Just Like Love (Just Like This Book 2)

by Rebecca Gallo

  I rolled my eyes and took one sip before setting the glass down on a table nearby. “Excuse me,” I said politely but tersely and left.

  Within minutes, my head started to swim and everything around me pulsed and swirled. I made it to a grouping of tables and chairs set up on the property under a tall oak tree and sat down. My head throbbed, and my mouth felt like cotton.

  “Garrett?” Anderson’s voice sounded far away. I squinted and looked around to see that he was closer than expected. “Are you okay, buddy?”

  I shook my head. My body felt thick and heavy, and all I wanted to do was lie down.

  “Jesus, buddy. How much of your own stock have you had to drink?”

  “None,” I choked out. “One sip.”

  “Fuck,” he hissed. He patted me on the back and said, “I’m going to get you some help. Just wait right here.”

  I nodded, trying to keep my head up. A few minutes later, hands grabbed at me and helped me up. I stumbled back into the production room and slumped against the wall until I slid to the concrete floor.

  “You won’t remember a thing,” a distant female voice said as hands grasped my belt buckle and tugged it open.

  She was right, whoever she was. I remembered nothing after that moment.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Cami

  I hadn’t seen Garrett in more than an hour since he’d headed to the production room with his father. Since then, he’d been MIA. I caught sight of his father talking to various groups, but Garrett was uncharacteristically absent.

  I approached Oliver and Tabitha and asked them if they had seen Garrett.

  “No, we haven’t,” Oliver said. “I’m sure he’s just taking a break. He’s never really liked big parties.”

  I relaxed a little. I remembered how the crowd at the Coldplay concert we’d attended together had made him nervous. I headed toward the house to search for him. If Oliver was right, he would be sitting in the overstuffed armchair in our bedroom, which seemed to be his favorite spot to unwind whenever he was feeling particularly anxious. But our bedroom was dark and the chair empty.

  My stomach clenched. Something wasn’t right. I decided to head toward the production room. Maybe he was talking to one of the local vintners about their equipment and got lost in the conversation. I felt my phone buzz in my clutch and immediately pulled it free. Maybe he was texting me to meet up for a little mid-party tryst. But the message was from Palmer instead.

  I scoffed and ignored it. I didn’t want to be sucked into whatever drama he was trying to start.

  The closer I got to the production room, the heavier my stomach felt. I stopped short when I saw Nikki quickly walk out of the room and head up toward the party. Immediately, I picked up my pace. When I rounded the corner in the production room, Garrett was passed out on the floor, his pants open and the front of his shirt unbuttoned. There were unmistakable red smudges on his collar and he reeked of whatever god-awful perfume Nikki had doused herself in.

  “You have got to be kidding me,” I said through clenched teeth. I reached into my clutch for my phone, prepared to call Oliver for help because I wasn’t going to be able to lift a man of Garrett’s size, but the notification of Palmer’s message glared at me from the screen.

  I unlocked the screen and opened the message.

  PALMER: Sometimes you just can’t teach an old dog new tricks. I’m sorry he hurt you.

  After his message, he sent a series of pictures of Nikki and Garrett, tangled in a heated embrace. Her mouth plastered all over him, including his dick. Another message popped up.

  PALMER: The truth is ugly, isn’t it?

  ME: Go to hell.

  I screamed in frustration because how could this even be happening? How could he have let Nikki put her hands and mouth all over him? The pictures were like a car wreck. No matter how much I wanted to delete them, I kept looking at them.

  Garrett groaned to life below me and his hands cradled his head. “My head is pounding,” he moaned. His eyes flicked up, two dark slits staring straight at me. “Cami? What are you doing here?”

  I snorted with disgust. “I might ask you the same thing, but I think I already know.”

  “What are you talking about?” He rubbed his head slightly and looked around the room with confusion.

  “Maybe you should put your dick away first before we have this conversation.”

  Garrett glanced down at the open fly of his tuxedo pants. He immediately fixed the problem and then tried to scramble to his feet. “Cami, please. You don’t think … you can’t think …”

  But I was gone before he could slur his way through an excuse. I looked up, my vision blurry with unshed tears, to see Anderson Clark approaching.

  “Cami, have you seen Garrett? I’ve been looking all over for him,” he asked, his voice full of concern.

  “He’s down there,” I answered with a nod of my head.

  “Is he okay? When I saw him, he was blackout drunk, and when I came back with help, he was gone.”

  “He found someone else to help him,” I said bitterly.

  Anderson’s brow furrowed in confusion, and he pushed past me just as Garrett stumbled from the production room.

  “Cami, wait,” Garrett called out hoarsely.

  But I wasn’t waiting because the heavy, sinking feeling in my stomach had morphed into full-blown nausea. I raced toward the house and into the nearest bathroom. For the next twenty gut-wrenching minutes, I sat on the cold tile floor, my beautiful dress pooled around me as I heaved the contents of my stomach into the toilet.

  “Cami,” Valerie whispered. I still clutched the rim of the toilet and turned my head to see her standing in the doorway, my mother right next to her. “We saw you come in here. Is everything okay?”

  I shook my head. “I’m not … I’m not feeling well.”

  “Cami, are you pregnant?” Val asked in a low voice.

  “Oh god, Val,” I moaned. “Don’t ask me a question like that.”

  “Well, you could be,” she insisted.

  “I’m on the pill.”

  “Oh, well, maybe it was something you ate. God, I hope you don’t get food poisoning at your own party.” There were moments when my sister was incredibly perceptive, but at this moment, I was grateful she seemed completely clueless.

  “Being on the pill means nothing,” my mother stated firmly as she pushed into the small bathroom. She placed her hands under my arms and helped me up before reaching for a washcloth and running it under cold water. “I was on the pill, and your father still managed to knock me up.”

  Valerie and I groaned in unison. This night was only getting worse. They both helped me to the bedroom where I changed out of my once pristine dress and into one of Garrett’s overly large T-shirts.

  “Don’t worry about anything,” Valerie assured me. “I’ll find Garrett and let him know you’re here.”

  “No,” I said softly, grabbing her hand. My mother announced she was going to make me some tea while Valerie just stared at me. I reached for my phone, which had fallen from my clutch when I tossed it on the bed. Unlocking the screen, I showed Palmer’s messages to Valerie.

  “Are you serious?” Valerie breathed out. “Do you really believe Garrett would cheat on you like this? At your own party?”

  “I saw Nikki leaving the production room,” I told her. “And he was just sitting there, passed out on the ground with his dick out for all of the world to see!”

  Valerie scrunched up her nose. “Gross. But that doesn’t really seem like Garrett. I mean, come on, the guy is obsessed with you.”

  She stayed with me until my mom returned with a mug of steaming hot tea. “Don’t make any assumptions,” she told me softly. “I’d hate for you to do something you’ll regret.”

  But I didn’t make her any promises.

  Outside, the party continued without me. I couldn’t return and wouldn’t return as long as Palmer and Nikki remained. It was clear what Palmer’s motives were: to
divide Garrett and me and destroy what we’d worked so hard to build. They assumed it would be easy for me to accept what I saw as truth, that I would assume Garrett incapable of resisting Nikki’s seductive allure and revert to past behaviors. They underestimated me.

  It was still hard not to be angry with what I saw. I just didn’t know who to direct my anger toward. Should I be angry with Garrett for letting himself be vulnerable to Nikki? Undoubtedly, I was angry with Nikki. What made her think that she even had a chance with Garrett? I wondered if Palmer had somehow put her up to this since he clearly knew about her plan to seduce him. How else would he be able to send me those pictures?

  I sipped at the tea my mother had made for me while contemplating the night’s events. Why couldn’t anything ever be easy for us? Why couldn’t we have one moment of happiness all to ourselves? Life seemed always to be a struggle lately, and I had wrongly assumed that once Garrett returned, our life would be nothing but bliss. Sometimes my own naïvety astounded me.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Garrett

  “What the fuck is going on, Garrett?” Oliver demanded.

  I was sitting in the production room, chugging water, trying to regain my senses, and I was surrounded by Anderson, Avery, and now Oliver. All I needed was for my father to show up.

  “That’s what I’d like to know,” I told him.

  “Why don’t you tell us what you remember,” Avery urged me gently.

  “Dad and I came down here, and we talked. Just as I was leaving, Nikki showed up.” My memories were foggy, and I stuttered my way through what happened.

  “You don’t remember me approaching you?” Anderson asked, concern heavy in his voice.

  “Nope. And I don’t remember coming back here either.”

  “It sounds like you were drugged,” Anderson firmly.

  “Are you serious?” Oliver asked.

  Anderson shook his head. “Yeah. I’ve seen it happen a few times when I’ve been on leave. Luckily, the bastards never got the chance to leave with the girl.”

  I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of Anderson Clark’s ego showing up, but my head was pounding.

  “Who do you think did this?” Avery asked.

  “Palmer,” I hissed.

  Avery looked shocked. “Palmer? Are you sure?”

  “It had to be him. For some reason, he fucking hates me.”

  “Maybe we need to call the police,” Oliver suggested, but I held up my hand.

  “No! I don’t want to ruin the party. And don’t tell Dad either. Just give me a moment and I’ll be fine. Where’s Cami?”

  “I saw her head into the house a little while ago,” Oliver told me.

  “She found me. She thinks I actually let Nikki …” But I couldn’t say it. It hurt that Cami thought I was capable to doing something so disgusting. I’d never disrespect her by cheating.

  “So tell her the truth,” Anderson insisted.

  “I can’t tell her what I don’t remember.”

  “Then I’ll tell her! I saw you, and you weren’t yourself. Something was clearly wrong with you.”

  “I appreciate that, Anderson, but this is my problem. I’ll figure it all out.”

  “Stubborn asshole,” he muttered before leaving the small group gathered around me. Oliver left to go find Tabitha and our father, leaving me alone with Avery.

  “I can’t help but feel somewhat responsible for all of this,” he said quietly.

  “You’re not. There’s something fundamentally wrong with Palmer.” I took another drink of water. The effects of the drug were starting to wear off, and the pounding in my head was starting to lessen.

  “He approached me, Garrett. He suggested the trade, and I just took it without even thinking.” He placed his hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “I’m sorry, son.”

  I reached up and covered his hand with my own. “Thank you, Avery.”

  “I’ll give you the money to buy him out, no strings attached.” His voice was soft and low and wavered a bit. I looked up to see genuine concern etched on his face. He was always upfront and honest with me about how he ran his business. No emotions, no personal connections. If there was a deal on the table that benefited him, he often took it regardless of the parties involved. Some might criticize him for his shrewdness, but that was how my father ran the Hammond Wines empire too. Maybe I could learn something from them.

  “You don’t have to do that, Avery. I think Palmer will give me back his ten percent willingly once he realizes I’m taking pity on him.”

  “I wouldn’t,” Avery replied with a snort. “I’d ruin him completely.”

  “Don’t think I haven’t ruled that out.” More than anything, I was thinking about his parents, Tim and Lucinda Grayson. They were good people—kind, loving and welcoming—and I could only imagine how they would react once they found out what Palmer had done and how he had tried to hurt not only me but also Cami.

  “Garrett.” We both turned at the sound of Valerie’s voice.

  “What’s wrong?” I stood quickly and immediately regretted it because the room spun. Avery latched onto me and kept me steady.

  “It’s Cami. I think we need to take her to the emergency room.”

  I leaned on Avery as we walked up the house. It was ironic that a party was happening all around me while my life was once again thrown into chaos.

  “Find the event planner and shut down the party,” I instructed Valerie. There was no more cause for celebration.

  I kept a firm hold of Avery as we walked into the house. The event staff bustled around the kitchen, completely ignoring Avery and me. I made it down the hall to our bedroom and heard the unmistakable sounds of someone throwing up. The door to the attached bathroom was partially closed, and I could hear soft, murmured voices.

  I shuffled across the room and opened the door. Cami was doubled over on the floor with her mother beside her, whispering comforting words and stroking her back.

  “Cami,” I breathed out. I wanted to fall to my knees and crawl to her, but I still felt fairly weak and incapable of doing anything beyond standing and walking.

  Avery rushed forward and scooped Cami into his arms. “We can go in my car,” he said firmly.

  “What’s happening?” Cami’s mother asked.

  “Avery’s going to drive her to the emergency room,” I stated before collapsing against the wall. “Would you do me a favor? Could you find my brother?”

  I watched helpless as Avery carried Cami from the bathroom. That should be me. I had to ignore every instinct to protect Cami because I was too weak, because Palmer and Nikki had made me weak.

  Oliver rushed into the bedroom a few minutes later, breathless with worry. “What’s happening? The staff is instructing everyone to leave. Are you okay?”

  “I’ll be fine. It’s Cami. Avery is taking her to the emergency room.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know yet, but I need you to take me there.” My hands were balled into tight fists as I sucked in a sharp breath. Hot tears stung my eyes, ready to fall.

  “Come on,” Oliver said, helping me to stand. We walked to the front of the house where my father, Tabitha, and Valerie were all gathered. Guests streamed down the driveway, looking back at us with interest. We certainly gave them quite the party. The only faces absent from the crowd were Nikki and Palmer.

  “What’s going on?” my father demanded. “Where is Avery taking Cami?”

  “To the emergency room,” I told him.

  He took one look at me, and asked, “What’s wrong with you? You were fine a while ago.”

  “It’s a long story that I promise to tell you later. I really need Oliver to take me to the hospital so I can be with Cami.”

  “Well, then I’m coming with you,” he insisted.

  “Dad, just please stay with Tabitha.”

  He shook his head firmly. “No. She’s a part of our family, and no matter how angry I am with you for doing stupid shit like buyin
g your uncle Charlie’s vineyard and starting your own label without me, the Hammonds take care of their own. Now, let’s go.”

  “Yes, sir,” Oliver and I seemed to say in unison.

  The valet line was long, but the attendants and the guests waiting for their cars seemed to sense an emergency and let us retrieve our cars first. They all watched with concerned interest as we climbed into different vehicles and raced down the newly paved driveway.

  “Garrett,” my father said. “Tell me now.”

  I recounted what I thought happened after he left the production room. The memories were still fuzzy, but I found the more I talked about it, the easier it was to recall. I started to remember seeing Anderson as I walked back to the party, and I vaguely recalled him telling me to stay put. The rest after that was still a blur. I still had no idea how I managed to return to the production room on my own.

  “What a dirty son of a bitch,” my father growled.

  “Dad, don’t worry about me or Palmer, okay? We’ll figure it all out later. Right now, I need to focus on Cami.”

  He reached across the seat and grabbed my hand, holding it firmly in his. He closed his eyes, and his lips started to move, but I didn’t hear any sound. A moment later, his eyes opened, and he released my hand with a soft pat. I realized what he was doing – praying. I had only seen him pray a handful of times—mostly when my mother was sick—so seeing him pray now, for Cami, hit me hard.

  As I started to cry, my father reached over and placed his arm around my shoulder. He pulled me across the back seat and held me while I silently sobbed. I was terrified that something terrible was happening to Cami, and I was powerless to stop it. The feeling of helplessness was overwhelming, and I hated it.

  “You can’t control everything, son. You have to let God do his job.”