by Hart, Hanna
“And what?” Cooper snorted. “Wrestle me out of the house like when we were kids?”
“Don’t think I couldn’t do it!”
“Yeah, I know you could. That’s why I’m hanging up. Look, I’m just not up for it. I’d bring the whole night down. Sorry. Tell Paul I’m sorry.”
With that, Cooper tapped the phone and signaled the end of the call. He let it fall from his hands down onto the slippery hardwood floor and rolled onto his side.
He’d been ‘holed up’ for weeks now, only venturing out to work at his families
Cooper lived on Crystal Beach with the rest of the island’s elite. Unlike many of the other inhabitants of the island, he didn’t ‘summer’ here. He had lived here his whole life, save for a year he spent traveling abroad for business and the time he spent in university.
Cooper’s parents didn’t just live on the island. All of Crystal Beach Romance Resorts, one of the world’s most famous vacation and wedding hotspots, belonged to their family.
It was a multi-billion-dollar company.
He attended Harvard Business School and studied marketing for five years before returning to Crystal Beach.
During his travels in Europe, he had stayed the longest in Sweden, France, and Belgium. While in each country, he had managed to schmooze some of the country’s most influential businessmen and women and convinced them not only to invest in Crystal Beach, but also to buy homes in the residential area of the island.
Those actions not only secured his place in the family business but solidified his love for making it grow.
A knock at his front door broke him from his memories.
He let a small smirk pull at the corners of his lips as he stood, shakily, from his bed and made his way toward the front door.
Cooper already knew his brother and Paul would be the source of the knock.
“Suit up!” his brother yelled excitedly as Cooper opened the front door. Both Levi and Paul pushed their way through the entryway, and the door clamored shut behind them.
“Why?” Cooper laughed and pointed at his brother and Paul. “You clearly haven’t.”
He said this as he looked over his brother and his friend’s strange outfits. Tight blue swim shorts and matching bright red t-shirts.
“Hey!” Paul laughed. “We just left the marina!”
Paul and Levi were competing for the annual regatta—a boat race put on by the island. This had become one of the biggest events on Crystal Beach and drew in quite the crowd. Tourists, locals. Everyone was entranced by the competing sailboats.
It was all for charity, of course, but the bragging rights of the winner would carry through all year long.
“When I say you’re coming out, I mean you’re coming out,” Levi waved him off.
Then his younger brother raced in the room with a paper crown that looked like it came out of a fast food container and popped it on Cooper’s head. After doing so, Levi did a royal bow, and Paul quickly followed suit.
"The king!" Paul yelled in his best British accent.
"And what does every king need?" Levi began but then thought better of it.
Every king needs his queen, was what Levi was going to say. This was their comical way of trying to drag him to the bar. But the words had a double meaning since Cooper had just signed his divorce papers two months ago and had been a wreck ever since.
So yes, Cooper thought, he needed his queen back.
Desperately.
"To drink!" Levi finally finished.
"We joust!" Paul added for seemingly no reason.
Cooper managed a smile. He shook his head and offered, "There's some scotch in the hutch, and you're welcome to stay, but I'm not going anywhere."
"Gah, you say that like it's so final!" Paul whined, draping himself over one of the royal blue club chairs in the living room.
Cooper shrugged and made his way to the bar cart and the tall, dark walnut hutch beside it. He fetched his favorite scotch from the cupboard and grabbed three crystal drinking glasses. He set them on the table and noticed his brother staring straight into him.
"What?" Cooper asked.
"What, what?" Levi repeated with mild irritation. "We're not drinking your scotch, man."
"Well, I'm not going out," Cooper snapped. "So it's this or you leave."
"No," Levi insisted. "You've been hidden away for months. Paul says you have barely shown your face at work, even."
"Thanks, Paul," Cooper said with a verbal roll of the eyes.
"It's time," Levi said.
"And I say it isn't!" Cooper laughed. "And guess whose timetable I follow?"
Paul reached for the bottle of alcohol and began twisting the cap off as he mused, "I'm guessing it's yours."
Levi smacked Paul's hand away from the bottle and set it back down on the table. "Don't touch that; we're going out."
"No, we are not," Cooper said, enunciating each word.
"You look terrible, Coop," Levi said with a sigh. "I get it. Breakups are..." he faltered. "It sucks, okay?" Just as Cooper went to protest, Levi put his hand up. "I know! Brielle isn't the kind of girl you just 'get over.' I know! You've told me! She was great. Gorgeous. Smart. Blah, blah, blah. But you know what she wasn't?"
Cooper raised both brows.
"Fun!" his brother said. "And you are. Or at least, you used to be. So, slap on a smile and come out for a drink with us. You don't even have to drink! But at least sit there and let me pretend that I still have a brother who knows how to put pants on."
Cooper looked down at his pajama bottoms and then up at Levi. His brother, unfortunately, had a point. He hadn't been present with his family, friends, or work since Brielle left him.
But then again, Levi was only twenty-six, three years younger than Cooper. He had only had one or two serious relationships that Cooper could remember, and trying to get him to understand what a divorce felt like was futile.
Regardless, Cooper took a big breath and shook his head at Paul and Levi. "I hate you guys," he said with an exhausted laugh and walked back toward his bedroom.
"Fine!" he yelled as he reached his bedroom door. "We'll leave in five!"
The Queen Lanai, affectionately called "The Queen," was a floating restaurant and bar that you had to sign a waiver for before you could enter. In order to reach the duo tourist/local hotspot, you had to take a boat service that was provided by the restaurant.
The bar boat was two-tiered. The bottom level served pub fare and a housed a host of white tables and benches. The top tier of the floating vessel was a tiki bar, complete with hammocks, oversized beach beds, and white linen canopies with string lights hanging everywhere.
It was a trendy bar among for the younger inhabitants of the island. It had even captured the attention of the college crowd from the mainland. Throughout the week, professionals and trust-fund twenty-somethings could be found sipping sophisticated drinks and sharing stock tips.
But come Friday night, it was a straight-up party boat. Cooper always thought that sounded like an odd mix. College kids, alcohol, and the ocean? It seemed like a recipe for disaster. Or a giant lawsuit.
Levi and Paul took a seat on the upper deck while Cooper went to grab drinks. He held three fingers up to the bartender and then pointed toward the local island brand on tap.
“Hi,” said the girl standing next to him, also waiting for her drink.
“Hey,” he said with a dismissive nod, not making eye-contact.
“Whatcha drinking?” the girl asked, leaning her back against the tiki-themed bar top and arching it suggestively.
Cooper widened his eyes uncomfortably and said, “Beer.”
Silence hung between them. The girl smiled and then chirped, “Hey, you come here a lot, right? I think I’ve seen you guys here before. Or, at least, I recognize your friends… uh… uniforms?”
“Ah,” he said with a laugh. “Yeah, they uh. They’re rowers. And they’re also competing in the regatta so. Yeah. Embarrassing.” He shrugged.
“But, apparently necessary? The tights, I mean.”
The woman giggled at this.
“That’s my longwinded way of say that yeah, I come here. But you can’t blame me for not wanting to be associated with them, can you?”
“Ah,” she waved him off with a friendly smile. “It’s good to have friends. Even the weird ones.”
Cooper shrugged. “Sometimes.”
The moment she started talking to him, Cooper felt annoyed and awkward. He just wanted her to go away. But now he realized he’d somehow fell into some weird form of flirtation with the woman. It felt good and bad at the same time.
"So," she began in the coquettish way that girls do. She spun a lock of ginger hair in her fingertips and glanced down at Coopers shoes before giving him a once-over. Checking him out from bottom to top.
"Why don't you let me buy you a beer? Sit with me a while. I'll save you from your embarrassing friends. Will they mind?"
"Ahhyee," he mumbled out. It was barely a noise at all.
He bit his bottom lip and looked the girl over. She was beautiful; there was no doubt about that. Tall and thin. But then he thought of Brielle and felt a sick whirling in his stomach.
He winced and looked back at his friends before offering her a shrug. "No, sorry. Guys’ night."
"Oh," she said, taken aback. Clearly, she wasn't the type of girl to be turned down. "Okay. Do you mind if I at least come by for a drink, sit with you guys?"
Cooped exhaled. Now he just wanted her to leave him alone.
"Maybe next time," he said
"I'll try again in an hour," the woman said with a wink. "Maybe you'll find the change in company refreshing."
"Hm," was all he said as he took the three beers into his arms.
The woman was beginning to irritate him. Was this what it was like to be a female at a bar?
He wished she would drop it. Cooper nearly rolled his eyes at her, dragging their unfunny joke out for so long.
He got it. His friends looked immature. He looked professional. What an odd pairing.
Ha-ha.
Without saying another word to the woman, Cooper made his way back over to his friends. He set the drinks down and made an irritated expression.
“I can’t believe you didn’t go for it,” Levi said, nudging him on the arm.
“I can,” Paul said, receiving his beer with a large, foamy sip. “He’s not ready.”
“He’s not ready,” Levi repeated in a mocking tone. “I’m not asking you to marry the girl, but you could at least invite her over.”
“No,” Cooper snapped. “I put pants on. What more do you want?”
Paul laughed and waved Levi off. “Just leave him alone, man.”
“How’s the training going for the regatta?” Cooper asked, desperate to change the subject.
“Awesome,” Levi said, leaning into the small table with excitement, completely forgetting about lulling Cooper out of his slump. “It’s four weeks away.”
“What are you, pregnant? Why are you counting in weeks?” Paul snorted. “Just say a month, like a normal person!”
Levi rolled his eyes and continued, “So far there are thirty-four entries, including George Waddy.”
“Geez,” Cooper said.
Waddy was a skilled sailor from the islands. He won last year’s regatta with his boat, the Southern Breeze. He had plenty of money and plenty of time to sail.
“My nemesis!” Levi shouted comically, slamming a hand down on the table.
Cooper raised a brow and ran a hand along his stubbled chin. “Can someone be your nemesis if they’re twenty years older than you?”
Paul nodded, taking another sip from his glass. “Nemesis…” he paused. “Nemesi? Whatever. They’re ageless.”
“I’ll remember that for all the feuds I plan on starting,” Cooper said.
“We’re out there practicing almost every day,” Levi said. “You should join up.”
Cooper shook his head. He did enter last year on his Hanse 400. But Brielle was with him then, and somehow it made the event more exciting.
He had flown her banner on his sail. An upscale clothing boutique shop featuring her designs from the mainland, about a forty-minute ferry ride away. While this helped promote her shop, ultimate they sailed for an anti-human trafficking charity.
“Maybe,” he said, noncommittal. “It’s been a while since I was out on the boat.”
"She'll need a name change," Levi said, scratching his chest through his shirt. Then he laughed and added, "Unless you plan on crashing her."
Some people chose funny names for their boats, like Ships and Giggles or strong names like The Comet. But Cooper just wanted his ship's name to sound beautiful—regal. So, he named it Brielle.
It was the nautical version of tattooing someone’s name on your body.
A giant mistake now, considering how annoying, and sometimes dangerous, it could be to scrape the decal lettering off with a razor blade.
“I’m out!” Paul said, standing up from the table. He shook his empty glass—his way of asking the guys if they wanted another.
Cooper looked down at his cup, still nearly full, and shook his head.
The brothers watched as tall Paul left the table and then gave their attention back to each other.
“He should slow down,” Cooper mused.
“Yeah, well, he’s used to the morning-after headache.”
Cooper’s phone began vibrating, and he felt a pang of nerves erupt in his stomach. He stared at it with intensity, as though it might explode. Then he looked up at Levi.
“You gonna get that?” his brother asked.
“Nah,” Cooper shrugged, leaning back in his chair.
In his peripheral, Cooper could see Levi darting a stare into him. His younger brother reached across the pub-style table and snatched the phone. The screen was locked, but he could see the name of the person texting.
“Brielle?” Levi said, slamming the phone back down on the table. “Seriously?”
Cooper grit his teeth and pushed his phone back down into his pocket. “Don’t. I’m not in the mood.”
“Well, guess what? You haven’t been in the mood for anything lately. So, you’re going to have to hear this one out.”
“Can we not?” Cooper complained. He pinched the bridge of his nose and could feel his anger rising. “Can we just not, Levi?”
“What are you doing talking to her?” Levi fumed, leaning back in his chair—incensed.
“She texted me,” Cooper shrugged as though it was no big deal.
“The first week, you wouldn’t even get out of bed! This girl trashed you, man. Now you want to sign up for a little bit more punishment? What does she want… money? The condo? She ‘want you to sail her flag at the regatta?”
“Just to talk,” Cooper said, raising both hands to Levi in an effort to get him to lower his voice. “That’s it.”
“That’s never ‘it’ with her. Don’t be stupid.”
“I’m not stupid. I like hearing from her, okay? It’s the only part of my day that makes sense.”
“The only part of your day?” Levi repeated, feeling out the words. “What, does she text you every day?”
“For a couple of days,” Cooped gave a one-shoulder shrug. “She wants to get together.”
“No,” Levi said, crossing his arms. “I’m calling the family card and putting my foot down. And if you don’t listen to me, Paul will put his foot down. And if you don’t listen to Paul, then I’m telling mom and dad, and they’ll lose their minds on you.”
His brother’s tone was meant, in part, to be humorous, but his words only irritated Cooper.
“Look, you don’t know what it’s like!” Cooper snapped. “You named your boat after your dog!”
“So, what?” Levi laughed and tilted his head, watching Paul come back to the table with a full beer. “At least she’s loyal!”
Cooper set his jaw and gave a long, hard blink. When he opened his eyes, Paul was
staring between the brothers in surprise.
“Whoa,” Paul breathed. “What did I miss?”
Chapter Three
Grace
Crystal Beach Romance Resort Tourism Board. This is what the sign read outside of Grace’s work. The backstage offices inside the main resort complex building. This was where the magic happened.
Wedding planning.
Booking excursions.
Renting or buying properties on the island.
And making personal and professional appointments for the big boss-man.
For Grace, this meant interacting with the eldest son of the island owners, Cooper Grant, on a daily basis. Acting as his personal assistant.
She brought in papers and appointments, got approvals for events, and went on her merry way.
Cooper was usually one of the first ones in, which meant that Grace also had to be one of the first ones in. But today, he was nowhere to be found.
Grace had been at the office since six that morning—choosing to go back to work and distract herself from her horrible day.
At seven that morning, the first employee finally wandered in. It was the office secretary, Mirna.
Grace immediately felt sick to her stomach.
Crystal Beach was no stranger to the rumor mill. Suddenly, Grace began to realize that her being left at the altar had probably already run the gamut through many a prominent social circle.
And Mirna, with her doctor husband and hairdresser daughter, was always the best person to get the low-down from.
"Oh, uh, Grace! Hey, I didn't know you..." the Hawaiian woman stammered, not seeming to know how to finish her sentence. Finally, she decided on, "...were coming in today!"
"Surprise," Grace said unenthusiastically.
"Coffee?"
"Thanks," she said, shaking her head and raising a mug of black coffee. "I'm full up."
Mirna nodded and made herself a cup. Three creams, three sugar.
Bleh, was all Grace could think as she watched the woman mixing her drink. Way too sweet. Coffee is meant to be a pick-me-up, not a dessert.
She watched Mirna carefully, hoping she would go back to her desk and leave Grace to her work.
But no.
Mirna spun on her heel, holding her oversized coffee cup in both hands and walking back to Grace’s desk with a stare that practically screamed: ‘You poor thing.’