by Kate Aster
No. It’s not you. It’s not even us.
But I can’t say it.
“Look, Stella won’t be staying with me until she’s ready for college. Even though it feels like she might on some days,” he adds with a pensive chuckle. “Let’s just go back to the way things were and see where things lead after she’s gone.”
No, dammit. That’s not what I want. I want to forget the past. I want to make my present something actually worth living for a change. “Cam, I—”
“Besides, from the sound of it, you’ll probably have a full-time job at the Queen K soon. And I can fire you officially,” he adds with a cheeky grin, taking a single finger and drawing a light line up my neck till he curves it under my chin. “Though I’m tempted to just fire you for the night and hire you back tomorrow morning.”
“I’d be open to that.” Feeling my head return to my shoulders now that we’re out of that car, I even feel a smile sneak up the sides of my mouth. It feels good, like I’m just being tugged out of a bad dream into a more promising reality again.
“No.” He gives his head a single shake. “When I claim you for the first time, I don’t want you to have any kind of regret, Annie.”
He opens my door, and gives me a chaste kiss on the cheek, so achingly sweet.
“Thanks for coming with Stella and me tonight.”
“Thanks for having me. And thanks for…” My voice trails. Thanks for understanding? But he doesn’t understand. “… for letting me keep things professional,” I finish, remembering my Rule #1 that Sam texted me.
Professional. I’m feeling the furthest thing from professional as he responds with a nod and walks away from me.
Shutting my door, I slide down the interior of it and muffle my sobs until I know he’s out of my building. I hurt again inside, all over, just like I did in his car. It’s an ache that I can’t point to, one that comes from my very soul, filled with regret and anger and the kind of hate that makes people do stupid, irrational things.
The kind of hate that I promised I wouldn’t let touch me on this island.
I dig into my purse and call Sam.
Please pick up. Please pick up.
“Hey! I figured there was a seventy percent chance you’d be having wild monkey sex right now,” she answers.
And then the sobs pour from me as I tell her what happened. The perfect evening, the perfect man, and the perfect crash-and-burn after my night is shot down by a memory that won’t shake loose from my soul.
“Oh, crap, hon,” she breathes into the phone. “Cars are probably not the best place for you to kiss a guy, I guess.”
“Thanks for telling me that now,” I groan, wiping my nose on my arm and wishing this damn sundress had sleeves. I’m too tired to lift myself off the floor and get a proper tissue. “Sam, I don’t know what happened. It was like for an instant, I just flashed back and everything spiraled downward after that. And then he just assumed it was because I was uncomfortable being with him. You know, because he’s kind of my boss.”
“Are you? Uncomfortable, that is?”
“I guess. Maybe I wouldn’t have flashed back like that if he wasn’t. It was bugging me all night.”
“Thanks to my stupid texts. Dammit, Annie, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have sent those.”
“Hey—I told you to.”
“Yeah, but I should have ignored you.”
“Look, all those reasons were still rattling around in my brain. I just wish I’d thought of them on the beach the other night and it wouldn’t have turned into a freaking panic attack in his car.” I stretch out my legs on the floor. “I’m a cock tease.”
“No, you’re not. You’re someone who’s had a bad experience with a boss before.”
“A bad experience. Is that what we’re calling it now?”
“Okay, a catastrophe.”
“Much better.”
“Maybe if you told Cam what happened, he’d believe you.”
“The whole fucking world doesn’t believe me, Sam.”
“I believe you. Anyone who knows you well would believe you.”
“But that’s just it, Sam. No one really knows me here. No one. It’s no wonder I’m so attracted to Cam. Maybe I’m just longing to feel close to—someone.”
“Uh, from that photo you sent me of him and Stella, I’m thinking that’s not the only reason you’re attracted to him. Besides, the guy took in a kid he barely knows. Hell, I’m practically in love with him and I’ve never even met him. What you’re feeling is natural.”
“Natural? Mr. Perfect just kissed me in his car and I fell apart.”
“Look, I know you’re not going to want to hear this, but you should tell him the truth.”
I want to agree with her. I want to believe that he’d side with me—that he’d believe me. But then I remember watching the press conference from Sam’s sofa and questioning reality myself. And I was there. I knew the truth. “I can’t risk it. I’m not ready, Sam.”
There’s silence on the other end.
I know she disagrees.
“Okay,” Sam finally answers. “So hold off till you feel more comfortable. But in the meantime, just put yourself out of your misery and fuck the guy. You need to get this out of your system. I mean, be careful, watch your heart, use a condom, and all that crap I’m supposed to say as your best friend. But you’ve been living in the desert long enough. And for God’s sake, seriously consider talking to someone,” she tosses in. “You need friends, Arianna.”
The name almost hurts me, hearing her say it, reminding me that I’m a different person with her than with anyone on this island.
“Look, if the shit hits the fan—and you know it might—you’re going to need people around you,” she continues. “People who know you. People who love you. And it’ll take me at least fifteen hours to fly out to you. So I need to know you’ve got back-up. You know what they say. No man is an island.”
“Yeah,” I mutter. “Even on an island, no man is an island.”
Chapter 15
- CAMDEN -
It’s just past 23 hundred hours, and I’m thumping the top of Annie’s car as I send her away, my routine, just as I have for any other night she’s babysat.
Pretending nothing happened between us last night.
I’m not very good at it, I decide.
My brain feels like it’s caught in a loop, constantly reliving that moment when I could feel her in my arms, feel her lips against mine, and know with certainty that I’d soon have her.
And then it was as if someone had flicked on a switch in her brain and everything fell apart.
Fear isn’t something a guy likes to see in a woman’s face when he’s holding her. Well, unless a guy’s thoroughly fucked up. But that was what I saw flash in Annie’s face—barely for an instant. Yet it was there, just the same.
Was it fear of losing her job babysitting Stella?
Fear of breaking that rule she’s made about dating her boss?
Fear of getting so close to me that she might be tempted to tell me why she dyes her hair and bought fake glasses?
My mind spins, as I watch her drive away from me. I’d hoped to have time to talk to her a little more tonight. But my brother walked in just after I arrived home from the Dancing Coconut. And there’s no having a decent conversation with her while he’s there. He’s still silently gloating about me having to sleep in my own bed last night.
Silently… until I walk in the door.
“You’re pathetic,” I hear from Fen when I step back into our condo. Having just come home from work, he’s still got his stupid polo shirt on, the one with the giant embroidered helicopter logo emblazoned across his left pec. He looks like a fucking billboard, yet he calls me pathetic?
“Thanks, man. I really appreciate the confidence boost.”
“I’m serious. Dodger and I are seriously thinking one of us should make a play for her. She’s gotta get it somewhere. Might as well be one of us.”
He’
s an easy target as I thrust him against the wall using my forearm, making a thud that might just be loud enough to wake Stella in the next room. With that reminder, I set him free immediately even though I’d love to wipe the floor with that damn smile he’s wearing right now.
I lift a single finger to his face. “Don’t you dare touch her.”
I’m careful to keep the profanity lodged inside my throat. Funny how having a kid in the house makes me think twice about… everything, actually.
“What’s with you, Cam? A girl like that—you should have had her in your bed three weeks ago when you first met her. I mean, you usually work pretty fast.”
“Annie isn’t cool with dating me while I’m paying her to take care of Stella.”
“Okay, so I get that. So move on. You look like a lovesick puppy, pouting around the house all the time. I mean when was the last time you got any? Probably three fucking weeks, right?” He mouths the profane part of his statement, as he glances toward Stella’s room.
My eyes turn to slits. “I’ve got Dodger telling me not to date her, and you’re telling me to date her?”
“Nah, Dodger agrees with me now. Just doesn’t want you to blow it with her and we’re out a babysitter. Don’t get me wrong. I like having Stella around. Seriously, every time I take her for shave ice, I practically have to beat the women off me. She’s a total babe magnet—have you noticed that?—”
He doesn’t give me time to answer.
“—but I’d still like to have a life. And I’m not playing babysitter while you’re at the bar.” He folds his arms in front of his chest. “It’s almost painful watching you two, you know.”
“How’s that?”
“I’ve never seen two people in such a desperate need for a fuck.” Again, he mouths the inappropriate word. As annoyed as I am right now, I have to marvel at my brother’s ability to adapt. I never would have foreseen this. Especially from Fen.
“Dodger and I keep saying we should just lock you two in your bedroom and take Stella out for the day. Just so you can get it over with and move on.”
I don’t like the words move on. Because I haven’t been waiting this long to be with her to be satisfied with a one-nighter. But I do like the idea of my brothers taking Stella out for the day.
And if they locked me in a room with Annie, I wouldn’t complain either.
My shoulders droop. “Look, we—I—things were progressing, but all of a sudden—I don’t know. She’s hiding something, I think.”
“Well, no kidding. Half the people on this island are,” he chuckles.
I start to retreat to my room. There’s really no talking to Fen about anything.
“Probably for the best not to push it, Cam,” he calls out after me. “The last thing you need is having your name linked up to some MeToo hashtag.”
It makes me stop short of the staircase. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you are her employer. You don’t want her feeling like she’s got to put out just to keep the money coming in.”
I send him a glare. “Lancaster’s her employer, dammit.” That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
When I retreat to my room, my phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out, expecting it to be Annie’s usual text, telling me she’s home safe in Kona. My eyebrows rise when I see it’s from Lancaster.
“U there?”
He’s in the middle of a desert right now, thousands of miles away. Still, it’s not that unusual to hear from him, often asking for more photos of Stella on her latest island adventures and trying to schedule a little time on Skype with her.
“Yep. How’s it going?” I tap in.
“R U still using that babysitter? The one in the photo u sent me a couple weeks ago?”
My head tilts. “Annie. Yeah. Y?”
There’s a long pause in between our texts, enough time for me to do something—brush my teeth or strip off my shirt. Crawl into bed. Something. Yet all I can do is sit frozen on the edge of the bed because I know something’s up. When Lancaster texts, it usually starts with the words “How’s Stella?” Not “R U still using that babysitter?”
His reply finally comes in. “Tell me she doesn’t look just like this chick.”
What chick? I wonder it only a moment until a link comes through from CNN’s website. I click on it.
And I see Annie.
Chapter 16
~ ANNIE ~
“You don’t have to escort me from the premises.”
Words I never thought I’d have to say in life.
Yet here I am, being escorted from the Queen K, as if I was a convicted criminal.
“Standard protocol,” the security officer tells me, his face devoid of expression, until a trace of sympathy shines through. “Sorry.”
I don’t know him. I haven’t worked here long enough to get to know many people outside of Kaila in keiki care.
I wish I had made friends here, just like Sam told me I should. Maybe then they’d know I was innocent in all this.
But reality is a bear sometimes. It can tug you along, letting you think that the day is about to become phenomenal, and then bitch-slap you.
That was the last hour of my life, when a call had come into keiki care asking me to come to the Human Resources office before I left for the day.
Their words had my heart tap-dancing behind my rib cage.
They were going to offer me a full-time position. I could feel it in my bones. Kaila had rattled HR’s cages plenty; she said it was only a matter of time.
I’d have a regular paycheck. I’d be able to drop babysitting on the side. I could take care of Stella for free because that’s what friends do.
And I could sleep with Cam. No guilt. No worry. No panic. No what-ifs lingering in the back of my mind.
That would be my first stop after work. I knew it. I’d be getting off at noon today— plenty of time to have my way with that man before Stella needed to be picked up at preschool.
But reality had something else in store for me today.
Human Resources knows.
With no idea it would be the last time I’d wear my uniform, I changed in the locker room and turned it in for cleaning, just like I always do.
Even when I showed up at HR, I was clueless that some resort guest had recognized me and complained.
Of course, as HR explained to me, they couldn’t have their female guests thinking that someone in keiki care was going to seduce their husbands, so they fired me on the grounds that I’d lied on my application by not including my most recent employer on the form.
I will not cry. Despite the burning behind my eyes, I will not let a tear fall until I’m alone. Clinging to my dignity, I spare a few sideward glances at the employees as we pass them.
Do they know, too?
As I’m escorted out of the resort, I feel like everyone is looking at me differently. HR said that everything is kept confidential, but after living in Washington, D.C., for a few years, I’ve caught on that there’s no such thing.
I should have denied it. Five minutes ago with HR… and two months ago when I was still on the mainland. But I’d tried that. Dammit, I’d tried that and no one believed me.
I’d said no that night.
I’d said no when Senator Petronel drove off onto a side street after his wife had suggested he drive me to my night class since they had been so late in coming home from dinner out.
I’d said no, and I’d fought him until I could get out of the car.
That night, I’d quit my live-in nanny job, packed my bags, and slept on Sam’s couch for the nights that followed. That was one small blessing, because it meant I wasn’t alone when the photo made headlines. A single photo capturing his mouth on mine, his hand on my breast. Even I’d admit, it looked pretty damning.
I barely had time to deny it—when he called a press conference, confessing to having an affair with his nanny. He actually had tears when he said it all—how he’d disappointed his wife, his children, his pa
rty, and himself. How it struck against the core of who he really was and what he believed. How he’d work even harder to win back the public’s favor, and never be a stronger advocate for the principles he was taught by his father and grandfather before him.
I practically have his entire speech burned into my brain. A beautiful, poignant speech that was probably written by someone on his staff who might have actually had the morals he dared speak of.
Sitting there with Sam on her couch that night—because all good confessions are made during prime time TV viewing hours—I was as baffled by it all as I am today.
And I knew then what I know now. No one would ever believe me. A senator—a future White House contender like Senator Petronel—doesn’t confess to an affair unless he actually had it. Especially when it meant the end of his marriage and the probable loss of half his money to his wife, despite the pre-nup that CNN got their hands on weeks later.
No. In the court of public opinion, Arianna Bradshaw was guilty. And as I listened to the fake quiver in his voice as he proclaimed the error of his ways to his constituency, I saw my career path—my life—burn up in flames in front of me.
There would be no job as a teacher’s assistant at the prestigious private school where I’d dreamed of working. Despite two interviews where they’d all but offered me the position, I received their email turning me down the day after the headline hit. Who could blame them?
There would be no plans to get my master’s in education. I could never afford it working the kind of job that a girl with an early childhood education degree gets after she has a scarlet letter emblazoned on her chest.
And apparently, there wouldn’t even be a place for me at keiki care here on the Big Island making scarcely more than minimum wage.
“Don’t let them get to you.” The security officer’s voice draws me out of a memory.
“What?”
“Them.” He tosses his chin in the direction of the behemoth resort as we arrive at my car. “The people who built this eyesore. They steal our land. The big money moves in and housing prices skyrocket. Then they pay us crap wages. My wife stays home with our keiki because any job she could get wouldn’t cover the cost for child care here.”