by Ruby Vincent
“Playing piano.”
“Got it in one.”
“Your turn.”
I consulted the list. “Share your favorite childhood memory.”
“Don’t even have to think about that one,” she said. “When I was eight, my mom took me to a butterfly garden. It was like entering another world. Small, enclosed, alive, and beautiful. Butterflies flitted around my head, and I remember my mom holding my hand and saying butterflies are God’s proof that we can have a new life. Look to them whenever I feel stuck.”
“I wish I believed that. I really do.”
Belle looked away. “Me too.”
We were quiet for long enough to make it uncomfortable. I forced myself to read the next one on the list.
Belle and I went through our tasks. Some of them made us laugh—like me singing and her doing her favorite dance—and the rest just made us talk like we used to do on the porch of my beach house.
“What do you want more than anything?” Belle asked.
We were both on the bench. The phone sat between us, off and ignored.
“To get my mom away from him.”
“He doesn’t... hurt her, does he?”
“No, nothing like that. The colonel would never lay a hand on her. But there are other ways to make someone miserable.”
“I’m familiar,” she whispered.
“You do that a lot.”
“What?”
I met her gaze. “Hint at something in your past. Something bad.”
She blinked, eyes widening, and dropped her head to keep me from seeing any more. “If you noticed, why haven’t you asked me to explain?”
“Because I do the same.” I rested my hand on her thigh, palm up. “And it’s only sometimes that I want people to ask. More often I want them to distract me. Which do you need, Belle?”
“Distraction,” she said as she slid her hand over mine, threading her fingers through. “Always distraction. Tell me about your mom.”
I focused on her fingers, tracing the tiny lines and grooves. When I met Belle, I told her our story from that point. Time to start from the beginning. “The colonel’s a hard man. Expects perfection. Needs control. He ran my mom’s life like a drill sergeant. A hundred math problems before bed. Five hours of piano practice for an hour of television.
“Every minute of her life was molded and scheduled to turn her into a success.” I shook my head. “I guess you could say it worked. Teachers called my mom a prodigy. She got straight As, won first at every science fair and earned early action into MIT.”
“But she was miserable,” Belle said. It wasn’t a question.
“Like you wouldn’t believe. She had no friends. Made it to her eighteenth birthday without going on a single date. The only person she was close to was her chef. When he deemed her old enough for a relationship, the colonel tried to control that too and sent her to the cove. Mom said it was the first that she spent any real time with people her age.
“They got her doing things she’d never thought she’d do and Dad was the worst one. The two of them stole a bottle of wine and sat on the beach all night talking. They skipped on a day of activities, chartered a boat out of town, and cruised around the island. Dad proposed to her a month before the summer was over.”
“Your dad was all heart,” Belle murmured. “Living in the moment. Jumping even if you don’t know what’s at the bottom.” She bumped my shoulder. “You get that from him.”
I cracked a smile. “You think so?”
“Yes. You’re the kind of guys that pries the level-headed, shy, practical girl out of her shell and gets her marking off the things she didn’t know was on her bucket list.”
“That’s pretty much how Mom puts it,” I said, laughing.
“Your grandfather must have loved him.”
“Mom walked through the door with my dad on her arm and she saw a side of the colonel that no one had ever seen. The real him. The only good thing about that day is she got the strength to break from him. She packed up her stuff that night and moved in with my dad.”
Belle squeezed my hand. “It couldn’t have been easy.”
“It wasn’t. He called the police and told them my dad kidnapped her.”
“What?” she cried.
“I wish I was shitting you. It didn’t work because she was eighteen, but the colonel didn’t fall at the first hurdle. That bastard did everything to get her back. Cut her off. Refused to pay for MIT. Kept her from Grandma. Fired the chef that served him for over twenty years and told Mom she’d get her job back if she came home.”
“The hell. What is wrong with that man? He’s a—”
“Monster.”
“Yes,” she said. “Of course you want to get her away from him.”
Our clasped hands shook. “Mom stood up to everything he threw at her to build her own life. Then we lost Dad and it flattened her. Grandma talked Mom into buying the beach house and taking a break till she got back on her feet. She moved in too and, for a while, it was okay with just the three of us. We had good times even though I thought those were over.
“They were,” I spat. “I just had to give it more time.”
Belle stroked my arm, comforting me. “Ask or distract?”
“Ask.”
“What happened, Nathan?”
I shut my eyes, seeing the moment that knocked over the first domino. “Grandma was feeling tired. Run-down. She went to the doctor for a checkup and walked out with a cancer diagnosis. After that, her vacation from the colonel was over. He had her brought home and Mom had to choose between following or never seeing her dying mother again.
“We moved into the mansion and that was that. The colonel kept Mom trapped in her grief, and when the first signs of her Alzheimer’s appeared, he had her declared mentally incompetent. Her medical care, the money Dad left her and her son transferred to him. Her only next of kin that wasn’t twelve.”
“Did he do the same to you? Hours at the piano? Math until the calculator bled?”
“Nah. Why put that much effort into someone who won’t amount to anything?”
“He said that to you?”
“Yep.”
Belle cursed. “Forget waiting. Hire a hitman and take him out now.”
“I’d need money for that too,” I said, chuckling. “The colonel keeps me on a strict stipend. He trades time with my mom for money to pay admission fees. If I don’t want to wear rags, I have to go home to the closet he stocked. Getting around means using his car and chauffeur. I’ve got the life of a wealthy heir without the money.”
“Which is what you need to make the case you’re the best person to care for your mother.” I watched the pieces click into place. “You’re going to marry someone you don’t love to rescue you both from that man.”
“I don’t have a choice.”
“You do have a choice,” she said, “and you choose your mom anyway. Damn it, Nathan! This is why I can’t stand you.”
I reeled back. “What’d I do now?”
“You flip between raging jackass and caring person so fast it makes my head spin around like a poltergeist.”
“Uhh. Sorry?”
“You should be sorry.” She dropped her head on my shoulder, further compounding my confusion. “Anyone in mind for the future Mrs. Nathan Prince?”
“Mom says it should be you.”
“Me? She remembers me?”
“Wild, right? You didn’t meet in person but you left an impression. She likes you.”
“She does?” Belle sounded genuinely happy. “I like her too. Just from what you told me about her, she’s got to be one of the bravest women I know. I would like to meet her if that’s okay.”
“It is. I’ll bring you around one day. After we move out,” I added. “As for the blushing bride who’ll help us do that, it’ll be whoever understands my situation and will marry me anyway. I won’t lie and drain some poor girl of her money. She takes me and Mom on, and in six years when I’m legall
y allowed to take over the shares Grandma left me from Steele Electrics, her investment will pay off.”
“You have more to offer than a pile of money. You can find someone who sees that, Nathan. Choosing your family doesn’t have to mean choosing unhappiness.”
“I’m not in love with anyone on this island, Belle, so what else could it mean?”
She didn’t have an answer for me.
The sun beat down our necks, pushing us toward the cool shuttle and separate seats redrawing the wall between us. Still, Belle’s temple rested on my shoulder.
She’s taking pity on me. After hearing just how much life has shat on me, she doesn’t have it in her to toss me over any more balconies. I’m so pathetic even the hitman the colonel sent to kill me would stop and take me for a drink first.
“Guys?”
We looked up. Zion and Mila waved us over.
“We’re leaving.”
“Coming.” Belle hopped off the bench, racing to join them.
She didn’t look back.
BELLE
I fussed with my phone. Taking the tiny little sim card out and putting in the new one. The discarded sim was flung at the trash bin and pinged off the side.
How Mal found my new numbers as quickly as I change them, I didn’t know. How he found us as quickly as we moved, I didn’t know. Why he couldn’t let me go, I would never know.
Nathan’s story of a young woman trapped in the grip of a man who’d do anything to possess her hit me harder than I expected. As we sat there holding hands, I had a crazy, wild thought that I should marry Nathan. That brief notion took hold of me, spinning out into a formed idea with accompanying visions of our future, and I hurried away from him before I said it out loud.
It wasn’t about Nathan.
It was about her.
Vanessa Prince. Trapped in that room. Recalling bits and pieces of her life and the majority of it misery at the hands of her father.
After everything she’d done to get away from him, he couldn’t win.
“He can’t have her.”
The six on the screen blurred through my tears, warping it into an eight.
Clearing my throat, I wiped a palm over my damp cheeks. Whether it was six or eight o’clock, I was late for dinner.
I changed out of my dress into jeans and a lace peasant top. Most people didn’t know I matched my clothes to my mood. Simple outfit = Serious Belle.
Considering marrying the ex-lover who shredded my heart in a blender was as serious as it gets.
Nathan is Nathan. Zion had it right that plenty of girls would marry him even if they had to wait fifty years for his inheritances to come through. I’ve heard said girls say much the same. It doesn’t have to be me.
There she went again. My voice of reason. Her logic was sound. Her points backed up by evidence. But all through her speech, all I pictured was that sweet woman I spoke to on the phone, listening to me drone on about fabric patterns and overcast stitching, and replying that I had talent for miles. It would take me wherever I wanted to go.
I saw Vanessa Prince... and over her shoulder stood Mal.
I could lay out terms, I told myself. We’d live apart like Carter kept suggesting.
Nathan would live with his mom in their own house and I’d ensure she had everything she needed. In the meantime, I’d be off at college and then moving on where life took me. We wouldn’t sleep together even if it is the only thing we’re good at. No kids even though little Jameson would be adorable.
Separate lives.
I could handle that and, most importantly, Vanessa would be free.
“She has to be free.”
I threw open my door and met with a raised fist.
“Good timing,” Preston said. “Going down to the dining hall?”
“Yes.”
“Want to join me instead? My private eating spot also comes with an unrestricted menu. Chef will make anything we want.”
“I don’t want to add to her load. She’s got her hands full feeding almost forty people.”
“Make it simple, then. Grilled cheese and chicken noodle soup.”
Preston ambled off and I fell in step with him without thinking about it.
“Chicken noodle? Most go for tomato soup with their grilled cheese.”
“I would,” he said, “if I wasn’t allergic.”
“You’re allergic to tomatoes? Seriously?”
“As serious as the hives. I can’t do most nightshades.”
“So you can’t have ketchup? Denied the simple pleasure with French fries, doused hot dogs, and a good eggplant parmesan.” I squeezed his shoulder. “I feel bad for all the mean stuff I’ve said to you now. You’ve suffered enough.”
Preston laughed. “Feel bad for the smashed nose too?”
“Ask me when Lilah stops glaring daggers at me.” We reached the stairs leading to the back terrace. “By the way, when do I get to see you in that tutu?”
“Ha ha,” he deadpanned. “It’s when that girl is backed into a corner that she really brings out the claws. Under different circumstances, we’d be a perfect match.”
“What’s going on with you two?”
“We’re having a disagreement about the terms of our arrangement. What’s going on with you, Nathan, and Carter?”
I hesitated. Preston had made it abundantly clear that he wanted in my bed. Plus, in his bed, the sea, the kitchen, and twice in the broom closet. Talking to him about my conflicting feelings over marrying Nathan wasn’t the best move. He’d likely be biased.
But on that note.
“Carter announced his intention to marry me to the world. Don’t you have something to say about that?”
“It’s what you have to say that matters.” Preston reached the sliding glass and held it open for me. “Carter doesn’t approve of his father’s business methods or even his father. He’d sooner march in protest with oil-drenched ducks than work for the company.
“But just because his father’s an asshole doesn’t mean he has to give up his life. At least Carter doesn’t see it that way. He wants to marry you for a bigger inheritance and I’ve got no room to talk. My reasons for marrying Delilah aren’t far off.”
We moved to the table nearest the fountain. A warm night relieved by the steady cool breeze traveling over the water. The waves sang a light, whispering music that calmed me. Ever the gentleman, Preston pulled out my chair.
If I did go on dates, this would be the start of a good one.
“So you’re marrying her for money,” I stated. “Why? I’m told you’re the richest guy here.”
“It’s complicated.”
I waited for more. None came.
“You don’t want to tell me. You don’t trust me.”
A faint smile crossed his lips. “I don’t know if I do or don’t, to be honest. Again my overwhelming urge to make that pussy sit up and beg is taking out my self-preservation instincts.”
I fought a smile. “You just say and do whatever you want, don’t you?”
He shrugged, arms out. “I don’t meet with a lot of consequences.”
I tapped my nose.
“Until you,” he corrected.
“I’m still confused. If you want to be with me so badly, why are you chill about your best friend making me wife number one?”
“It’s not like I can throw my ring in the race, Belle,” he said, growing serious. “You don’t want that even if I could. Sex is what you’d share with me, and Carter isn’t getting in the way of that. It’s up to you.”
It’s up to me.
Sleeping with Preston. Marrying Nathan. Dropping Carter in a deep, dark hole.
It’s my choice. In this impossible situation, this is where I have control.
The chef’s assistant stepped onto the terrace and took our orders. Two grilled cheeses and chicken noodle soup. The conversation changed as we waited and received our meals. Over bowls of hot soup and melty, gooey cheese, we talked about my making costumes for my scho
ol plays and his life in the academy.
“They randomly assigned new roommates every year,” he said. “My freshman roommate was a good guy. Clean. Quiet. Roommate number two was working on a way to break down those floating garbage barges in the ocean. He’d keep a tank full of trash in our room.”
“You’re kidding,” I cried.
“I’m all for saving the world, but our room smelled like moldy milk cartons and frustration for half the year.”
I laughed. “My local high school doesn’t seem so bad now. Honestly, I loved it. I got to stay the whole four years. Join clubs. Commit to things. You appreciate that when you move as much as we have.”
“Was it because of the cruise line?”
“Yes,” I said, parroting our lie. “My dad has hundreds of boats traveling out of almost every port in this county and some out of a few others. He likes to be hands-on. Keep an eye on everything.”
“I want to be the same. Visiting my galleries. Overseeing the acquisitions of new pieces. Discovering artists.” Preston lost his grin. “Depends on how much time I have outside of running the company.”
“The Desai Dynasty.”
“That’s the one.”
“I get the feeling you’re interested in only half of your legacy.”
Polishing off the rest of his sandwich delayed his reply. “We don’t get to be half of who we are,” he finally said. “Not in our world. If we want to hang on to the lives we have, one way or another, we shut up and take what our parents give us.”
I opened my mouth to disagree and then I thought of Carter marrying to hang on to his lifestyle. Nathan entering into a business arrangement to escape his grandfather. And me, staying on the island I swore I wouldn’t set foot on so I wouldn’t be stripped of everything.
What could I argue about? Preston painted the truest picture of our lives.
In our world, there is no real rebellion.
We always end up doing what we’re told.
“Let’s not go there,” I said. “Do you have a private living room as well as the private dining area?”
“Yeah.”
“I had watch Hot Fuzz on my list of things to do tonight.”
“Love that movie.”
I pushed back my chair. “Then you can join me. Promise to keep your hands to yourself?”