by Ruby Vincent
“No. They called and I blocked the number immediately.”
“Good. We’ll get your number changed. This won’t happen again.”
You’ve said that before.
I slumped over, touching my forehead to the dresser. I slept for four hours and yet I was exhausted. So very, very tired.
“Shouldn’t I come home, Mom? What if... it’s not safe?”
“You will be safe, my love. I promise. I’ve spoken to Mrs. Desai. No one other than guests are allowed in or near the villa. Everyone on her security has been with her for at least five years and they’ve all passed background checks. The same for the staff in the house,” she said. “Remember why you’re there, Belle. Don’t let anything else distract you.”
“How can I not be distracted?” I rasped. “That text. He knows I left. Less than twelve hours after I left Bracknell, he knew. How did he know?”
“He doesn’t know where you are,” she said firmly. “And he will not find out. That is what matters. Now, you put this whole nasty business out of your mind. If you need anything or... if something happens, call us and we’ll be there faster than Jefferson can refuel the plane.”
“Okay.” For that brief moment I didn’t have it in me to be angry. “Thanks, Mom.”
“I love you, darling. We’ll talk soon?”
“Yes. Tomorrow. You’ll be back to Cecilia by then.”
To my surprise, she chuckled. “You can call me what you must as long as I get to hear your voice.”
And there she was. The mom I knew.
“Oh. Your father’s here. Say hi, dear.”
My smile vanished. “I have to get going.”
“Bel—”
I hung up.
Rescuing the rest of my makeup, I carried it into the bathroom and finished getting ready.
The villa was packed. I heard the chatter of friends walking past my door and the thumps of the person settling in above me. Downstairs the mixer/luau was kicking off with a buffet and dancing according to my information packet. Mrs. Desai was also kind enough to note the objective underneath.
Get to know each other in a relaxed, friendly environment.
They’re going to get to know me all right.
I swiped on my lipstick, did my hair up in a messy ponytail, and slipped into my white crochet top and matching skirt. Yes, I crocheted it myself. Yes, it was a bitch. But I wanted to learn and throwing myself into projects served as a great distraction. It would all work out if channeling everything I went through into design earned me the career I wanted. And the security that always felt out of reach.
Shaking away those thoughts, I gave myself one last look in the mirror and headed out. Music beckoned me from the staircase, leading me down and through a new hallway. Ahead of me, freshly minted graduates and coeds danced on the other side of the sliding glass door. I stepped out and dozens of pairs of eyes clapped on me.
Tiki torches and string lights cast a glow over the pool, veiling it in an almost romantic atmosphere. Couples took up lawn chaises. Friends sat on the rim kicking their feet in the water. Preston, Nathan, and Carter tossed a football on the lawn, laughing and yukking it up.
I landed on a group of girls staring particularly hard. “Does my reputation precede me?”
“It does, Belle Adler,” one of them said. “Come on. Grab a drink and join us.”
I shrugged. “Why not?”
The buffet table offered me a host of mocktails. I floundered between a Bahama Mama and a Fuzzless Navel, and then decided to get both of them.
“What are we talking about?” I asked, joining the group.
“You, of course.” The girl who invited me stuck out her hand, noticed my double-fisting predicament, and dropped it. “I’m Hazel. This is Nora, Mila, and Kelli.”
They were a cute bunch. Matching pink two-piece bathing suits under black kimonos. Shades propped on Hazel’s freckled nose and braids fell to Nora’s hips. Otherwise, they matched down to the same purple nail polish.
“Nice to meet you guys.”
“Why haven’t we met before?” asked Kelli. “You didn’t go to Blackburn?”
“Dad and the dame sent me to a local high school. I didn’t want to be too far away. Am I the only ‘new’ girl?”
“You’re definitely the most interesting,” Hazel said. “That speech you gave was hilarious.”
“Wasn’t meant to be comedic relief,” I muttered.
Kelli flapped a hand. “This whole thing seems weird if you’ve been outside of it, but how I look at it is a chance to snag Nathan Prince or Carter Knight for a summer of fun or a lifetime of it.” She pushed her breasts up, eyes drifting over my shoulder to the football game. “Either one sounds good to me.”
“It’s Preston I want,” Nora said. “He was a god on the soccer field. Sweaty and dripping like a mason jar filled with iced tea on a summer’s day.”
“Descriptive,” I said.
“You can lust after Preston all you want, but everyone knows he’s Delilah’s.” Hazel turned on me. “They’ve pretty much been dating since middle school.”
“Good to know.” I couldn’t resist peeking over my shoulder. I fell on Nathan just as he pulled his shirt off. “Are those guys really the most eligible bachelors?”
“Um, yeah. Just look at them.”
Look at them indeed. I called them sirens for a reason.
“So, if they proposed, you would marry one of them?”
“Yep.”
“For sure.”
“Hell yeah.”
“I’d say yes before he dropped on his knee.” Hazel nudged me. “But you wouldn’t?”
I heaved a sigh. “I can’t. There’s too much history there, especially between me and Nathan. Having a baby together and giving him up for adoption. Something like that is hard to come back from.”
A profound silence shrouded the group.
Wide-eyed Hazel looked from me, to Nathan, and back to me. “Excuse me?”
I shook my head. “Guessing he didn’t spread that around the academy. But yes, we have a son. He’s two and about the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. He’s got curls and freckles just like his daddy.”
The girls inched back, passing a look around each other.
“Our parents wouldn’t let us keep the baby, but we have an open adoption and we want to be active in our son’s life. Tell me, Hazel,” I said, halting her retreat. “Are you ready to be a stepmother?”
“Uhh. Actually, our friends are waving for us, so we gotta go. Nice talking to you, Belle.”
“Bye.”
It took every ounce of willpower I possessed not to fall over laughing as the four of them scurried away.
“Oh, yeah.” A smirk split my cheeks. “This is going to be fun.”
I set my sights on another group of girls and got to work.
“Huntington’s disease,” I moaned. “It’s a terrible genetic disorder.”
My new friend Piper clapped a hand over her mouth. “Carter has that? How awful. He never said.” She threw a mournful look at the oblivious boy running across the lawn. “No wonder he’s so closed off.”
“Can you blame him? If his condition wasn’t bad enough, he told me that any child he has will have a fifty percent chance of inheriting the disorder. His future wife would have to be comfortable using a sperm donor and caring for him as his disease progresses. But you know what, that’s true love right there.” I beamed at her. “If you marry Carter, I know you’ll be there for him in every way.”
“Well... uh... There’s a lot we’d have to discuss before talking marriage.” Her gushing praise of the gorgeous, aloof ice prince of Blackburn dried up fast. “To make the right choice for both of us.”
“Of course.”
I wandered over to the buffet to get another mocktail. Drifting closer to a pack near the spring rolls, Ivy’s voice reached my ear.
“—be with someone mature. Who accepts their responsibilities and takes them seriously. Plus, Preston and I
have hooked up a few times and we’ve got great chemistry in bed.” Ivy flipped that blue-black mane over her shoulder. “I don’t care if he’s with Delilah. He’ll be proposing to me at the end of the summer.”
“Preston Du Pont-Desai is popular.” I drew their attention on me. “Everyone who isn’t talking about Nathan or Carter, is talking about him.”
Ivy’s brows crawled up her forehead. “Don’t I owe you a trip face-first into the dirt?”
“No need for that. We’re all friends here.” I threw my arm around her shoulder, earning a squawk. “I heard what you said on the shuttle and I realize I was too judgmental. There is no right or wrong way to find love. If it happens for you on a secluded island among two dozen potential suitors. Go for it.”
“Don’t touch me, Adler.” She slapped my hand off. “Never do that.”
“Just one thing,” I continued, dropping my voice. “I can sadly also agree that Preston’s incredible in bed.”
“Sadly?” one of the girls spoke up.
I nodded. “We hooked up a while ago. I got a little too in the mood and told him he didn’t need the condom. The next thing I know, your girl is burning in places that shouldn’t burn.”
“What?” she gasped.
“That’s right. Chlamydia.” I swirled my finger at them. “I’m sure you girls are way smarter than me, but if you have been with him, get tested just to be sure.”
“That’s not true,” Ivy cried. “You got that shit from someone else.”
“Unlikely since I was a virgin before him.” I walked off. “Just a tip between us girls!”
I went off in search of my next batch of victims.
“Hey. It’s Belle, right?”
Or maybe they would come to me.
Two broad-shouldered guys in trunks and open shirts entered my orbit.
“I’m Asher,” the taller guy said. “This is Owen.”
“We heard your speech at the reception and we agree one hundred percent,” Owen said.
“Yeah?”
“Fuck yeah,” Asher said. “We’re entering into an era of sexual exploration. Save the rings, wedding planners, and kids until our thirties.”
“Glad to hear not everyone thinks I’m the crazy new girl.”
“No one thinks that,” said Owen. “You said a lot of the same crap we argued about in the academy when our older brothers and sisters were going through the same thing.”
“Besides,” Asher threw in, “with a kid and all, you know how serious all of this is.”
I made a noise in my throat. “Tell me about it. One kid and possibly another on the way.” I rubbed my stomach. “One night of wild fun with Preston Desai has me three days late on my period. It’ll be even harder finding a teenage husband willing to raise another man’s baby with me.”
The guys gaped at me. Out of nowhere, Zion appeared and grasped my arm.
“Belle, can I talk to you for a second?” He didn’t wait for a response. Zion drew me off to the side, out of reach of the tiki torches. “Belle, what’s up? Do you know what people are saying about you?”
I patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, Mitchell. You know how these rumors flare up.”
“They do when you’re running around telling everyone you have five kids and actually live in the trailer behind the Lewis-Adler mansion.” He peeled me bare with a wry look. “You’re trying to turn every guy off at the starting gate so they don’t think of running to you.”
“Got me in one.”
“I like it. I really do.” He dropped his voice. “But you should ease up on the Preston, Carter, and Nathan talk. They’re not guys you want to mess with. Just say you almost got busted for running a meth lab with a random ex. That’ll widen your stay-away barrier.”
“Good tip, Mitchell. You’re thinking outside the box.” I threw an arm around him, the two of us strolling farther from the party. “Give me some more. What do you think about spreading around that I’m only in it for a sugar daddy?”
“That could backfire. To be blunt, you’re fine as hell. One or two guys would be willing to keep those credit cards loaded up to have you on their arm for life.”
“Damn. You’re right. Okay, instead...”
Zion and I circled the perimeter of the party, tossing ideas back and forth on the total annihilation of my reputation. Eventually, we drifted far enough to hit beach. Most of the guys were down there joining in on the football game Preston, Nathan, and Carter started.
That dripping, iced-tea mason jar wasn’t far off.
The shirts were off and those boys were glistening in the moonlight. Watching them stripped of designer labels, covered in dirt and sand, hooting and hollering uncaring of lordly manners, they didn’t come off as mythical creatures then, and still... they never looked more handsome.
“Which one?”
I jerked. “What?”
Zion pointed his chin at the boys. “I know that look. Which one of them got to you? Was it Nathan? Did he really get you pregnant?”
“No,” I said, face warming. “And there is no look. What about you, Mitchell?” I flapped a hand at the dancing partygoers. “Who are you here for?”
“No one in particular.” Zion stretched his legs out, forming two grooves in the sand. “I didn’t date much in high school. Only hung out with a couple of friends. Believe it or not, my parents sent me here to socialize. Pry me out of my shell. My mom will cry real tears if I walk off this island close to someone other than my odd friends.”
“You’re lucky.” I threw out my arms. “Snagged me on the first day. Now the pressure is off for the rest of the summer.”
Zion chuckled. “Belle, you’ve been running around telling everyone you’ve got babies and STDs. You’re odd, girl. Accept it.”
“True.”
“Hey, Zion!” One of the footballers broke off and jogged up to us. “We’re uneven, man. Come play.”
“Do you mind?” he asked me.
“Nah. Go ahead. I’m about to sneak some tea out of the kitchen and curl up on my balcony with a book. The party’s over for me.”
“See you in the morning.” He winked. “The adventure begins.”
“Oh, sweetie, you used the wrong word. You meant nightmare.”
Zion ran away laughing his head off.
Picking myself up, I trudged into the house and made good on my threat to invade the kitchen. The lights were off. Surfaces wiped down, sanitized, and gleaming. The soft hum that accompanied every kitchen led me to the fridge. I hit the jackpot with a can of condensed milk, and made myself a steaming pot of milky tea. My pocket vibrated as I pulled a packet of shortbread cookies out of the pantry.
555-4526: Tell me where you are, Arabella.
I quickly blocked the number, as though staring at it for too long would lead a trail to me like police traced a chatty kidnapper on an open line.
My hairs stood on end up and down my arm. In spite of my pot of what Mom and I called sleepy tea, I knew I wouldn’t get one hour of rest that night.
Upstairs, I took a quick bath, washing off the sand, and wrapped myself in a fluffy bathrobe. Distraction was the name of my game. A book I chose at random off the bookshelf and my drink joined me on the balcony.
The soft, chaise lounge welcomed me with cottony arms. Music and chatter floated over my picturesque scene. I didn’t mind it so much. Their revelry reminded me I wasn’t alone, and my undisturbed view of the rolling, foaming waves put me at ease.
If he’s asking where you are, it means he doesn’t know. You’re safe here, Belle. Your biggest worry is fending off potential suitors.
I repeated the thought a few times to will my chilled blood to circulate. When I almost believed myself, I picked up my mug and book and settled in for a long night.
The Devotion of Suspect X was deep into the best part when I returned. It hooked me and dragged me deeper, smothering me in the brilliant, twisted world of Keigo Higashino.
Hours passed. The dredges of my tea grew col
d. The noise from the party faded to silence.
I hunched over my book, eyes skimming faster than my brain was taking the words in. This is insane. The whole time the killer was—
The light winked out, cutting off my reading like a sack over the head. My overhead light flickered. On. Off. On. And then off for a thirty-second stretch.
Kissing my teeth, I heaved myself up and went inside. I turned the lights on in my room and pushed the curtains back to let them reach my spot. Satisfied, I returned to my book.
“What’s our son’s name?”
Another bulb flicked on.
Nathan propped his elbows on his rail, gazing at me from the neighboring balcony. He was clad from the waist down. A beer bottle hung from his fingers, dangling over the rose bushes.
I saved the sputter and shock at finding out he had the room next to mine. The way my life was going, Carter was probably on the other side and Preston in the room opposite.
I set my book down, rising to my feet. Two years and we hadn’t laid eyes on each other. Not so much as spoken a word. Two meetings in three days had broken our streak. Speaking to each other would demolish it.
Go inside, Belle. Draw the shades. Turn out the lights. Let this chapter of your life remain closed.
It was well-named as a voice of reason. Too much had gone wrong in the space of a few hours. Heeding my common sense to stay away from Nathan Prince would save the pieces of frayed twine holding my life together from unraveling further.
Go, Belle. Go, go, go.
“Jameson,” I answered. “After your father.”
Nathan chuckled. No reason he should’ve done that. We were talking about the imaginary love child I created to scare away his admirers. But if Nathan ever responded the way I expected him to, we wouldn’t be in our current mess.
“I like it,” he said. “It’s the name I would’ve given my son.”
“I know. You told me.”
“Does he look like me or you?”
“You. He’s got your freckles and curls. My eyes.”
“The kid must be adorable. How did we survive giving him up?”
“It was hard,” I said carefully, “but in the end, we did what was best for all of us.”
He nodded, head tilting back to the stars. “Funny, isn’t it?”