by Claire Adams
“Just like a luau, huh?” Gretchen asked a little while later, smiling next to me as we watched people begin grilling up tasty bites for dinner.
“Pretty much,” I said, grinning at her. “Looks like Mina's having a good day too, doesn't it?”
Gretchen looked over where I was pointed and gaped at her friend. I'd been watching them over the course of the past few hours, and Mina was unmistakably flirting, tossing back her hair every once in a while, and totally focusing all of her body language toward-
“Is that your brother?” Gretchen asked in surprise.
“Yup,” I said, grinning over at her. “He's not a billionaire like some of us, but he's a pretty good guy.”
Gretchen snorted and lightly hit my arm. But I could tell that she was pleased to see Mina looking happy. “Do you think that she's ever going to convince him to leave Boston and move down here?” she mused.
“Stranger things have happened,” I said, shrugging.
“That they have,” Gretchen said. She bit her lower lip. “So, I know that you're part of the business now, as a consultant if nothing more, but…”
“Are you asking me again whether I regret moving down here?” I asked, turning to face her. “Because I definitely, definitely don't. And you don't need to ask me that every month, you know!”
Gretchen sighed. “I love seeing you here with all my friends and everyone else. You look like you're having fun, but I don't want you to feel like I'm holding you back. I know managing a little massage parlor-slash-pineapple shop probably wasn't exactly what you had in mind for your life.”
“Gretchen,” I sighed, wondering how to make her see the truth. There was only one thing that I could say. “You know that I love you, don't you?”
Gretchen stared up at me in surprise. “You do?”
“Yeah, baby. I love you,” I told her firmly. “More than you could even know.”
She stared at me for another moment and then smiled broadly. “I love you too,” she said quietly, almost shyly, as though there were anything left for either of us to be shy about. She bit her lower lip and then laughed a little. “So, we aren't just fucking anymore?”
I snorted and shoved her, almost succeeding in toppling her onto the sand. “I'll show you a good fucking when we get back home if you're going to have a mouth like that,” I told her.
“You'd better,” she said, a challenge in her eyes. Then, her expression softened a little and she gave me an uncertain look. “You aren't sorry that you came here?” she asked, clearly needing to hear it one more time.
“I'm honestly not at all sorry about it,” I told her, punctuating the words with a filthy kiss, which she eagerly returned.
“Okay,” she said breathlessly as we broke apart. “Okay, I'm glad to hear that.”
Epilogue
Christian
I groaned as Gretchen lightly shook my shoulder. I'd been up late the night before. I'd gotten caught up working on the boat out in the garage, and the next thing I'd known, it had been three in the morning, and I still hadn't gone to bed. Gretchen had to know that I'd gone to bed late, too, since she'd clearly stayed up waiting for me, she'd eventually fallen asleep with a book in her hands.
I'd come back to the room and found her like that, and I hadn't been able to hide a fond smile as I watched her. It seemed like every new day, every new caring gesture that she made, I loved her more, as though that were somehow possible. But she was so wonderful.
“Give me five more minutes,” I mumbled, turning my face into the pillow.
“But then your breakfast is going to get cold,” Gretchen said, and when I cracked an eye open, I saw that she had brought me breakfast in bed.
But of course she had because it was Sunday morning, and she always brought me breakfast in bed on Sunday mornings, just like I always cooked dinner for her on her days off. I always insisted that she didn't have to do that, but she liked doing it, and it wasn't like I was complaining about it.
I pushed myself up into a sitting position, surprised to see how late it already was. “One o'clock already?” I asked, baffled to see that.
“Yeah, you were asleep,” Gretchen said, smiling fondly at me. “I didn't have the heart to wake you up any sooner.”
“I slept well,” I admitted, stretching broadly.
“And how's the boat coming along?” she asked.
“Really well, actually,” I told her. “I think I'll have it ready to sail by the time summer starts.”
“Awesome,” she said. She slipped into bed next to me and pulled her tray over her lap as she cuddled up next to me. “You know, I am still worried that you're just going to sail away and disappear one of these days,” she teased.
“You know I wouldn't do that,” I said easily.
“Hmm,” was all Gretchen said, even though I knew she couldn't possibly think that anymore. She had finally stopped asking me if I regretted moving to Hawaii, and things had been going great between us over the past couple years.
“You're coming to the luau tonight, right?” I asked her, trying to sound nonchalant.
“What luau?” she asked, frowning at me.
I shrugged. “Mark told me about it,” I said. “You didn't hear about it from Mina?”
“No,” Gretchen said frowning. “I've been pretty busy with work lately, what with all the new clients that we've been taking on. I think I need to find another masseuse to take some of the work because Mina and I are pretty much booked solid!”
“I know,” I said. “I've missed seeing you lately.”
“You see me every evening,” Gretchen said, rolling her eyes a little, but she was smiling. “And every day off as well, with the rare exception of the days that Mina and I both take off.”
“I know,” I said. “But it's not enough.”
Gretchen laughed. “What about this luau tonight? What are we even celebrating, anyway?”
“Do you need a reason to celebrate to have a luau?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at her.
“Well, I guess not,” Gretchen said, giggling a little.
I shrugged again. “I don't know what it's about, I just know Mark told me about it, and he has his finger on the pulse here, so I'm sure there is one. You'll go with me, right?”
“Maybe you and Mark should just have a guy's night,” Gretchen suggested. “I have appointments tomorrow, nothing too early in the day because Mina said she'd take those, but even still.” She shook her head. “Honestly, I've been working a little too much lately, I think. I'm just tired. As fun as a luau sounds, I don't think I can make it.”
I sighed and lightly stroked the back of her neck. “I understand that,” I said. “I know just how hard you've been working, and your clients do as well. But don't you think we could have just one night of fun? I'm not saying that we have to stay out until late or anything like that, but maybe we could just go for an hour or two and then head home? I'm sure there are a lot of people there who'd like to see you and ask how the business is going, and you don't want to leave all the talking to Mina, do you?”
“No,” Gretchen admitted, grimacing a little. She sighed. “Fine, I'll go,” she finally agreed. “But just for an hour or two. And then I want to come straight back here and curl up on the couch with you to watch some shitty TV.”
“That's a deal,” I said, reaching out a hand so that we could shake on it. I grinned slyly at her. “Would you wear that pretty green dress that I love on you?” I asked.
Gretchen laughed. “Sure,” she said, blushing a little.
That night, when we got to the beach, Gretchen looked around in confusion, even more confusion than she'd sported when I insisted on “dressing up” a little, in khaki shorts and a green button-down shirt that matched her dress. Of course, it was nothing like the dressing up that I used to do in New York, but she'd grown pretty accustomed to seeing me in t-shirts by this point. I had to hide a grin.
“No one's here yet,” Gretchen said slowly, looking around. “Are you sure that Mark
said there was going to be a luau?”
“Yeah,” I said, shrugging a little. “Maybe everyone's getting a late start since it's a work day. But come on, let's take a little walk down the beach. If we come back and no one's here, then we'll head home and have that TV date that I promised you.”
“Okay,” Gretchen said.
We ambled hand-in-hand down the beach, just on the line where the ocean met the shore. “It's still so beautiful out here,” I sighed as we walked along. “You know, I am so lucky to have met you and to have you in my life.”
Gretchen laughed a little. “I'm lucky too,” she said. “I never thought I was going to end up loving someone like you.”
“You are the sexiest, most beautiful, most talented woman that I know,” I continued. “When you want something, you get it. You constantly keep me on my toes. You have from the first day that I met you. That's what makes dating you so much fun. You've got a real spark to you. And I love that.”
Gretchen giggled. “What, are you trying to make me blush?” she asked.
“You're adorable when you blush,” I told her. “Honestly. I don't know what it is about it, but I love that you still get so shy around me sometimes, as though we haven't been intimately living together for the past couple of years. And I love hearing you giggle. It's cute.”
“Seriously, Christian, what's going on?” Gretchen asked, pulling me around to face her, looking searchingly up into my face.
I smiled gently down at her. “I'm just trying to tell you how much I love you, that's all,” I told her, steering her into walking again. We were almost there.
“You don't have to-”
“Yes, I do,” I interrupted her. “I want to make sure that you know, every single day for the rest of your life, how special you are to me, and how much I love you. I want to wake up with you every morning, and I want to go to bed with you every night. I want to stay with you here in Hawaii, or wherever we end up living. I want to build a home and a life with you.” I turned to face her as I led her into the spot that Mark and I had chosen.
Then, I sank down on one knee, as Mark illuminated the fairy lights all around us, showing the elaborate flower trellises and other decorations that we'd set up.
“Gretchen Means, I would very much like for you to do me the honor of becoming my wife.”
Gretchen stared down at me, her hands up over her mouth. Then, she looked around at the decorations, and then back at me. “Did you…”
“Yes,” I told her. “I had a little help from Mark and Mina, but it was my idea.”
She shook her head and then laughed, reaching a hand down toward me and cupping my cheek. “Yes,” she said, the sound choked with emotion. “Yes, Christian, God, yes. I would be so lucky to be your wife.”
I smiled at her and slipped the ring out of its box, sliding it carefully onto her third finger.
“God, it's gorgeous,” Gretchen said, her fingers tracing the pattern of flowers, dotted with little diamond centers, which swirled around the ring.
“If you don't like it, we can return it and get you something else,” I told her. I hadn't been sure about the design. Something about it spoke to me.
“I love it,” Gretchen told me, reaching down to pull me to my feet. “And I love you too.” She leaned in to kiss me. As we kissed, cheering and clapping broke out around us, and I grinned.
Gretchen whirled toward the sound and blushed brilliantly as she realized that pretty much everyone that she knew was there. They'd been waiting off in the shadows, but they'd seen the whole thing. She turned back to me, laughing. “You did all of this?” she asked.
I nodded and shrugged. “I know how important everyone is to you here,” I told her. “They're your family. It was only right that they be here for this special night.”
“There isn't a luau tonight, is there?” Gretchen asked.
“There will be now,” I said. “But I was the one to organize it. You should also know that Mina has canceled all the appointments at the shop for tomorrow, so you don't have to worry about staying out late. And speaking of Mina-”
Mina threw herself into Gretchen's arms. “I'm so excited for you!” she cried. Then, she pulled away, grabbing Gretchen's hand. “Let me see the ring. Christian wouldn't let me see it before he gave it to you, even though I told him that I'm good at keeping secrets; I kept this whole thing a secret, didn't I? But he wanted you to be the first person to see it, other than him. And wow, that is pretty. It suits you too.”
“Congratulations, man,” Mark said, clapping me on the back as he joined our little group. “Seems like just yesterday I was picking you up at the airport.”
“Oh, come on, don't get all nostalgic already,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Plenty of time for that when we're old.”
“I'm going to file that comment away and make sure I get super nostalgic in my speech at the wedding,” Jeff told me, winking at Mina as he slipped an arm around her waist. “That is if I'm allowed to be part of the wedding.”
I rolled my eyes again. “You're going to be my best man, aren't you?” I asked him. “So, yeah, I think you might have to be there at my wedding.”
“Hey, I thought I was going to be your best man!” Mark said, laughing.
I shook my head. “Sorry man, I've already destroyed my friendship with my brother once; I don't need to do it again.” I grinned.
Gretchen threw her arms around me again, burying her face against my shirt. “You're the best,” she said.
“No, you are,” I told her teasingly. I looked around. “Now, I know you all want to congratulate our beautiful bride-to-be, but let's get this luau started!”
Later that night, it was just Gretchen and me again, walking down the beach. “That was the best night,” she told me quietly, twisting her fingers into mine.
“It was,” I agreed, just as quietly. I paused. “You know, I am glad to be here.”
“I'm glad that you're here too.”
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BILLIONAIRE IN REHAB
By Claire Adams
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 Claire Adams
BILLIONAIRE IN REHAB PART I
Chapter One
Cassidy
“This is our dining area. You should come out here for all your meals,” Ronald March was saying as he brought the new guy around the facility.
I had seen enough tours of our swanky Aspen drug and alcohol rehabilitation center that I could probably have given the tour myself if I had to. Mr. March was dressed in a custom-tailored suit and looked more like a celebrity stylist than the manager of a drug rehab center. But then again, our drug rehab center wasn’t exactly like the ones you would see on television.
My heart flipped as I looked at the man Mr. March was giving a tour to. My initial thought was that he must be famous. His deeply-tanned skin was covered with a scruffy beard, and he was wearing a winter beanie hat that probably cost more than I earned in a week.
A guy like that showing up at our treatment center wasn’t all that unusual. We were a high-end facility that cost a lot of money. But what caught me about this guy was his general level of casualness. He seemed comfortable in our facility, more like he was on a tour of a candy factory than a drug and alcohol treatment facility. I had to wonder if he was even the patient or perhaps instead he was the agent to someone famous. That wouldn’t be unusual.
But no, Mr. March had said “you” when he talked about where to eat, so the man must be a new patient. Secretly, I was happy to have such a handsome guy around; it was fun to have a little eye candy when we were busy
working such long shifts.
The whole room paused and watched as the two men made their way through the dining area. It was an open area with several tables, each seating two or four people. Most of the patients were already out of the rooms and waiting for their meals; watching a new patient get his orientation was something to keep them busy with while they waited.
People paid thousands of dollars to hide away at Paradise Peak. Many of our clients were famous actors, musicians, and children of the rich. So, I wasn’t exactly surprised at my physical reaction to seeing the man. Hot guys were just as susceptible to addition as ugly guys were.
But there was something different about this one, something in his eyes that seemed genuinely lost. At Paradise Peak, people had the opportunity to work on mental health issues, drug issues, and alcohol issues – and many people had them all. Some celebrities even came to spend a week and just get away from all the people trying to control their lives.
“Hi, Brad, are you ready for some delicious stuffed chicken?” I asked as I brought a tray over to one of my patients for the day.
“What’s it stuffed with?”
“I don’t know.” I laughed.
“I don’t eat things if I don’t know what they are stuffed with. Come back when you know what’s in it.”
Brad seemed like he had Asperger’s syndrome or some form of autism that had never officially been diagnosed. Although, his behavior could have been from being spoiled all his life just as easily as it could have been an official disorder.
“Sure thing; how about I leave the applesauce and salad for you right now, and I’ll bring the rest back after I talk to the cook? Will that work?”
“Whatever.”
Brad Hanson was a musician and child celebrity who had frequented Paradise Peak for as long as I had worked there. Over the two years I had known him, I witnessed just what addiction could do to a man, and it made me so sad. Brad was forty-two years old and all alone. In his prime, he had been in a boy band that had been very popular in the ’90s, but in recent years, cocaine had taken over his life. He had also been part of a sitcom that ran for many years after his band broke up. All that happened before he turned twenty-five.