by Elks, Carrie
James had a vague recollection of seeing something, but no doubt it had ended up in the trashcan along with all the other invitations he received. He shrugged. “Probably not.”
The Silver Sands Resort was down the coast from James’ cliff top house, on the outskirts of the small town of Angel Sands. He’d lived there for years, ever since he’d proposed to Sara, and in spite of everybody’s entreaties, he’d refused to move after she’d passed.
Why would he want to? That place was all he had left.
It had also afforded him a close-up view of the renovation of the Silver Sands Resort. Originally built in the 1920s, in its heyday the sprawling beachside hotel had been the hideaway of many Hollywood actors and actresses. When James had first moved to town it had been derelict, but for the past two years Carter Leisure had been renovating it back to its former glory.
And now it was ready to open – and Angel Sands was about to have the party of the year.
“Why not come? You’re not on shift, are you? And there’s free drinks all night for everybody. I hear half of Hollywood’s coming down to celebrate.” Rich winked. “You might get lucky.”
James shook his head and laughed. He wasn’t looking to get lucky; hadn’t felt anywhere near lucky for years. Luck was something he used to have, along with a wife and child that had lit up his life. But it all disappeared in a heartbeat.
“Maybe I’ll just get lucky with a bottle of Jack instead.” James raised his eyebrows. “You can have all of Hollywood to yourself.”
“Nah ah. I’m not letting you off that lightly. Come on, get out and show your face for once. How long’s it been? Three years?”
“Something like that.”
“I’ll pick you up at eight,” Rich told him.
“I won’t be ready.”
“Yeah you will. We’ll hit the party for a couple of hours. Get our free cocktails and nose around the place. And if Jennifer Lawrence wants me to spin her around on the dance floor…” Rich grinned. “I’ll ask her if she has a best friend for you.”
“Don’t do me any favors.”
“Eight sharp. And it’s black tie.”
“Sounds wonderful.” James lifted an eyebrow. But maybe the thought of going out was preferable to the idea of staying at home all night. It didn’t matter how many glasses of whiskey he drank, the ghosts and the memories always remained. At least when he was out he didn’t have to think about them. “I’ll think about it.”
* * *
His home was a brick-and-glass, one-story building on the edge of the cliffs overlooking Angel Sands. He pulled his Mercedes onto the sandstone driveway leading to the low profile bungalow, pressing his foot on the brake and sliding the stick into park.
A car was already there. An old Toyota he never could persuade his parents to replace, no matter how many times he offered to pay for the upgrade. As soon as he climbed out of his own car, his father opened his own car door, smiling in greeting as he reached into the passenger side to grab something.
“Don’t shoot the messenger,” he said, his eyes warm as he surveyed his son. “But your mom’s worried about your diet, so she made you a casserole.”
James’s lips twitched at the size of the dish. It could easily feed four and still have food left over for the next day. “What does she want me to do, explode?” A smile broke out on his face as he took the dish from his dad and bumped him with his shoulder. “I’ll call later to thank her.”
“That would be good. She worries about you.” His dad didn’t add that he worried, too, though it was obvious from the way he was looking at James. Checking him up and down, making sure he was well, the same way he used to after a Friday night football match.
“You want to come in?” James asked his dad, inclining his head at the front door. “I can put some coffee on.”
“No no. I need to get back. Your mom made another of those casseroles for us.” Even though he refused the invite, his dad didn’t seem in any hurry to leave. He leaned on the post below the porch overhang, crossing his arms as a smile played around his lips. “How was work?”
“Pretty good. I had a six-hour spinal fusion. Checked on the patient before I left and she’s doing well. Should be up and walking in a couple of days.”
His dad’s eyes gleamed. “It never fails to amaze me what you can do with those hands. You have your mother to thank for those. And all those piano lessons she forced you to take.”
“Yeah.” James smirked. “I’m really thankful for those.”
“And are you taking care of yourself?” his dad asked. “Getting out and seeing people?”
“Is this you asking or is it mom?” James could hear her now, telling his dad exactly what questions she needed him to ask.
“We worry about you, son. It’s been almost three years.” His dad cleared his throat, shifting from one foot to the other. “I know you miss them. We all do. You’re not the only one who lost people they love that day.”
James felt his chest tighten, the way it always did when they tried to talk about that overcast Monday three years ago. It had taken so long to get his thoughts away from that day. Years of therapy to be able to sleep without seeing her drift away from him on that hospital bed. He didn’t want to think about it, talk about it, do anything except blot it out of his mind with a tall glass of whiskey.
“I am getting out and seeing people,” he half-lied. “I’m going to the opening of the Silver Sands Resort on Saturday.”
Well that was one decision made.
“You are? That’s great.” His dad leaned toward him. “Are you, ah, taking anybody?”
“Let’s not push things too far, I’m going with Rich. Though I’m almost certain I won’t be with him for long. He’s heard rumors of Hollywood actresses attending.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m glad you’re getting out. Your mom will be, too. We want you to be happy. You’ve got a long life ahead of you. You’ve beaten yourself up for long enough.” He patted James on the shoulder. “I should get back. Your mom was warming up the casserole as I left.”
James nodded. “I’ll call her later, but tell her thanks for the food.”
“I will. And maybe you can come over on Sunday, tell us about the party. That would make us both happy.”
“If I’m not working, sure.” Not that there would be anything to tell. As far as he was concerned, he’d go, have a few free drinks, and slink off as soon as Rich was occupied by somebody else.
But maybe it’d be better than staying in on a Saturday night; there was only one way to find out.
3
“What’s this?” Harper asked, a smile ghosting her lips as she looked around the bungalow. The walls were whitewashed, covered with what looked like expensive one-off paintings hanging in tarnished golden frames. The floors were laid with marble tiles, but the most stunning thing was the bed. A four poster made of intricately carved dark wood posts, with shimmering voile curtains cascading down to the expensive white sheets pulled taut beneath a silver satin throw.
“It’s yours,” Caitie said, bouncing from foot to foot. “At least for tonight. Breck spoke to his friend Aiden, the hotel director. He was happy to comp you a place.”
“That’s so sweet.” Harper couldn’t help but grin. Breck was Caitie’s boyfriend and his company had carried out the resort renovations. One of the things she loved about Angel Sands was how everybody knew everybody. The thought that they arranged this for her made her heart swell ten times bigger.
“And we’ve booked you in at the salon for a facial and blow out. So leave your stuff here and let’s go.” Caitie reached for her hand, waiting patiently as Harper put down her case and slid her own palm into it. Then they pulled the door closed and headed up the pathway to the main hotel building.
Everything about this place was glamorous. From the perfectly kept gardens – filled with towering palm trees and lush azaleas in vibrant pinks and blues – to the marble statues and sparkling fountains peppering the grounds.
Cliffs towered above the resort, the Pacific Ocean in front of it, making it feel secluded and exclusive.
“Rumor has it Marilyn Monroe slept in that bungalow,” Caitie said, inclining her head to the low sandstone building they’d just left. “Maybe that’s where she met up with JFK.”
“It isn’t new?” Harper thought they’d razed the old buildings and built new, custom-made ones.
“Nope. The resort is renovated to match the old blue prints. They reused the same building materials where they could. According to Breck, they’ve updated a few things – added all the modern amenities where they weren’t before. But if you look around, it’s pretty much the same as it was back in the golden days of Hollywood.” Caitie grinned. “Once Marilyn escaped to here, and now you have. It’s kind of fitting.”
“As long as I don’t find a politician in the bedroom, I’ll be fine,” Harper said, unable to keep the smile from her face. God, she loved her best friend; Caitie always knew how to cheer her up. It used to be pizza and beer when she’d failed an assignment, now it was a glamorous stay in a brand new exclusive resort when she’d just been fired.
“Well, there’ll be plenty of politicians tonight. Along with a lot of celebrities, and pretty much all the inhabitants of Angel Sands. If you’re looking for your very own JFK…”
Harper laughed. “I don’t need any more complications in my life. Let me sort out my job first, then I’ll look for a guy.”
She slipped her arm through Caitie’s as they reached the iron-and-glass oversized doors leading into the main foyer. A bellhop, perfectly dressed in light blue livery, pulled them open and gestured them in. “Good afternoon, ladies. Welcome to the Silver Sands Resort. Please come inside”
As they stepped through the doors the sound of a string quartet echoed out. The four musicians were in the corner, perfectly dressed in black tuxedos and dresses, looking every bit as glamorous as their surroundings.
And as the sweet melody caressed Harper’s ears, she felt all her worries melt away. “Thank you,” she whispered to her friend, pulling her in for a hug. “This is perfect.”
Caitie hugged her back. “It’s a pleasure. I’ve got a feeling this is going to be a night neither of us will forget.”
* * *
By the time Harper had finished in the salon, it was time to get dressed. When she got back to the bungalow nestled in the trees, she found Caitie waiting for her with a glass of champagne, along with her sister-in-law, Ember, and her friends, Ally and Brooke.
She’d met them before when she’d visited Angel Sands, and they welcomed her like old friends, giving her hugs, commiserating with her about her job – and most importantly – making sure her wine was topped up.
“Another job will come along,” Ember told her. Caitie’s sister-in-law was full of warmth – made warmer still by her pregnancy. She was almost four months along and glowing with it. “Look at Ally. When her dad sold the beach café she thought she was out of a job. But then she met her new boss and fell in love. One door might have slammed shut, but the new door was so much better.”
“You make it sound so easy,” Ally said, raising her eyebrows. “It wasn’t quite that simple. It took a broken ankle and having to stay with him and his daughter for weeks before I realized there was something between us.”
Ember rolled her eyes. “She’s so unromantic. But all I’m trying to say is that when we reach our rock bottom the only way is up; and quite often the climb is a beautiful one.”
Harper smiled at her. “I hope so. It has to be better than the hole I’m in now.”
“You’re not supposed to be thinking about that tonight,” Caitie reminded her, topping up her champagne glass. “Tonight is about glamor and beauty. Let’s not talk about holes.”
Brooke’s phone buzzed. “It’s also about actually getting to the party,” she said, her lips curling up as she glanced at her screen. “Aiden wants to know where we all are. The guys are getting jittery.”
A moment later, Ally’s phone buzzed, followed by Ember’s and Caitie’s, and they all started to laugh. “I think that’s our signal,” Ally said, shaking her head with amusement. “Let’s head over before they send out a search party.”
Ten minutes later they were walking into the ballroom of the Silver Sands Resort. It was already full-to-bursting with glamorous guests; the women clad in sparkling dresses, the men dashing in their jet black dinner suits. On the stage an old-fashioned swing band was playing, the singer crooning softly into the microphone as a few couples danced in the center of the room. As they made their way across the shining tiled floor, Harper recognized a few faces. Actors and politicians, mingled with reality stars and sports personalities. The buzz in the room was electric, and she couldn’t help but feel it too.
“There they are,” Brooke said, pointing over at a group of ridiculously handsome men. Harper had to look twice – she knew Breck and his friends quite well, but she’d never seen them dressed up for an event like this before. In their jeans and t-shirts they were good looking enough, but dressed in black suits they were glorious. And attracting a lot of female glances.
“Hey baby,” Breck said, sliding his arm around Caitie’s waist. “What do you think?”
“It’s amazing.” Caitie grinned and brushed her lips across his cheek. “You did a wonderful job.”
As the contractor responsible for renovating the resort, Breck had worked tirelessly to hit the deadlines the owners had set. One of who was standing next to him – Aiden, Brooke’s fiancé.
Harper watched as her friends embraced their men. Ally and her boyfriend, Nate – the gorgeous owner of the Déjà Brew chain, and father to a teenage daughter, laughed together, as Lucas, Caitie’s firefighter brother, swept Ember into a big hug. Aiden ordered them all another round of drinks, then kissed Brooke and told her how beautiful she looked.
It was impossible not to smile at their obvious adoration for each other. But Harper’s heart clenched a little, too. Because that feeling of belonging with someone, of always having them by your side, it was something she’d never have.
Maybe she never would.
“Is this where the single people are supposed to stand?” a deep voice asked her.
She turned with a grin to see Griffin and Jack standing next to her. Griff was the captain of the whaling ship that sailed daily in the summer from Paxton’s Pier, and along with Jackson, an owner of an up-and-coming tech company, they’d grown up with Lucas and Breck, and were still their best friends.
“Griff.” Harper smiled at him. “I didn’t recognize you. You scrub up well.” It was an understatement. Griff usually preferred to dress down, and was known to have a very distant relationship with his razor. He was the most laid-back person Harper had ever met. When he wasn’t working, he was usually surfing. The man lived for the Pacific Ocean.
Griff looked down at his dinner suit. “Thanks. I asked if I could get away with jeans, but apparently the answer was no.”
“Brooke was just worried about you smelling of fish,” Jackson said, grinning at him. “And anyway, you’ve only worn that suit at Lucas and Ember’s wedding before. Now you’re getting your money’s worth.”
Griff pulled at the collar. “Yeah, and I’m counting down the hours until I can get out of it.”
“Stop griping and start drinking,” Lucas suggested, handing them both a beer. “Can I get you anything?” he asked Harper.
“I’m good.” She smiled at him.
As the evening continued, the group became more raucous, and Harper found herself laughing out loud at the banter between the men. She even managed to dance a couple of times – first with Griff and then with Breck, before the music got slower and more romantic.
By ten o’clock all her friends were dancing, their faces illuminated by the soft light of the crystal chandeliers overhead. Harper was sitting at a table in the corner, her champagne glass empty once again, and she could feel the worries she’d managed to ignore for a few hours racing back in
to her mind.
“You okay?” Caitie asked, as she and Breck danced past her.
Harper smiled. “I’m good. I might go and get some fresh air.”
“You want me to come with?”
She shook her head. “No. You keep dancing.” She didn’t want to spoil Caitie’s fun with her melancholy. “I’ll be fine.”
As she walked toward the terrace, she could smell the salty air of the ocean wafting in through the open glass doors. Tiny sparkling lights were strewn across the deck and nestled in the foliage of the trees and bushes like fireflies sending out a mating call.
She was about to step out when she saw another door. According to the etching on the glass, it led to a saloon bar. Maybe she’d go grab another drink to take outside with her.
She was determined to have a good time. Tomorrow she’d worry about the mess that was her life, but tonight was all about having fun.
* * *
“Can I have another, please?” James slid his glass across the dark oak counter. The barman caught it and poured him a double whiskey. James slid a bill back at him – though the drinks were free the tips weren’t – and he could just about remember how hard it was to work behind a bar. It was how he’d paid his way through college.
He lifted the glass to his lips and took a sip, feeling the amber liquid heat his tongue. Mellowness washed over him as he swallowed, making his muscles feel loose and relaxed for the first time in forever.
He’d been at the party for a couple of hours. Enough to wander around the grounds, greet old friends, and let himself be seen. Though there had been some sympathy in people’s eyes as they asked him how he was doing, he’d managed to keep the smile painted on his lips for long enough that they didn’t press him.
He didn’t want to talk about how he was, wasn’t sure of the answers to their unasked questions. His emotions were mercurial, waxing and waning depending on how long he decided to let himself wallow. Who wanted to talk about that at a party?