by Jillian Dodd
“You know what I mean, Kathryn. He profits from your work. I don’t appreciate him putting you through this.”
“You realize he’s not the one doing it, right? He isn’t making me do this. He’s only the CEO of the company that owns a bunch of other companies. My publisher is just one of them.”
“Dance around the truth all you’d like, granddaughter of mine, but that doesn’t change a thing.”
Peter, true to form, is much kinder. “How do you feel about it? What do you want out of your life and career, Kathryn?”
Wow. Sure didn’t know I’d be getting roped into this discussion today. I guess I’m the only one to blame since I started the conversation flowing in this direction. “I’m not sure. I want to keep selling books—that I know. I want to be happy. I want the same sort of thing everybody else wants.”
“Do you think this is the path to that future?”
Gosh, with the hard-hitting questions. “I mean, who can ever offer a definitive answer to that question? We can’t look into the future. We can only make the best choices in the moment, right? And I’m not unhappy. That’s the thing. I’m really not. I like my life.”
“Then, by God, do what you want to do and tell anyone who feels otherwise where they can take their opinions.” He chuckles slightly, a little sheepish. “Excuse me if I get a bit vocal when something matters as much as this.”
My heart is so full; I can’t even stand it. “I swear, if I thought I could compete with Grandmother for even a nanosecond, you’d both be in trouble.” I lean over to kiss his cheek. “Thank you.”
“Anytime.” His eyes twinkle a little. “Though, please, do something for me.”
“You know I would do anything for you.”
“Be kind to that friend of yours. He cares about you; that much is clear. It isn’t always easy for us to admit to the people we care for just how much we care. We might resort to judgment when there isn’t any other way for us to demonstrate that caring.”
Grandmother, of course, has an opinion of her own. “He needs to keep out of your business, that friend of yours. Perhaps he needs someone to remind him that not all opinions need voicing.”
Peter pats her knee with a fond smile, and she softens. As always, they complement each other perfectly.
I wonder if I’ll ever find the person who complements me that way.
“Do me one favor, dear,” Grandmother adds as I’m about to leave. “While you’re at the resort, be sure to protect yourself.”
“I’ll wear plenty of sunscreen; don’t worry.”
“I didn’t mean sunscreen, though you’d do well to steer clear of sunspots.” She pats my cheek. “I meant, prophylactics. Condoms.”
And that’s what causes me to drop dead of embarrassment. The end.
Or so it seems as I leave Grandmother’s and wish I could wipe the memory of her saying that from my brain for all time.
CHAPTER FOUR
“Are you flipping kidding me?” I have to take off my sunglasses when stepping out of the cab, which picked us up at the airport. Like it matters whether or not I’m looking around with sunglasses on.
There are times when a person needs to see things without a filter.
Like right now.
“Why are you surprised?” Hayley shakes her head at me, standing by my side. “We looked at pictures on the website. Remember?”
“Sure, but it’s one thing to see something online and another to see it in front of you.” Somehow, I manage to pry my eyes away from the sparkling jewel in front of me long enough to shoot her a look. “Don’t tell me you don’t think this is impressive.”
“Oh, sure I do. I think it’s fucking stunning.” Spoken with Hayley’s usual style. “But I’m not gonna stand around with my jaw touching the ground either. Besides, we’re holding up the porter.” She hands a few bills to our driver, who’s on his way before I even think to thank him.
I would normally chafe at the way Hayley described me, but there’s more than a little bit of truth to what she said.
I’m completely overwhelmed, and I know it looks that way.
But seriously, this place could be part of a movie set. In fact, I think I’ve seen it in more than one movie. The sort of place an extremely wealthy, connected, fabulous person stays.
The main building, which we sail into behind the porter pushing our luggage on a wheeled rack, is completely white from roof to foundation, making it shine under the bright sun. It’s like a diamond nestled in blue velvet—that would be the sky, where not a single cloud is in sight.
From the moment we turned off the road, the fountains and palm trees lining both sides of the wide gravel drive leading to the main entrance told me this was going to be a special place. There are tropical flowers everywhere, and the aroma is enough to make me dizzy.
“Would you like a drink?” A young man in white linen approaches us as we wait at the concierge desk.
“I’ll have a mai tai.” Hayley turns to me, brows lifting.
“Just a water for me, thanks.” When her brows lift even higher, I shrug. “I’m exhausted, and I know it would go straight to my head.”
“Suit yourself, babe. As far as I’m concerned, we’re on vacation.”
Something tells me there’s more to it than that, but I’m willing to bite my tongue. The way her eyes keep roaming the lobby is a dead giveaway.
She needs a drink to calm her nerves before any family members show up and ask if she’s put on a little weight.
“You know, everybody’s going to be so busy fawning over your sister this week, they won’t even pay attention to you.” I’m trying to be helpful. I really am. “You could probably streak through the resort and nobody would notice.”
“How nice would that be for once?” She shoots me a grateful look. “You’re a good friend.”
“Who, me?” I point to myself with a shrug. “I’m just along for the ride.”
Our waiter comes back with beverages around the same time we step up to the desk.
“Ah, yes, our wedding party. How was your trip?” The girl behind the desk is all smiles as she looks back and forth between us.
“Early,” I groan, which earns me a giggle.
“You’ll have plenty of opportunities to rest and relax now that you’ve arrived. We’ve included all the information you’ll need here, in this folder.” She hands it to me before turning away to the table running the length of the wall behind her.
I didn’t notice them until now, too busy being glad we were finally there and staring in wonder at how beautiful everything is.
There’s a long row of baskets sitting there, overflowing with items. The poor girl grunts softly as she picks one of them up; it’s so heavy.
“Thank you for being part of our special day.” Hayley lets out a soft sigh upon reading the handwritten note pinned to the basket. “Kylie’s really outdone herself.”
She has too. There’s a bottle of wine with the names of the bride and groom printed on the label, two glasses, a candle, truffles, a little book titled Our Love Story, what I assume is an itinerary for the week, and more buried underneath.
“Wow. I’m … impressed.” I mean, there’s being extra, and there’s this. Not that I think I’d do much differently if this were my wedding.
Though let’s be honest. I’d have to hire somebody to do it for me since I’d find a way to lose track of everything before I even got started.
“I have nothing but respect for anybody able to put something like this together.”
We have to give the basket to the porter since it’s too awkward for even the two of us to carry together. He puts it with the luggage and follows the concierge’s instructions to find our room.
According to the map of the resort, the rooms are situated in various smaller buildings that sort of radiate from the main building in a half-circle. We step out of the main building and follow him down a flower-lined path to one of the outer longhouses.
“Ooh, there’
s somewhere I wanna visit.” Hayley points to the pool, half-visible through even more thick, luscious flowers and palm trees.
“This is like heaven. Did we die and go to heaven?”
She laughs. “I doubt it. Though I’m sure Kylie would make up welcome baskets for that too.”
“Don’t be hard on her.”
“She’s a total social-media bride.”
“Oh shoot!” I forgot about taking pictures for my accounts. Before we reach the longhouse, I manage to snap a few shots of pretty flowers and trees against that startling, ridiculous blue sky.
“Don’t think so much about work.”
“I find that hilarious, coming from you. You’re the one who turned this trip into my working vacation, or did you forget?”
She’s wearing sunglasses, but I know she’s rolling her eyes. Call it a side effect of knowing somebody for a long time.
The rooms in the longhouse are positioned on either side of a long hallway.
“This is you, ladies.” The porter opens the door, using an electronic key.
And I pretty much have to lean against the doorframe to keep from hitting the floor. “Holy. Cow.”
I follow Hayley inside, and even she looks impressed. There are doors that open onto the beach. I mean, straight onto the beach with its white sand and blue-green water. We have a patio too. I can already imagine having breakfast out there.
Maybe while writing down my notes.
Talk about photo ops. I’ve always wanted to take one of those pictures where all you see is the person’s feet and the view beyond. I can tag it, like, Another day at the office. Something cute like that.
Hayley tips the porter before he goes, leaving us alone. “Wow. I’ve gotta give it to my sister. This venue is amazing.” She steps out onto the patio and takes a deep breath. “I could get used to this.”
“Same here.”
She grins back at me over her shoulder. “Has it ever occurred to you that you can work from anywhere in the world? Like, literally anywhere?”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“You could spend your whole life moving from place to place. A month here, a month there. I mean, it’s not like you aren’t paying an arm and a leg for that apartment. Hell, you could even sublet it and use that as income too.” She spreads her arms. “This could be your home whenever you want it to be.”
“It’s tempting. But I don’t know. I like having roots.” I sit on the edge of one of the two beds and test its firmness—a mistake because, now, all I want to do is lie down. “Besides, I would miss you.”
“I’d make the sacrifice of visiting whenever you wanted.”
“You’re such a generous person.”
I need to get up since I might fall asleep if I don’t, and there’s way too much I want to see before the rest of Hayley’s immediate family shows up and we’re beholden to them.
“Oh my God, she made a book with little drawing versions of the two of them.” Hayley flips through it, snickering. “Like anybody cares that he learned to make her favorite dinner to show how much he liked her. Is it that hard to make lasagna?”
Here I am, thinking it’s sort of cute. But she’s obviously in a mood just from being here and having it thrown in her face, how happy her successful sister is.
“You know my romance-writer’s heart,” I remind her with a slight laugh in hopes of keeping things light.
“You would think it’s cute, wouldn’t you?” She gives me a fake smile. “Sorry. I’m bitter.”
“I wouldn’t call it—”
“Bitter. I am. I admit it. I haven’t even seen anybody from the family yet, and I’m already in a pissy mood. This isn’t easy for me. Especially after …”
She goes back to the book like it’s the most important thing in the world. I know what she means, and I wish—not for the first time—that she’d told me about her affair with her boss while it was going on.
It seems like she caught real, true feelings for him. The jerk. He never deserved her.
“Looks like I should’ve ordered more than one drink,” she murmurs with a wry grin, tucking the book into the basket.
“Probably not a good idea. You don’t want to be so drunk that you end up saying things you’ll regret.”
“Wanna bet?”
“I know. Let’s put our suits on and sit out by the pool. If you want a drink, let’s have some atmosphere to go with it.” I’m already digging through my carry-on, where I packed everything I’d need for a trip outside.
“Yeah, we should do that. But I should check in on my parents first. They’ve been here since last night, and if they find out I went to the pool before even saying hi …”
“Got it. I’ll grab us a table under an umbrella and wait for you there.”
It only takes a few minutes to get changed and toss what I need into a tote bag. No matter what Hayley says, I’m not swanning around the pool in nothing but a bikini. My caftan is long and flowy and, in my opinion, dramatic. It’s the sort of thing a romance writer would wear poolside.
Obviously, since I’m going to wear it poolside.
It’s only around eleven in the morning by the time I take a seat at a table, but there are already at least two dozen people out and about. Bronzed, beautiful people.
It’s enough for the time being to take a few photos and schedule them to post across my accounts later. One of the pool, which is crystal clear and inviting on a warm day. One of the beach beyond. I’ll have to take plenty of shots from the patio, for sure.
“Maggie’s gonna love this,” I murmur with a smile while typing up captions for each image.
“Can I get you a drink, miss?”
I smile up at the server and decide on something that comes in a pineapple. Another great, if somewhat cliché, image. But Maggie’s sort of cliché anyway, and she’s really the person I’m doing this to please. Sure, my fans will like it, but they won’t hound me the way she will.
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
It’s delivered in such a sharp, nasty tone that I can’t help but look up and around to see who said it.
A guy is pacing back and forth on a path leading to the pool. He’s scrubbing a hand through his hair, to the point where it’s sticking up in blond spikes. He’s talking on a phone.
Yelling into a phone, more like it.
“You had weeks to tell me that. Weeks. How do you think this is going to look? What do you mean, you don’t care? I already paid for everything! Do you even know what this is costing me? Do you think I have all this money to throw around? Yeah, he’s paying for me, but I was paying for you. What difference does it make? You could’ve at least gotten a free vacation out of it.”
He lets out a bark of a laugh. “You? Not wanting something for free? Since when? Fucking hell.”
By now, there are people eyeing him up with disgust. It’s not a pretty sight or sound, watching and listening to a full-grown man having a meltdown.
“Fuck off, Linds.” He shoves the phone into his pocket before letting out a few more choice words at a significant volume.
Which, of course, is when I have to say something. “Hey. There are other people in the world besides you. You’re being rude.”
That leaves a few people snickering and nodding in agreement, which gives me more courage.
It also earns me an absolutely filthy look from him.
“Was I talking to you?”
“I don’t know. Were you? You were practically screaming, so, yeah, you could’ve been talking to me.”
“Mind your business.”
“Keep your business to yourself, and I’ll mind mine. How about it?”
He’s halfway to the table by the time I realize I’ve really done it. Why not dance a jig in the middle of a minefield? I don’t know this man from Adam, yet I’ve gone and made him mad.
And he’s on his way over to me.
Until Hayley intercepts him.
“Briggs! Just the person I wanted to see!” She
hurries over and gives him a hug around the neck. “Thank God there’s somebody else here who I can actually stand to spend more than a minute at a time with!”
Briggs.
This is Briggs.
Also known as the best man. Also known as the guy I’m supposed to meet, form a connection with, and, if Maggie has her way, engage in sweaty, rum-fueled sex with.
The guy who looks like he would gladly strangle me once he’s finished strangling the girl he just screamed at over the phone.
Of.
Freaking.
Course.
CHAPTER FIVE
It’s clear Hayley has no idea what she missed just before she got to the pool.
She has no idea the super-nice, awesome, friendly guy she’s so sure I’ll hit it off with is basically a jerk with no sense of how to behave himself in public.
“Come on. Have a seat with us! I’ve been dying to introduce you to my best friend. I think I mentioned her to you over Christmas, when we met up at the party. Do you remember?”
Briggs looks dazed, but then he would now that Hurricane Hayley has taken control of the situation. Now that she’s here, he’s a different person. The man she thinks he is.
“Yeah, now that you mention it, I do remember you talking about a friend who’s a writer.” He looks me up and down with eyes roughly the color of the water in the pool.
It’s a shame he’s got those eyes and that golden hair and a jaw sharp enough to cut glass.
Because he’s repulsive on the inside.
“Kellen Briggs.” He holds a hand out to shake, giving me a look that says I’d better play along for the time being.
So, I do. “Kitty Valentine. So, your name is Kellen. Hayley couldn’t remember when I asked.”
She laughs, of course, though it’s a little tight. A little forced. I’m not playing as nice as she wishes I would, but then she has no idea what I witnessed from this dude.
“Yeah, all my life. There were three Kellens in our friend group in school, so everybody started calling me by my last name and then shortened it.” He sits across from me with Hayley at my right since there was no chance of him getting away. Not with her tugging his arm the way she was.