a “thing,” but that the thing meant more to Jill.
Or that’s what Mia wanted to believe.
“I can boil water,” said a spun-sugar voice.
Mia turned to see Presley. Jade was by her side. Mia clicked off her phone as Presley pulled a large pot off a hook.
“I’ll chop,” said Jade, grabbing a knife from the knife block.
“Let’s get cooking.” Mia pulled vegetables out of the refrigerator.
At the dock, Vincent took advantage of the late afternoon sun, letting the rays streak across his photos of the three guys, who drank beers and jumped. As the bottles drained, the water play got fancy. Cole did a cannonball. J.P. jackknifed. With his back turned toward the harbor, Grant hollered and threw himself backward, tucking in his knees and doing a flip.
Cole took a selfie with J.P., and Grant photobombed from the water. Cole posted on Instagram:
Divebomb. #BeWyld #bromance
Grant climbed out.
“I give that backflip a six,” remarked Vincent, chuckling.
“Oh, really? You can do better?” Grant raised his eyebrows in a challenge.
“I can, but I’m doing my job here.” Vincent wiped a splash of water from his camera lens.
“How about if we get a photo of you showing us how diving is done,” said Grant.
“Lyndon did say we should live life to the fullest,” added J.P. with a grin.
“Ooh. Peer pressure?” Cole gave a good-natured shrug at Vincent.
“I’m a decade older than all of you, so you’re not my peers,” said Vincent, handing Cole his camera. “But being the elder statesman here, I’m compelled to prove myself.”
Vincent slipped off his loafers and removed his shirt. He was lean, his body hairless. Wearing just his calf-length linen shorts, he stepped to the edge of the dock. He motioned to Cole. “You can take the shot,” he said.
“You think I’ll drop your precious baby?” said Grant, mock offended.
“Absolument.”
Mia walked down the dock to them, holding a chilled six-pack. “Thirsty?”
Cole turned to see her and snapped a photo.
“Hey, I’m pretty good at this,” he said.
Mia looked at the photo. “My eyes are closed. Don’t quit your day job.”
Cole furrowed his brow.
“Mia’s got an eye. Let her take the photo,” said Vincent, shaking out his legs like an Olympic diver.
Cole handed Mia the camera.
Vincent took a deep breath and dove off the dock, slicing the water with barely a splash. Mia got three action shots. After a beat, Vincent resurfaced, wearing a triumphant grin.
Grant kneeled on the dock. “An eight, if I’m gonna be generous.”
Vincent climbed his way back up. Lifting his leg onto the dock, he froze in pain. “Merde!”
Mia rushed over. “You okay, Vincent?”
“My back,” croaked Vincent. Grant and Cole helped him the rest of the way.
“But you nailed the dive!” exclaimed Grant.
“Fucking right I did.” Vincent put his hand to his lower back.
They returned to the estate with J.P. and Cole supporting Vincent on either side.
“I’ve got something that’ll help,” said Grant, bolting into the main house.
Mia, Cole, and J.P. escorted Vincent to the guest cottage.
“I’m okay.” Vincent waved them off at his door.
“You sure?” asked Mia.
Vincent nodded. “Thank you. I just need to rest.” He disappeared inside. Mia, Cole, and J.P. walked off.
“It was actually an amazing dive,” said J.P.
Grant ran back out, passing them. He flashed the two pills in his hand. “Doctor Feelgood on call.”
“I didn’t know you had a medical degree,” said Cole.
“You don’t need one around here.” Grant continued jogging to the guest cottage.
“Supper’s almost ready,” Mia called after him. When she, Cole, and J.P. disappeared into the main house, Grant knocked on the guest cottage door. Vincent opened it.
“Hey,” Grant said, breathless.
“Hey,” Vincent replied with an eye roll and a smile. He motioned Grant inside. “Take your sandals off.”
TWENTY-NINE
The sunset cast an orange-pink glow to the deck. Mia, Jade, and Presley had set the table, Jade sprinkling blooms along it from the farmers market. J.P. brought up three bottles of rosé from the wine cellar. Still missing Grant and Vincent, the others sat, staring at the meal, which included a giant, delicious-looking platter of pasta with marinara sauce.
Mia avoided Cole’s gaze.
“
You’re so fucking lucky, Mia,” said J.P. “There never seems to be a good time to talk business with Lyndon or Grace.”
“Not everyone wants to hear about your caps.” Jade took a sip of wine.
“Hats,” corrected J.P.
“Potato, potahto.” Jade shrugged.
Presley looked at the time on her smartphone. “Well, this is rude.”
“Maybe Grant’s taking a shower,” said J.P.
“He does take really long showers.” Cole nodded.
Mia stood and topped a plate with spaghetti and salad. “Vincent should rest. I’m going to bring him some food.” She grabbed utensils and a monogrammed napkin and walked with it all to the guest cottage. She knocked on the door.
“Vincent, I have food for you.”
There was no answer. After a beat, Mia placed the tray on the wicker table between two matching chairs on the small porch. Beneath the table were Grant’s flip-flops. She looked at them curiously and made her way back to the main house, joining everyone else on the deck.
Presley put food on her plate. “According to Miss Manners, you can start eating before everyone arrives if the food is hot.”
“It’s probably not hot anymore.” Jade tilted her empty wineglass.
“I think it’s fine.” Mia looked distracted while she uncorked the wine and poured a glass for Jade. Cole put spaghetti on his plate and tucked into it.
“Compliments to the chef,” he said, wiping his mouth with his napkin.
“Thank you,” said Mia, sitting between Presley and Cole.
Grant leapt out onto the deck from the house, painkiller buzz going. He poured himself a generous glass of rosé and drank thirstily. Pulling over the platter of pasta, he scooped a mound onto his plate, then dug in before sitting down. He took a chair next to Cole, who eyed him.
“Mia, this almost Lenny Dykstra–worthy,” he said, mouth full.
“‘Almost?’ How long are you going to rub it in?” Mia threw a hunk of ciabatta at him. He ducked and it flew off the deck. A seagull swooped in and pecked at it.
“I’ll rub it in as long as the Sox lose, which will be often.” Grant took another bite.
Vincent hobbled in to take photos, still clearly in pain.
“What are you doing, Vincent?” asked Mia, concerned. “You should be in bed, resting and eating the supper I left you.” She pointed to the marinara sauce. “According to my grandmother, this sauce has magic healing powers.” What she didn’t say was that the sauce didn’t heal her mom.
“I’ve got a job to do here,” said Vincent.
He gingerly knelt down to take a photo of J.P. and Cole toasting. Mia noticed two red marks on the side of his neck, barely covered by a linen scarf. She flashed on Ruby’s bruises.
“Nice hickey,” said Presley, noticing as well.
“It’s not a hickey.” Vincent adjusted the scarf. “I grazed the dock pylon I shimmied up after my celebrated dive.” He continued to snap photos. “Who gives hickeys anyway? They are not sexy.”
Mia tried not to stare. She turned her focus to Grant, who was devouring his spaghetti like it was his last meal, and she remembered him walking up the beach that night of the Summer Solstice Soiree.
“We’re finally starting to feel like a little family, aren’t we?” Presley grinned at the others. “Families fight but we always make up.” She gave Mia’s hair a stroke. “My mama and daddy would practically kill each other, but next thing you knew they were kissing and carrying on. Neither would ever abandon ship, though sometimes we wished they would.”
“Do you believe in unconditional love?” Mia posed the question to the table.
“Fuck, no.” Presley took Mia’s finished plate, elbowing Grant in the shoulder as she passed. “Help me clear. I’m being helpful this week, and it’s the least you could do.”
“What? That’s not part of the deal,” whined Grant as he looked at Mia.
“Your bet was with Mia, not me. I always win,” said Presley.
Grant dragged himself up and dutifully gathered plates.
“I shopped, I cooked, I conquered.” Jade rose. “Now, I’m taking a bath.” She sashayed inside.
“I’ve got work to do.” J.P. followed her, passing Grant and Presley.
“Is that code for ‘sex’?” Presley asked him. “Because Lord knows, she makes you work for it.”
“No, I really have work-work,” replied J.P.
Vincent took a photo of the three at the French doors. “This is an image booster. Hashtag ‘Work.’ Hashtag ‘Not Spoiled.’ Hashtag ‘We Do Windows.’”
“Hashtag ‘Bite Me.’” J.P. retorted. He and Vincent chuckled as Grant went inside with Presley.
She turned to him. “Now I know why you haven’t tried to hook up with me.”
“Because you’re not my type?” said Grant.
“Exactly.” Presley strutted into the kitchen.
Mia caught Grant’s glance at Vincent, who stepped off the deck.
“I’m going to capture this sunset.” Vincent left Mia and Cole alone.
Mia swirled the wine around in her glass, staring into the pink whirlpool. Cole leaned toward her.
“Are you going to give me the silent treatment all night?” asked Cole.
“You don’t have to sit with me, Cole,” said Mia.
“Where else would I go?”
Mia looked around. “To meet Jill.”
“She lives in Barnstable,” answered Cole. “Takes the ferry out here to work.”
“That’s inconvenient, since you’re getting close.” Mia heard Presley’s bitchiness in her own voice. She shut her eyes.
Cole leaned into her. “Jill and I aren’t hooking up, Mia.”
“You don’t need to explain anything to me.” Mia meant it. She felt bad enough that she’d stalked Jill’s Instagram.
“I don’t need to but I want to.” Cole put his palms on the table. “Jill has become a good friend, but you’ve seen us. There’s no chemistry.”
“Cole, honestly, I haven’t given much thought to your chemistry.”
“Jill isn’t interested in my type,” said Cole.
“That’s hard to believe,” scoffed Mia. “What type interests her?”
“Your type,” answered Cole.
Mia’s face flushed as this information registered. “Oh.” She felt like an ass.
“I promised myself that I wouldn’t get involved with anyone this summer.” Cole looked into Mia’s eyes. “But I like you, Mia.”
Mia finished off her wine. “Do you want to do a photo shoot with me tomorrow?”
Cole nodded. “I do.”
“I do, too.” Mia and Cole turned to Presley, walking out on the deck with dessert.
THIRTY
I don’t understand why you get to do this photo shoot alone.” Presley rushed from the house after Mia, who was striding to the G wearing the Mia dress that Nadege, the housekeeper, had handwashed and pressed after its soak in the sea. She had it paired with ribbed black tights and black riding boots that Lyndon had sent overnight, which gave the ensemble an avant-garde edge.
“I’m not alone. I’m doing it with Cole.” Mia had done her makeup by herself in the bathroom. She looked fresh and pretty.
Vincent was in the car’s driver’s seat while Cole was in the back, wearing a Lyndon Wyld chambray button-down, jeans, and laced boots.
“You’re a city girl,” scoffed Presley. “I’ll bet you don’t even like horses.”
“Every girl loves horses,” replied Mia. “I’ve never seen one in person, but now is my chance.”
“Who came up with this idea?”
Mia stopped and looked at Presley. “I did. Vincent thought of a location that would make my dress pop. And the powers that be were on board.”
“Oh.” Presley stood there stunned as Mia climbed into the car next to Cole.
“Off to greener pastures,” said Cole.
Vincent motored them out of the driveway. Mia didn’t look back. They ventured
to the opposite side of the island, where the estates were spread out so far, each was like its own fiefdom. The car continued onto a private peninsula.
“This isn’t even on the map anymore,” noted Vincent. “It used to be called Brock’s Lookout. A friend of Lyndon’s owns it as a retreat, some manufacturing tycoon. It’s seventy acres.”
“What?” Mia gasped.
“There’s nothing else like it on Nantucket,” remarked Vincent.
The sprawling compound sat on a hilltop, with crystal waterfront on three sides. The G crossed a wooden bridge over a salt marsh and reached an electronic gate, where an old barn had been artfully turned into a gatehouse. The guard walked up to Vincent.
“We’re here for the Lyndon Wyld shoot,” said Vincent.
The guard motioned them on. Along the driveway were two lush green pastures where several horses wandered. In the distance sat the expansive main house, with three separate guest houses. Vincent parked by the stables, which bustled with several groomers, handlers, and stall cleaners. He, Mia, and Cole got out of the car.
“Somehow I thought it would smell worse here.” Mia inhaled the scent of fresh hay mingled with sea.
While Vincent prepared his cameras for the shoot, a trainer brought around a majestic horse with a coat that looked like silver crushed velvet.
“Beautiful!” exclaimed Mia.
“This is Granite,” said the trainer. “He’s a gelding.”
“What’s a gelding?” Mia inched closer to the horse.
“He’s neutered.” The trainer stroked Granite’s neck. “Geldings are easier to train than stallions.”
Cole covered his crotch with his hands, which made Mia laugh.
Mia gently caressed the horse’s nose. “Hi, Granite.”
Cole pet Granite’s neck. The horse lifted his snout as if to demand they continue pampering him.
“I went to summer camp, but I think those horses were actually mules, because they looked nothing like this,” said Cole.
“I’ll help you up.” The trainer motioned to Mia.
“Where’s the saddle?” Mia looked at Granite.
“You’ll have a bridle but no saddle.”