Kevin on the other hand …
Right now, he was working on his MacBook, his fingers moving very fast, punctuated by the soft clicking of the keys. His heavy brows were furrowed and his lips moved almost imperceptibly as he typed, almost as though he was sounding out each word.
“I hope you didn’t bring a lot of clothes.”
Lia turned to face Nicki at the sound of her voice.
“No. Shorts, two swimsuits, a few casual tops, and sandals, just like the memo said.”
Nicki nodded. “We can go shopping when we get to Miami. We’ll spend the night in South Beach where we have a condo, and then meet up at our parents’ house tomorrow afternoon. So, we’ll have a little time to get you some dresses, stuff like that.”
“I hate to ask, but will the dresses …?”
“It won’t come out of your pay or anything, don’t worry.”
“Okay. Thanks. Because …”
“I know. Modeling isn’t the lucrative career it’s been cracked up to be. I tried my hand at it once.”
“You did?” Lia was surprised. Modeling wasn’t exactly a common pursuit for society girls of Nicolette Morgan’s caliber.
“Yup. We grew up on the beach, and in Florida there’s tons of modeling scouts roaming the sand. When I was in high school, one of them approached me. It was strictly small-time and local stuff, and my father made me stop when it was time to think about college.” Nicki shrugged. “It was boring as hell anyway. I mean …” She looked mortified, realizing she had insulted Lia’s career, or what she believed to be Lia’s career anyway. “I mean, for me it was boring. But I can see how …”
“No. It is boring,” Lia confirmed. “It’s not something I want to do with my life or anything. Just a side-gig.”
“So, about the clothes. I know it probably sounded weird. But it’s just that you never know what people think is appropriate, y’know? And since we don’t like, really know you, I thought it would be better for me to pick the stuff you’ll be wearing for the dinners and outings we’ll do with my family. My father is a little on the conservative side about things like that.”
“No, it’s practically a bonus,” Lia said. “I mean, I hardly ever go shopping so it should be fun.”
“Yeah. Right?” Nicki’s face brightened. “I thought it might be. The boys can help us.”
“Nope. The boys can’t,” Kevin said without looking up.
Nicki laughed. “C’mon. You have amazing taste, Kev. And you’re probably the best person to tell me what Daddy would lift his eyebrows at. Remember the Biscayne Ball? I thought he’d crap himself when I came downstairs in that white dress.”
Kevin laughed along with her. He had an earthy, throaty laugh that Lia felt in the pit of her stomach, and that made it impossible for her not to at least smile as well. “It had a neckline down to your navel, Nick.”
“I thought it was cute. And Miami’s a tropical climate!”
“If that’s your justification, then yeah, maybe I’d better come shopping with you.”
“Thank you. We appreciate it. Don’t we, Lia?”
“Yes,” Lia said, glancing in Kevin’s direction. “Thank you.”
He looked up from his monitor then, and offered her a half a smile. “You’re welcome.”
“Are we there yet?” Blake sat up, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of a hand and unbuckling his seatbelt.
“Another hour or so, Mr. Morgan.”
Their flight attendant, who had previously been so unobtrusive as to be rendered practically invisible, seemed to materialize out of thin air just as Blake stood.
“May I get you a beverage? Any of you?” She looked around the cabin but it was clear the only person whose thirst she was interested in quenching was Blake’s.
“Do you have San P.?” Nicki asked. “But one of the flavored ones?”
“I believe we do, Ms. Morgan. And you, Miss Hill? Mr. Taylor?”
Impressive. She’d remembered the names. But Lia supposed that was all part of the five-star lifestyle—having help that made you feel like there was nothing more important than taking care of your needs.
“I’ll take what she’s having,” Lia said.
“Mr. Taylor?”
“A Corona, with lime if you have it.”
“Yeah, gimme one of those too,” Blake said making his way toward the bathrooms.
Lia looked over at Kevin again, now once again focused on his computer. She could have used a beer herself, but had no idea what sophisticated drinks everyone else might order, so thought it wise to stick to whatever Nicki had. She hated San Pellegrino, and now was stuck with it when she could have had a good old Corona like the “boys.”
“We spend seven nights on the island,” Nicki said, continuing her briefing. “Tonight in Miami and the last night before we fly back. When we’re on the mainland we’re pretty much free, but on the island, it’s family-time all the time. We eat every meal together, and in the late mornings and afternoon there’s usually a choice of group activities, team sports, hiking. And then we go back to our cabanas to rest before dinner. Every night there’s a different theme. Nothing too intense, but it might be Hawaiian night and we have leis, stuff like that. You and I will share a cabana, and for the rest of the time, you can hang with Blake and the rest of the family. It’ll be totally fine; no one expects you to be stuck to his rib or anything.”
“But I do have to act like I’m his girlfriend, right? Otherwise …”
“I’m a touchy-feely guy,” Blake said. He had just emerged from the bathroom, still drying his hands on a paper towel which he wadded up and tossed in one of the cleverly concealed trash receptacles. “I’ll take care of all the PDA, don’t worry.” He winked at her. “A couple butt-gropes, some hand-holding … it’ll be cool, I promise.”
This time Lia knew he was joking, so she smiled at him.
“One thing I do like to do though …” He extended a hand to her and Lia took it, using her free hand to unbuckle herself. “Is to dance. You dance, Lia?”
She allowed him to pull her into his arms in the center aisle and spin her like a ballroom dancer.
“I do,” she confirmed.
“But the question is, are you any good at it?” he asked, teasingly. He had a pleasant fresh scent, beneath which Lia thought she could detect the slightest odor of recent alcohol consumption. “Otherwise, I’ll need to get a different partner for the dance competition.”
“Dance competition?” Lia stopped mid-spin.
“The men in our family like to make everything into a competition,” Nicki said. “And I mean everything. So don’t become a pawn for their dysfunction, Lia.”
“A pawn for our dysfunction.” Blake laughed and released Lia’s hand, allowing her to take a seat again. “My sister is so melodramatic.”
Lia laughed, thinking of Stephanie and her unfounded worries about this trip.
“I’ve known worse,” she said.
The flight attendant returned with a tray of drinks and everyone settled into their seats again, all of them lost in their own thoughts. Lia stared out the window at the clouds and then out of the corner of her eyes at Kevin who was still working. The last time she had flown was almost two years ago when she was coming back east after a misguided attempt to relocate to California with a boyfriend. Neither the move nor the boyfriend had worked out and she returned to DC with her tail between her legs, and having set herself back eighteen months on her quest to begin to live the life of a responsible adult.
But hopefully, the money she made from this little jaunt would begin to get her squared away again. She would pay off some credit card debt, move to a real apartment that had hot water whenever she needed it, was warm in the winter and cool in the summer. It would be a place where she didn’t have to worry about windows that stuck, loud drunks out in the street at three a.m. and uncollected piles of trash at the end of the block each week.
The captain’s voice filled the silence, letting them know th
at they had begun their initial descent, and would be on the ground in about thirty-five minutes. Across from Lia, Blake had begun to tap his right knee in an erratic rhythm, his leg jumping up and down. He seemed ill at ease.
“So, what’s the plan for tonight?” he asked. “Cuba Libre?”
“No,” Nicki said, speaking slowly. “Sleep. That’s the plan. Tomorrow Lia and I have a little shopping to do, then we’re due at the house for lunch and then we leave for the island. Nobody has time to be all hung over with you, Blake.”
“Why I gotta be hung over?” he asked, a pained expression on his face. “I’m just talking about a nice dinner, a few drinks, some dancing. You into that, Lia?” He looked at her.
Not wanting to take the side of either sibling, Lia glanced in Kevin’s direction, hoping he would give her a cue as to which would be the right answer.
“Don’t look at him,” Blake said, shaking his head. “He ain’t into … fun.”
Kevin looked up and raised an eyebrow at Blake. “Since when have the family reunions been about fun?”
“That’s why we should go out tonight,” Blake said.
“Don’t listen to them,” Nicki said looking at Lia. “I happen to think the family reunions are lots of fun. It’s just about the only time the Morgan family can get together without it being about business, or without outsiders judging us, or taking pictures of Blake and my parents …” Nicki broke off and shrugged. “I have fun.”
“How ‘bout we go to Cuba Libre for dinner and then decide after that whether we want to go over to the club side?” Kevin suggested.
“The Great Mediator speaks,” Blake said nodding. “I can live with that.”
Nicki shrugged again. “Sure. But you’re a bunch of heathens. It’s Sunday.”
Lia was relieved that she wasn’t going to have to be the tie-breaker, but more than that, she liked that going to the nightclub seemed to be an all-for-one-one-for-all proposition when Blake could just as easily have said that whether Kevin and Nicki wanted to accompany him, he was planning to go. The closeness among the trio reminded her of her relationship with Steph. She wondered how Kevin Taylor fit into the Morgan equation and recalled his reaction when she had referred to him as Blake’s assistant. But if he wasn’t that, then what and who was he to the Morgan clan? He didn’t act like someone who was just “the help” and neither did Nicki and Blake treat him that way. In fact, it was almost as though they deferred to him.
Lia looked up at Kevin Taylor again, just as the plane dipped, making its way toward the ground, and what Lia felt in her bones was going to be an incredible adventure.
~4~
South Beach, FL Sunday, 9:43 p.m.
The dress was Nicki’s. Kevin knew because he had seen her wear it many times before. It looked completely different on Lia though. While Nicki was long and lean, lithe and as a prima ballerina, Lia was curvier, womanlier. And despite being about four inches shorter than the dress’ rightful owner, she was wearing the hell out of that yellow floral halter. Her skin was the color of milk chocolate, creamy and smooth, and her short hair accentuated the slender column of her neck. She didn’t wear a lot of makeup, but what she did wear was perfect to highlight her best features—the full Clara Bow lips were stained a vivid red, and the feline eyes lined dark, and smudged with a coal-like effect.
When she and Nicki came casually striding out of their bedrooms to join him and Blake in the living room, Kevin had to contain his appreciation for how incredible she looked. Blake on the other hand stood and in true Blake-like fashion had nodded his appreciation and grinned at Lia.
“Wow,” he said. “My girl cleans up nice.”
Kevin knew it was stupid, and that Blake was only joking around but he felt a tiny pang of something like envy at Blake referring to Lia as his girl.
And then all the talk was of how they would get to the restaurant, whether to take an Uber or get the condo’s concierge to call them a car, until Blake recalled that his Land Rover was still in the underground parking garage rather than at the house. Kevin had trailed Blake and Lia out of the condominium and at his side he heard Nicki issue a snort, probably reading on his face all that he was trying desperately to conceal. He watched Lia’s gently swaying walk as Blake led her to the elevators that would take them to the garage. She walked on the balls of her feet, like she was avoiding putting her weight on the thin spike heels of her sandals.
“I loaned her that dress,” Nicki said under her breath. “And the shoes too. It’s going to be fun shopping for her. She’s the kind of woman who looks good in anything, don’t you think?”
Kevin grunted noncommittally though he agreed.
Lia didn’t look like a model in the traditional sense, but she was effortlessly pretty, and what people in the fashion industry called ‘fresh-faced’. When Nicki modeled for two brief years back in the day was when Kevin had been bitten by the photography bug. The old man had required Kevin to tag along with her on all her bookings to watch over her and make sure nothing untoward happened with the photographers, and that no one offered her drugs, or plied her with alcohol.
Just fresh out of the University of Miami, Kevin had been floundering over his decision about whether to go straight to grad school, and so a summer of photo shoots on the beach seemed like as good a way to pass the time as any. After a few of Nicki’s sessions, he grew interested, and later fascinated with the process of setting up and taking shots, at the manipulation of light and shadow to produce something more beautiful than one could see with the naked eye. Even today he couldn’t say he’d been cured of the bug, but as the old man said, ‘there comes a time when you have to put childish things aside.’
When they found the Land Rover, it was after almost twenty minutes searching since it had been several weeks since Blake parked the darn thing. Nicki and Lia chose to sit together in the backseat, both of them chirping and giggling, already gossiping like old friends about people they didn’t know on some show Kevin had never heard of. Nicki getting along with Lia wasn’t that much of a surprise. Nicki got along with everyone, but didn’t have too many friends, which was a shame.
Growing up in the shadow of the Morgan name hadn’t been an easy path for Nicki. A few boyfriends had turned out to be nothing more than opportunists out to get close to her father; and a few of her girlfriends turned out to be more interested in a relationship with Blake than a friendship with Nicki. And so even now that she was grown up, she spent her time trailing through an endless series of independent bookstores, collecting ancient copies of books she liked and reading the manuscripts of the authors she handled as a junior editor at her job. She was too often alone. And so it was cool, listening to her laughing and talking with another woman. Kevin felt himself warm to Lia Hill a little more which each laugh of Nicki’s that drifted from the backseat.
“Is this whole thing crazy, man?”
Blake asked the question out of nowhere, keeping his voice low so that the girls couldn’t hear it over their own loud conversation.
“What whole thing?”
Blake inclined his head slightly, indicating the rear of the vehicle.
“Yeah, it is crazy. But I told you that long before we did it.”
Blake exhaled a long, heavy breath. “I just didn’t know what else to do.”
“How about you tell him the truth?”
Blake shot him a look as though the very suggestion was ridiculous.
“You could give it a shot.” Kevin said quietly. “You never know.”
“I think we do know,” Blake said.
And the rest of the ride was punctuated only by the animated chatter of the women in the backseat.
They had a table at Cuba Libre. It was unofficially the Morgan Family Table, where they were seated whenever any of the clan happened to show up at the restaurant. Kevin sometimes made silent wagers—especially on nights like this when he, Nicki and Blake arrived unannounced—that they would be shown to some other place in the establishment. But it
had never happened, and so he had begun to wonder whether it was kept vacant, just on the off-chance that Edward and Jessica Morgan, or one of their children might show up in need of a meal.
Tonight was no different, and as soon as Blake led them all to the hostess’ podium, they were whisked away to the table that overlooked the beach below, and beyond that, the bay. The restaurant was almost deserted, and conversation was muted. Most of the sounds were of cutlery on plates, the clink of glasses, and the distant sounds of kitchen and wait-staff, busy getting meals out to the tables.
Kevin liked Cuba Libre, but didn’t often have the chance to visit any longer. He had moved to Washington DC to fill in the gaps that Blake left behind, working with the company’s lobbyists and advisors, tending to their lucrative government contracts. He missed the pace of life in Miami, but appreciated the way the distance from the Morgan home-base allowed him to create a life and identity separate from Blake’s larger-than-life persona.
When their server brought them menus, Blake waved them away.
“Tell Fernando it’s me,” Blake said. “And that we’re four tonight. He’ll whip us up something good.”
The young woman held the menus to her chest and shifted her weight from one leg to another, looking perplexed and a little embarrassed.
“I’m sorry, sir,” she said, shaking her head, her face growing a little pink. “I … I don’t … I don’t know who you are.”
Kevin waited through the lull that fell over the table. Looking at Blake, he pursed his lips, smothering a smile.
“Wow,” Blake said after a few beats. “Can’t say that’s ever happened before. I’m Blake Morgan. You can tell Fernando that Blake said send out whatever he wants, we’re game.”
“Absolutely. I’ll let him know.” The server scurried off, looking relieved to be gone.
The poor girl was probably wondering whether she’d committed some inexcusable faux pas.
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