Kiss: Sea Crest High Book Two

by Carrie Banks

  “Good. I miss you. I’ll be there tomorrow night, just one more night, Tessa. You better get some sleep because I am going to keep you up all night long.”

  I throw my sheet off, moving restlessly on my bed. My room’s freezing, and I’m burning up in my tank and boy short pajamas just thinking about him.

  “What time will you get here?”

  “Late, since I left the New York office early to see you on Monday. I can’t take off before five.”

  “I’m sorry, but I’m glad you did.”

  “I know. But I don’t have the luxury of doing it again. My internship review is next month, and I’m expecting a decent one. I can’t jeopardize that since it gets reported to HSB.”

  “I understand. I’m sorry, Ry.”

  “Don’t worry, baby doll, I’m good. But I can’t take off early for the rest of the summer. I’ll text you when I arrive in the Hill’s Head, meet me there.”

  “Alright, but I still feel weird about it. Is Barron’s dad going to be there?”

  “Don’t worry about Charles. He’s been seeing someone for a while and he’s never around on much the weekends. When he’s in town he’s at the SYC or out golfing. How do you think Barron’s gotten away with so much?”

  “Umm, okay, I’ll see you then. Love—I mean, goodnight.” I stammer, smacking myself on the forehead.

  “Goodnight baby doll,” he says, softly disconnecting.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  TESSA

  Pivoting in my heels, looking at my reflection in the mirror, I check for any flaws. The peplum dress flatters my figure. My hair’s plaited in a fishtail over one shoulder. I snuck into Mom’s room earlier to borrow her pearl drop earrings and matching necklace and I feel as ready as I’ll ever be for the formal dinner at the Hill’s Head house.

  We spent the day on the Majesty, cruising out on the Sound. Then Barron and Ryan took us out on jet skis.

  I couldn’t believe it when Barron had his crew attach a slide off the port side bow. We spent hours going down, landing in the water and swimming to the launch off the stern. It was a blast until Ryan mentioned a shark was sighted a few weeks back. Gabby started shrieking and announced she was never going back in.

  Luxury yachting is something else.

  I grab my gold-sequined clutch, hoping to finally get out of the house unnoticed. I lied to my parents last night and told them I was going to Gabby’s for an old-fashioned slumber party.

  I open my door and tiptoe down the stairs, easing the screen door open trying to lessen the sound of squeaking hinges. It’s almost become a game at this point.

  Will they or won’t they catch me leaving?

  “Tessa? Where are you going so dressed up?” My dad asks as he sprays the plants in the front bed with the hose.

  “Gabby invited me to a work dinner.”

  “On a Saturday night? Uh-huh, nice try,” my mom says, poking her head up. She was weeding and was hidden by the hedge.

  I sigh, no point delaying the inevitable. “Well, it’s kind of a double date.”

  “Now, we’re getting somewhere. Keep talking.”

  “Well, Gabby’s dating Barron Foster and I met someone through him.”

  “Gabby and Barron Foster! The Barron Foster? My daughter’s best friend is dating the most eligible bachelor on the East Coast, and you didn’t tell me? Quick, Hal, I need some ice water before I faint!”

  She takes off her gardening hat and starts fanning her face. “I think I’m getting heart palpitations. Hal, get me an aspirin, hurry!”

  “And this is exactly why I haven’t told you. My God—Mom, you’re so embarrassing!”

  “Now that’s a pair,” she nods in approval. “I can just see it now—their wedding will be the toast of the town. Gabby, the girl from Hemlock Hill, snagging Barron Foster! Hal—go back in and get me the cordless—I need to call Pat. She’s going to die!”

  My poor dad hands her the ice water and pill then trots back toward the house.

  “No! Barron and Gabby haven’t even told Charles yet. Can you please not gossip about my friends?”

  “What’s the young man’s name you’re going out with?” Dad asks, stopping and turning around.

  “Thanks for asking. At least someone cares about who I’m dating. His name is Ryan Stone.”

  “Hold on. I need to Google him,” my mom says whipping off her gardening gloves, “Hal!” she shouts, “Forget the cordless, is the computer turned on?”

  “Mom, please. Don’t do that.”

  “As if you haven’t.”

  “No, I haven’t. What’s there to find? I already know the basics.”

  She waves her hand dismissing me and walks inside leaving me alone with my dad, in an incredibly awkward moment. We’re close, but I’ve never discussed dating or boys with him, ever.

  “The garden looks great. I’ve never seen the yard look so good.”

  “Um hmm,” he says gruffly.

  Apparently, he feels just as weird. Mom briskly walks back out, letting the door bang behind her.

  “Tessa! That boy is a looker.” She says, fanning herself with her sun hat, again.

  “Thanks, I’m leaving now.”

  “Are you wearing my pearls? The ones your father gave me for our twentieth anniversary? That cost him four paychecks!”

  I freeze, shit, she doesn’t miss a thing.

  “Never mind, just don’t lose them and ask first next time! Where are you going again?”

  “I’ll be at the Fosters’ Hill’s Head House having dinner with Mr. Foster. Barron is planning on telling him that he and Gabby are a couple. Did you get it all…need a notepad? They want to make sure Charles is okay with it.”

  “She’s such a bright girl. Mr. Foster should be very pleased.”

  “We all hope so. I’ve got to go. I don’t want to be late.”

  “Did you already sneak an overnight bag in your car, for another impromptu girl’s sleepover?”

  “Yep.” I answer quickly, darting to my car.

  “Are you being safe? I can get more condoms from the hospital,” she calls out.

  She’s so loud—I’m sure the entire neighborhood heard.

  “Oh my God! Mom, I’m leaving.”

  “Text me, Tessa. I mean it or I’ll beat down Barron Foster’s door!”

  I wave acknowledging her request and drive out into the twilight.

  ***

  The Hill’s Head house is everything I’d thought it would be. The structure is a classic colonial, but the interior blows me away. In the front entryway, a curved staircase descends to a black-and-white-checked marble floor. A metal knight with a shield stands guard in the corner and potted palm trees scatter around the edges of the grand entrance.

  “It’s the Foster family crest,” Ryan tells me, pointing to the shield designed with two lions and a few slash lines painted on the knight’s chest.

  “Wow,” I mumble as he takes my hand and leads me through the hall to the kitchen. It’s all stainless-steel appliances with white marble counter tops. They stand out against gleaming espresso hardwood floors. When the inn was updated last year, I attended some of the design meetings. Otherwise, I would have no idea what I’m looking at.

  The kitchen is a vast open space that leads to a solarium, equipped with a bar and billiard table. Ryan offers to make me a drink. Drawn to the view, I walk to the large windows stopping just short so my nose can’t mar the perfect glass. Beyond the glass Her Majesty sits on the water, all the world her throne.

  I’m not the one facing a test tonight, but I’m nervous for Gabby. Having Mr. Foster’s blessing is something she wants very badly. Beyond her aura of confidence, deep down is still the girl who feels inferior. “Where are Barron and Gabby?”

  “They’ll be down in a minute. Barron wanted to have a moment alone to prep for dinner. Charles should be here any minute, he was working on a contract for the San Francisco Yacht Club—they’re on Pacific Time. Listen, Charles Foster is a shrewd man. He�
�ll size you up in two seconds and draw his own conclusion. I’ll shield you the best I can. Even though Gabby’s the one on display tonight, I’m a bit on edge. Barron’s been trying very hard to please his dad. He screwed up last year, I can’t get into the details now before dinner—”

  “I know all about it, Ry. JD heard some things at SYC.”

  “Well, there’s a lot more to it that’s not public information.”

  I raise my eyebrows, but before I can ask him to elaborate Gabby and Barron make their entrance.

  Barron crosses over and kisses me on both cheeks, “Thank you for coming. You look stunning.”

  “Thanks for having me. I hope tonight goes well for you both.” I reply with a smile.

  “I’m a little nervous. I’ve never introduced a woman to Charles as my girlfriend before,” he confides.

  “What? You never dated in high school?”

  “Relationships have never been my thing,” he says with a small shrug, “guess I just needed someone like you, Gabby.”

  He turns giving her a quick peck and her entire body glows with happiness.

  “I can’t believe you refer to your father as Charles,” I tell him.

  “You’ll understand why I refer to him as Charles…just wait five minutes.”

  As if hearing his name, Charles Foster walks in. All of us straighten like students walking into the principal’s office.

  He’s tall and stately, maintaining a strong, formidable build for a man in his late fifties. His salt and pepper hair is brushed stylishly, and his bright blue eyes briefly assess each one of us.

  He has a navy-blue sports coat on over an open collar, pressed white shirt and khaki dress pants with expensive loafers on his feet.

  “Good evening, sir.” Barron glances nervously at his father.

  I glance sideways at Ryan and utter, “Sir?”

  He elbows me quickly, and I take the hint to shut up.

  Mr. Foster says nothing, but just walks past us all to a side table. He pours an amber colored liquid drink from a crystal decanter into a lowball glass.

  Looking across at Barron, I finally see vulnerability in his eyes, instead of the cool indifference he usually displays.

  “Shall we go to dinner?” Mr. Foster says, not even acknowledging me or Gabby.

  Ryan was the only person Charles graced with a quick nod. With no choice but to follow him, we enter the formal dining room.

  The only sound in this silent stone house, is the clicking of my stiletto heels gently tapping on the polished floors.

  Gasping softly, I admire the elegance before us. Three hurricane lamps line the middle of the oval cherry table, their lit flames reflected in the glass lanterns. Fresh white lilies spring from cut crystal vases, their petals matching the white china laid out.

  Paintings of regal schooners hang on the walls above the white-painted wainscoting. Standing at the back of the room is Jen, dressed in black pants and a white blouse, holding a pitcher of ice water. I move to sit down but Ryan grabs my elbow and shakes his head. He hisses, “Wait for Charles to sit first.”

  This is so uncomfortable. What the hell did I let myself get dragged into? I hate this damn house. Charles finally sits and Ryan pulls my seat out indicating it’s acceptable for me to sit.

  Mr. Foster leans back and stares at us one by one, making his way around the table. We’re all frozen not even touching our drinks as he appraises us.

  “And you are?” he asks me gruffly.

  “This is Tessa, my date,” Ryan informs him.

  Charles doesn’t respond. His eyes cut over to Gabby.

  “I’m surprised to see you here. You never mentioned that you would be dining at my home tonight” he says, pinning her to the seat with his hard gaze.

  “Gabby’s my guest.” Barron responds putting his hand on top of hers.

  I suck in my breath as Charles takes in this move. I’m fascinated at the father and son chess match and start to build a picture in my mind of how Barron grew up alone in this stark house.

  No wonder, Ryan tries to spend every weekend with him.

  “Which one of you has the guts to tell me what the hell’s going on? What mayhem did Barron get into now?” Charles asks knocking back his drink, downing it all.

  “May I speak freely sir?” Gabby asks.

  “The floor is yours, Ms. Rivera.” He says with a wink, “relax, everyone, it’s been a long day, have a drink or two. Come on, lay it on me. I’ll be fine as long as Barron didn’t get anyone pregnant or find a girl overdosed on the yacht.”

  I giggle nervously and take a sip of my sparkly water.

  “I respect you very much, Charles. In the short time, I’ve been at your company—I’ve fallen in love with the yachting industry. In fact, working for you has inspired me to get an MBA one day…,” she stops to take a breath looking nervously at him. He gestures with his hand for her to continue and get to her point.

  “Here’s the thing, Charles—Barron and I are together.” She boldly states in signature Gabby Rivera style.

  Charles throws down his napkin in disgust. “Barron, you needed this set up just to tell me that? Haven’t you got any balls, boy? Dragging Ryan and his date here to hold your hand? Man up already. You’re going off to Harvard, Charles scoffs.

  “Sir—” Barron starts, but he can’t get a word in.

  “It was my idea, Charles,” Gabby stands from the table pointing a finger at her own chest, “out of respect for you, I wanted to be the one to make sure it was alright. I can’t have you speaking to my man that way and I need you to apologize.”

  She crosses her arms and taps her foot. I hope she doesn’t get fired. Gabby Rivera just stood her ground against the most formidable man I’ve ever met.

  “Bravo. Ms. Rivera… Bravo! When you first came in for an interview, I saw something special in you. I’m right—always am. You’ve got some grit. You’re a real go-getter, the best hire my firm has had in a long time.”

  We all let out the collective breath we were holding.

  Charles slumps in his seat and moves a few fingers through his hair sighing, “My apologies, to both Gabby and Tessa. It’s been a long week and I didn’t anticipate having to go into the office today. Then my girlfriend, Elizabeth, cancelled on me this weekend and I’m used to the random girls the two of you always have around the house.”

  He points to Barron and Ryan. “I’m sorry for being rude, Gabby. I thoroughly appreciate you wanting to be transparent regarding this. I wouldn’t expect any less from you. We’re a small company with fewer than forty people, without a formal human resource department. If the both of you can assure me to keep things professional at the office, I don’t have an issue. But things can’t get messy, especially when this doesn’t work out.”

  “Excuse me?” Gabby asks.

  “Barron has hardly set any precedents with having a successful relationship. You are a smart girl, Gabby. I hope your eyes are wide open regarding his past indiscretions.”

  Barron’s eyes are stormy, he clenches the fork in his hand so tight, the veins pop out on his forearm. “Father I assure you; I have the utmost respect for Gabby.”

  Jen returns to clear our plates and deliver the main course. The conversation is dropped, and the rest of the dinner is awkward, but talk of the upcoming regatta at the Sea Crest Yacht Club makes it go by faster.

  Every summer the club sponsors a race from, Rhode Island, down to Sea Crest Lighthouse, and then out in the Long Island Sound.

  JD always talked about it being the highlight of the year for SYC and its main event. I’ve always wanted to go, but you must be a member of the club to attend the white tent after-party under the stars.

  JD.

  All this talk of SYC and my mind instantly thinks of him. Neither one of us has broken the silence between us. The conversation drifts by me as they discuss the advantages of Foster’s new sail design and fabric in different wind conditions.

  “Shall we head out to the patio for aft
er dinner drinks?”

  I come back to the present as Mr. Foster stands, effectively ending the meal.

  Ryan escorts me outside to a courtyard off the solarium. In the middle of the flagstone patio is a square table carved from black granite with a fire burning in the center. The perimeter is made from glass and I set my water down on it. Standing at the stone wall, I look out into the ocean.

  “Are you cold, baby?”

  “No Ryan. I’m perfect.”

  I can’t wait to be in his arms later.

  “I know what you’re thinking. Don’t tempt me. We have all night.”

  I can’t help it. Remembering, what we were like together. I want him now. I don’t want to wait. But Jen comes out holding a tray of drinks and we can’t leave yet. She serves Gabby first handing her a crystal cordial glass, then walks around giving me one.

  “What’s this?” I ask her quietly taking a seat.

  “Dessert wine. It’s from Portugal. They make the best,” she says with a wink. She crosses back around the fire to serve Mr. Foster a low ball with a dark colored liquid before serving Barron and Ryan.

  “What are you drinking?” I ask him when he sits in the chair next to mine.

  “Cognac.”

  “Is that a whiskey?”

  Ryan stares at me for a few seconds then lowers his drink, “It’s a brandy Tessa. Cognac is an after-dinner drink most men enjoy.

  “Oh.”

  “My parents don’t drink much, and we never attend fancy parties.”

  “It’s fine, babe.”

  But, for the first time—I feel like the girl from the wrong side of the river.

  Bowing my head, I smooth out the fabric of my dress across my thighs eliminating invisible wrinkles.

  “Hey,” Ryan says lifting my chin, “don’t worry sweetie. Barron has an incredible selection on the Majesty. I can give you a crash course from aperitifs to after-dinner drinks if you’d like.” I know your still in high school but it’s a cultured thing to be able to order drinks properly.

  “Thanks. That would be very helpful. I’ve never been exposed to this type of life. It’s strange—I’ve grown up here, driving by the yacht club… this neighborhood a million times but never truly entering this world. It’s like being on the other side of a looking glass. Don’t get me wrong—I’m happy with my life. I never felt like anything was missing, but now I just feel clueless.”