by Nadia Lee
Blaine glared at the white rectangle. Since his confrontation with Sean, he’d thought long and hard about the situation with Salazar. Sean was right about the money. It could change their lives for the better. Sticking to his pride might feel good now, but at the end of the day, he was the one who was fifty million bucks poorer. And if money were no longer an issue, Sean would go back to school. All that was required was for Blaine to be a little more flexible about how he saw the world.
Then there was another thing he’d been thinking about. “By the way…”
“Yes?”
“What’s between you and Catherine? She one of your lovers?”
Salazar chuckled. “I really must look like a complete idiot. Do you honestly think I would send an ex-girlfriend to convince you to join the family?” He tossed the empty coffee cup and bagel bag in the trashcan. “She’s the daughter of a man named Sebastian who was a good friend of mine. She’s had some bad stuff going on in her life, and I thought it’d be good for her to get away from everyone and stay here for a while. And do me a favor while she was at it.”
“You talking about her bigamist husband?”
“You know about that? News travels fast.” Salazar brushed crumbs from his slacks. “I don’t know what happened between the two of you, but whatever you did must’ve been bad. The way she sounded on the phone…I’ve never heard her like that.”
Blaine clenched his hands. Because of him, probably. He’d said some truly cruel things to her. And he was getting a sinking feeling that he had misjudged everything due to his dislike of Salazar.
“Just so you know, I didn’t appreciate it,” Salazar continued. “She’s an amazing woman, but extremely unlucky. Her entire life and self-worth have been defined by her beauty. Most people can’t see beyond it. Helen of Troy might’ve had a face that launched a thousand ships, but Catherine’s could launch a million. Her mother knew that and tried to capitalize on it when Sebastian lost everything in a series of poor investment decisions. Catherine wasn’t very”—he cast around for the right word—“academically inclined and didn’t do well in school. Surprising, because she’s no dummy. But her mother used that to bully her, telling her the only way she’d be able to become anything was marrying a successful—and by that she meant filthy rich—man. I treat her like one of my own, and if I thought Catherine could stand up for herself against her mother, I would’ve set her up with a trust fund the same as all my real children. Sadly, I don’t. I often wonder if I could’ve done something to prevent her from marrying that bastard Jacob in the first place.” His voice turned cold and hard. “So I don’t like it that one of my own kids hurt her.”
“It looked like she seduced me for money,” Blaine said almost defensively. He hated how small and mean he was feeling after Salazar’s portrayal of Catherine.
“‘For money.’ That’s hilarious. Blaine, fifty million seems like a lot to you, but it’s nothing to people in her social circle. One of her exes is worth twenty billion dollars. And you don’t even have the money yet. And you live in this small town, which, let’s face it, has very little to offer to somebody like her. If she slept with you, it’s because she liked you. As for Sean… He’s a big boy. If he can’t think with the head that’s sitting on top of his shoulders, he has no one to blame but himself. Now, there’s food in the fridge and the keys are on the counter. Have some breakfast if you like, and lock the house on your way out. Irene will come by later and pick them up at The Line.”
Salazar walked out the door and Blaine heard the car start outside. As much as he didn’t care for his so-called father, he had to admit Salazar had no reason to lie about Catherine. Based on Salazar’s description of the men Catherine used to date, it was clear that Blaine couldn’t compete with them on money. What had she called him?
Not even half a billionaire.
He thought back on everything she’d said and done and couldn’t find anything that seemed like she was pushing for reconciliation between him and Salazar. True, she’d asked about his father once, but she hadn’t tried to defend the man or anything…even when a perfect opening had presented itself.
He remembered how alone and desolate she’d been when she’d spoken of her broken marriage, nasty in-laws and unsupportive mother. Then how shattered she’d looked when he’d come accusing her of spying for Salazar and trying to get to him for the fifty million bucks—he’d essentially called her a whore.
Why had he been so cruel to her? He wasn’t like that, not even to Zoe. He’d been pissed off, of course—really pissed off—but there hadn’t been the same kind of keen disappointment or sense of loss, like something had reached inside his chest and ripped out his heart.
Don’t you get it, you moron? You’re in love with her. That’s why it hurt so much when you thought she betrayed you.
“Shit, shit, shit.” Still standing in the center of the room, he rubbed his hands slowly once up and down his cheeks. How could he have hurt her so much? He hadn’t even given her a chance to explain. No wonder she’d lashed back with those cutting words. He should’ve known Catherine wasn’t like Zoe or Ceinlys. Neither of them would’ve shown any kindness to a guy like Dusty or dirtied their hands helping out behind a bar. But he was still stuck in the past, and so he’d wounded her.
Blaine started pacing. There had to be something he could do. The wedding Salazar had mentioned must be the one Catherine was going to. All right, he would go. He’d take the damn money and go, and once he got there he’d do whatever he had to do to see if he could earn her forgiveness and even her love.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The family let Stella, Gavin, Amandine and Catherine take the main house they owned in Thailand and took over other resorts in the area. Gavin’s uncle Tony had sailed over on his yacht the Betsy Doll, and anchored at a local marina. A few of the older members of the family stayed with him.
Catherine’s gut twisted at the prospect of spending time with Stella. She hadn’t been a bad mother-in-law, but she also hadn’t been particularly warm or kind. The slightest twitch of her eyelids could convey a world of coldness and disapproval, and Catherine had been on the receiving end of it for years.
Still, she should try to relax. Jacob wasn’t around to poison things with his family. Hadn’t Amandine said Stella planted yellow roses in her garden? The family always looked at her garden to gauge her mood. It had to mean Stella no longer considered Catherine beneath them.
Besides, she hadn’t done anything to be ashamed of. Jacob was the one at fault for their marriage falling apart, and his friend Simon was to blame for the company’s financial problems.
When their two SUVs pulled up in front of the Lloyds’ family vacation home, Stella came out from the pool and patted herself dry. Water droplets formed on the wisps of hair that had escaped her dark, silver-streaked bun. A blue one-piece bathing suit looked good on her. She wrapped a white robe around herself, slipping her feet into pink flip-flops. “You’re all here,” she said, stretching her arms out.
“Mom.” Gavin hugged her.
Stella embraced Amandine, then turned to Catherine.
Catherine waited for the perfunctory nod, but Stella placed a quick peck on her cheek, then drew back, holding Catherine at arm’s length and looking her in the eye. “I’m very glad you decided to attend, Catherine.”
Taken aback, Catherine murmured, “Thank you, Stella.”
“Come. Let’s go inside. Oh, and look at little Jeremy! He’s adorable! Let me.”
Amandine relinquished her son to Stella to fuss over. The house staff came out and started dealing with the luggage.
“I’m leaving the master bedroom to the two of you,” Stella said to Amandine and Gavin. “The guest bedroom is really better for me. And the ocean view room’s yours, Catherine.”
Catherine bit her lower lip at the unexpected gesture. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. The sound of the waves keeps me up at night,” Stella said.
As excuses went, it
was fairly lame. But Catherine didn’t argue. If Stella wanted to take the room facing the forest, that was her prerogative. And if this was an olive branch, Catherine didn’t want to upset her by turning it down.
The dinner went surprisingly well. The food was great—Catherine loved Thai—and the conversation flowed without any awkwardness or pauses. Stella was one of the best hostesses and conversationalists Catherine knew.
“I understand Salazar’s bringing a special guest,” Stella said. “I saw his crew preparing the house for their arrival.”
“Who?” Amandine asked, but Catherine knew—Blaine.
“I haven’t heard. Hopefully not another of his mistresses. I don’t know if Barron will stand for it,” the older woman said. “I certainly wouldn’t.”
“Even if he brings a mistress, Ceinlys won’t make a scene,” Gavin said. “She won’t do anything that could jeopardize her social status.”
He was probably right. Even with her status as matriarch of the Pryce clan, ruining Kerri’s wedding would infuriate Barron. And the man was heavily into revenge.
“But the awkwardness! It simply won’t do. Even if that old mule is okay with it, I’m not.”
Catherine felt her jaw drop. Had Stella just called Barron an old mule?
“He and I organized the wedding together,” Stella said to Catherine. “If it had been up to him, he would’ve bought an island for the ceremony. Outlandishly expensive and frivolous. The man has no concept of proportion at all. He’s worse than you, Gavin.”
“Hey!”
“I’m sure that’s what gave him the reputation for being so excessive,” Catherine said diplomatically.
“Undoubtedly.” Stella sighed dramatically. “Men.”
After dessert, Amandine and Gavin excused themselves, saying they needed to check up on Jeremy. Once they were gone, Stella poured another glass of sherry. “Would you like more, dear?”
“No, thank you,” Catherine said, mindful of the additional calories.
“How have you been?”
“Well…” She smiled wanly. “What can I say?”
“I wish you’d come see me, but I understand why you didn’t.” Stella sighed. “When I heard about your visit to Ethan”—she shook her head—“I couldn’t believe he was so insensitive to you, especially given the circumstances.”
“He was probably just worried about The Lloyds Development.” The company was the Lloyds family’s biggest cash cow—or it had been once. It had generated a handsome return for its shareholders. Not everyone in the family needed the money, but some did, and when it stopped producing, certain people had had to scramble.
“He’s overzealous from time to time, and it’s backfired on him before. I always tell him to take a step back, but I suppose it’s not easy to take his mother’s advice when he’s all grown up.” Stella took a big swallow of her sherry. “I’m sorry, dear. I haven’t been fair to you.”
“Please, you don’t have to apologize.”
“But I do. I knew something wasn’t right between you, Jacob and Gavin. I didn’t know exactly what it was, but if I’d been more honest with myself, I would’ve realized it was Jacob. He’s always been jealous of his brothers.” Bewildered disappointment etched tired lines on Stella’s face. “I thought he’d gotten over that once he took over the company and got married. He had you, and TLD was doing so well. He should’ve been happy his brothers were successful on their own.” She ran a hand over her forehead and sighed.
To Catherine’s surprise, Stella’s typically steady fingers were shaking. Her usually luminous skin seemed thin and brittle. For the first time, Catherine could see the age and frailty in her mother-in-law.
“It was easier to blame you than face the idea that I didn’t do something right with my oldest.” She closed her eyes briefly. “Thank goodness my husband isn’t here to witness the mess. He would’ve been furious.”
Catherine reached out and held Stella’s hand, finding it surprisingly cool. “It’s not your fault. Sometimes things just don’t work out. And sure, Jacob…has some issues. But you have other children who are wonderful, warm-hearted, honest and smart. You should be proud of yourself for having raised them. It’s not your fault Jacob is what he is.”
“Oh, dear.” Stella blinked away tears. “I was supposed to console you and tell you everything’s going to be all right and that we’re going to take care of you. And instead here you are, comforting me.”
“Let’s not dwell on the past. We can’t change any of it. Instead we should focus on now and the future.”
“Thank you, Catherine.”
“Thank you, Stella. And when I get a chance, I want to see your garden. I hear you redid it.”
Stella smiled. “That would be nice.”
* * *
Blaine eyed his half-brother on the other side of the jet. Dressed in a white polo shirt and khaki shorts, Mark had come onboard when the plane stopped briefly in L.A.
Mark was blue-eyed, brown-haired and had Ceinlys’s mouth—full and on the wide side. He tapped on his tablet and chuckled a bit, but hadn’t said anything since he’d gotten on the plane. Was he upset about Blaine? How much of a mama’s boy was he?
“What?” Mark said, looking up suddenly.
“What do you mean, what?”
“You’ve been staring at me since we left L.A.” Mark said, looking Blaine up and down.
Blaine gritted his teeth at the scrutiny, but bore it in silence. He wouldn’t let the rich kid bug him.
“Catherine saw you in Cooter’s Bluff, didn’t she? I know Dad sent her there to talk some sense into you.”
Blaine scowled. “Is that so?”
“Saying no to fifty million is pretty impressive.” Mark grinned.
The tension in Blaine’s neck and shoulders loosened a notch.
“And Catherine. Even more difficult to say no to.”
Blaine did his best to ignore the tension creeping back into him at the mention of her. “But not impossible.”
“Are you telling me you don’t find her attractive at all?”
He didn’t want to discuss Catherine. “Salazar was going to give the money to Ceinlys if I didn’t take it. I didn’t want that.”
Mark frowned. “You sure?”
“Yup.”
“That’s interesting. Dad never gives her a penny more than what’s in the prenup.”
“Huh. They got a prenup?”
“Of course. It’s a pretty standard Pryce prenup. Mom’s not from a rich family, and my grandmother wasn’t going to let her marry Dad without some protection.”
Rich people and their worries. “What’s in the prenup?”
Mark shrugged. “Stuff like her allowance and what happens if they get divorced. It doesn’t matter much now since I doubt they’ll ever get divorced. Everyone calls them The Eternal Couple.”
What the…? “If they’re that much in love—”
Mark burst out laughing. “Love?”
Blaine frowned. “Eternal sounds pretty romantic.”
“It’s not love. Mom doesn’t want to…start over, and Dad can’t be bothered. He doesn’t care so long as he can do what he wants.”
Meaning cheating on his wife because he couldn’t be faithful to any woman. “How long has it been that way?”
“Ever since I remember.”
“Kinda shitty for you.” At least Blaine’s mom hadn’t been in an unhappy marriage with a guy who didn’t care about her. For the first time in his life, he felt a smidgeon of pity for Ceinlys.
Mark shrugged. “It wasn’t that bad. We had great nannies.”
Blaine searched for any hint of sarcasm or lies, but Mark seemed pretty serious. Good lord. Was that how rich kids lived? This kind of stuff was normal?
Was this how Catherine had been raised as well?
“Don’t look at me like that,” Mark said. “It’s the way things are in Pryceland.”
“You don’t resent me showing up out of nowhere?” If Blaine had bee
n in Mark’s shoes, he would’ve been furious his dad decided to bring his by-blow home and hurt his mom.
“Why should I? All of us know about Dad’s affairs. When people play around, they sometimes make babies. I’m surprised there’s only been one.”
“Doesn’t bother you at all that your dad wasn’t faithful?”
Mark pressed his lips together and shrugged. “What could we have done? Mom didn’t want to rock the boat so long as she could stay married. And interfering in Dad’s sex life would be…” He shuddered. “A bad idea.”
But that wasn’t true, was it? Ceinlys had resented her husband’s cheating ways. She’d come to Cooter’s Bluff when Blaine was a child to warn Georgia Love away from her husband…like a naive country girl would know how to take Salazar from somebody like Ceinlys. Blaine remembered how coldly calculating and sophisticated she had seemed. She thought nothing of ruining someone else’s life to get what she wanted.
Blaine’s stay at the Pryce’s vacation home wouldn’t be all polite smiles and happy “let’s get to know each other better” stuff. He didn’t have to be a psychic to know it.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Amandine’s eyelids drooped, and her breathing deepened. Catherine watched her cousin fall asleep as Humphrey Bogart said some sharp words to the love of his life on screen. Some things never changed. Lovers holding a grudge after an affair gone sour was one of them.
Catherine checked her watch. Wow, eleven already? She turned off the movie and went upstairs, leaving her cousin to rest. Stella had left to see Barron after breakfast to go over the final details of the wedding, but she hadn’t returned yet. Poor Kerri and Ethan, Catherine thought. They didn’t seem to get a vote on how their wedding ought to be. But then it probably wasn’t easy to fight the combined wills of Stella and Barron.
“Where’s Amandine?” Gavin asked from the office as Catherine went by, his hands stilling on his laptop keyboard.
“Napping in the movie room. Not even Casablanca could keep her awake.”
He nodded. “Jeremy was up and down all night long.”