by M. A. Foster
Jay swings open the closet doors. “Are you sure about that, Mimi?” she calls out with a chuckle as she steps inside the massive walk-in closet filled with clothing, shoes, and accessories from world-famous designers. I literally broke out in a nervous sweat when I shipped everything to my mother last month, hoping they wouldn’t be lost or stolen. Some of the items hold sentimental value, while others are irreplaceable.
My love of fashion came later in life, after I’d married Marcus. When you’re married to one of the biggest rock stars in the world and living in the fishbowl capital, you have to be prepared to have your picture snapped at any time. I have my cousin Lilly to thank for my fashion sense. She’d grown up in Los Angeles, so she took me under her wing and taught me all about how to blend in with the rich and famous. Even a nice handbag could complement a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. Marcus couldn’t care less what I wore, but the paparazzi weren’t so forgiving. He saw how I struggled with what to wear for big events, so he hired Lilly as my personal stylist and when I got my degree in PR, Lilly took on a bigger role as my assistant. Actually, she’s better at my job than I am at the moment.
“Why is she wearing sunglasses?” I ask my mother.
She shrugs. “Maybe she’s also having trouble adjusting.” She tosses out my words from earlier and I shake my head as Jay walks out of the closet.
“Jay, why are you wearing sunglasses inside?”
“My eyes hurt,” she replies. “I read Daddy’s note.”
My mother looks over at me with a horrified expression on her face. I hadn’t filled her in on Marcus’s decision to leave notes for Jay.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I pat the bed beside me.
She shakes her head. “No. I’m fine. Did you get one?”
“No.”
“Cole invited me to a party this afternoon.” She abruptly changes the subject.
“Oh?” I shoot my mother a pleading look. She responds with a short, subtle nod, silently telling me Jay will be fine.
“Yeah. It’s at his friend Brad’s house on the beach. He has one every year.”
I paste a smile on my face. “That sounds like fun.”
“I should probably go get ready,” she states as she turns to leave.
“No drinking,” I call out, and she responds with an automatic “I know” as she walks out of the room.
I reach for my phone to call Bass. I trust Cole to look out for Jay, but we’ve been here less than twenty-four hours and I need reassurance that she’ll be fine.
“Brad is Cece Manning’s youngest son,” my mother tells me. “He’s a really sweet boy.”
I set my phone back down. Cece Manning is an old friend of the family who used to babysit Max and me when we were kids.
“She has a son Jayla’s age? How many kids does she have now?” When I left Heritage Bay for California, Cece was already pregnant with her third child.
“Five,” she replies. “Her two youngest, Brad and Brooklyn, are only a year apart.”
“Would it be too much to ask Brad to watch out for her?”
“I’ll take care of it.” She winks. “So, what are your plans today?”
“First, I need to pick up my car.” My gaze darts over to the open bedroom door, then back to my mother. “Then I’m meeting with Jay’s new security guards. And later, Max is bringing the family over to hang out by the pool.”
“Why does she need more security? She’s safe here, and she has Bass.”
“Because I promised her she would have freedom, but that doesn’t mean I can’t have eyes on her at all times.”
“Poss, watch me!” Willow commands from the edge of the pool before she leaps into the water. Max and my nephew Aiden are standing in the water just a few feet away, cheering her on.
“I can’t believe she’s two already,” I say to my sister-in-law, Jessica, shaking my head.
“Two going on twenty-five,” she quips. “They grow up so fast.”
“Tell me about it.” My mother rolls her eyes, and my father hums in agreement.
The back door slides open and Jay steps out wearing a crochet cover-up that barely hits the middle of her thigh. Talk about growing up fast. Her skin is sun-kissed, and she looks a little worn from the day, but she immediately perks up when she spots Willow in the pool.
“Boo, I didn’t know you could swim,” Jay coos from the side of the pool.
“Why does she call her Boo?” my father asks.
I open my mouth to answer but realize I have no idea.
“Boo is a character from Willow’s favorite movie,” Jessica tells him. “Jay says Willow looks like her.”
“Ah. Got it.” He nods and returns his attention to Jay.
“Come wimmin wif me,” Willow commands.
“Okay, I’ll come swimming with you,” Jay says as she kicks off her sandals and pulls her cover-up over her head, tossing it on the empty lounge chair.
My father turns to me and narrows his eyes. “You let her leave the house wearing that? I hope you’re planning to hire more bodyguards.”
I bite down on the inside of my cheek and give a slight shake of my head in warning. I know my father doesn’t mean anything by it, but I won’t allow anyone to make my girl feel self-conscious. Jay has a beautiful body. She’s worked hard to gain back her weight, and she’s happy in her skin. And as long as she respects herself and conducts herself like a lady, then she can wear whatever the hell she wants.
Bass drops down on the edge of my lounge chair with his brows raised over the rims of his glasses, silently telling me to let it go.
“How’d it go today?” I ask, poking him in the ribs with my big toe. He hates when I do that.
Bass grabs my foot and tugs on my big toe. I yank my foot back. I hate when he does that. “She said she had a good time, but she’s acting a little off.”
“She’s probably tired. What did Brice say?” After Jay left for the party, my mother got in touch with the Mannings. Brice, Cece’s middle child, was more than happy to look out for Jay.
“He said she hung out with him and a girl named Lexi the entire time, and they seemed to really hit it off.”
“Where’s Cole?” Jessica asks.
Bass shrugs. “Still at the party, I guess.”
Standing from the lounger, I move to sit on the side of the pool. “How was the party, Jay?” I ask.
“It was fun.” She flashes me a tired smile. “One of Cole’s friends recognized me.”
My brows pinch. “How?”
She jerks a shoulder. “She just did. Her name is Lexi. Her boyfriend is Evan. He plays on the football team with Cole.”
“Evan Martinez.” Max nods and gives me a pointed look. “His dad is Jason Martinez,” he explains, and I relax. Jason owns the company that handles all the security on the island. The same company I just recently hired two additional guards from. “Lexi’s a trip,” Max says with a chuckle.
“She’s hot,” Aiden adds, and Jay splashes him before returning her attention to me.
“You’ll never believe who Lexi’s mom is.”
“Who?”
She rolls her lips between her teeth as if she’s keeping it a secret, then says, “Diana Cooper.”
My eyes nearly pop out of my skull. Diana Cooper is my favorite actress of all time. I actually met her once, years ago, at the Grammys. I practically fangirled all over her. Marcus thought it was hilarious, but I was mortified. “No shit?”
“Shit!” Willow parrots, and Aiden laughs.
Max shakes his head at me and I mouth, “Sorry.”
My mother moves to stand at the edge of the pool. “Baby girl, we’re gonna go to the Beach Club for dinner. You wanna come?”
Jay yawns. “No thanks, Mimi, I’m tired. You guys go. Willow and I will stay here and watch movies.”
“You’re sure?” Max asks.
Jay smiles at Willow. “Of course I’m sure.” She presses a kiss to Willow’s head. “You wanna hang out with me?”
/> Willow nods happily, and I smile at their little exchange. I think Jay is going to be happy here.
Emerson
Lisa’s Salon and Spa is located in a small plaza called The Square, which was the first shopping plaza to be built on the island of Heritage Bay. You’d never know it, though, because the row of buildings has definitely had a facelift in the past couple of years.
“Emerson!” Lisa rounds the reception desk and throws her arms around me. “I’m so glad you’re back. We have so much catching up to do.”
Lisa and I cheered together for Heritage Academy. Halfway through our senior year, Lisa dropped out because she’d gotten pregnant by her boyfriend, Felix, who was on the football team. Felix finished his senior year, and right after graduation, he left for Army boot camp. Three years later, Felix was killed overseas. I’d heard the news from my mother, who happened to run into Lisa’s mother. They exchanged numbers and since then, Lisa and I have stayed in touch.
“Definitely,” I agree before turning to Jay. “Jayla, this is Lisa. She and I went to high school together. Lisa, this is my daughter, Jayla.”
Lisa takes Jay by the hands and holds them out to get a good look at her. “She’s beautiful, Emerson,” she says as she pulls Jay in for a hug.
“And who are these gorgeous ladies?” a male voice singsongs.
We all turn our heads at once toward the voice as a young, handsome Latino man likely in his midtwenties saunters up beside us. He’s perfectly put together, from his trendy hairstyle down to his Prada loafers.
“Xavier, this is Emerson, an old friend from high school, and her daughter, Jayla.”
Xavier smiles as he gestures to Jay and me. “So, which one of these beauties do I get to play with today?” He shoots a playful wink at Lisa.
Lisa smiles and turns to me. “Xavier is my second-in-command,” she tells us, then directs her attention to Jay. “Jayla, from now on, Xavier will be taking care of you. Whenever you come in here, you only see him.”
Jay nods and smiles at him. “Got it.”
Xavier leads Jay toward the back of the salon, and they disappear into a private room behind a frosted glass door. Lisa leads me into the room next to it.
“This is nice,” I say, scanning the room that looks like a mini-salon. There’s a single station for hair, nails, and two pedicure chairs.
“We reserve the private rooms for special customers.” She winks.
“You mean so no one can hear the gossip,” I quip.
“Exactly.” She laughs. “How does it feel to be back?”
“Strange. Everything looks different.”
“Yeah, I felt the same way when I moved back, and a lot has changed since then.”
“How’s Junior doing?” Lisa’s son is named after his father, but Lisa calls him Junior.
“He’s doing wonderful. He graduated last summer summa cum laude and took a job with Merrill Lynch. He’s living with his girlfriend in St. Petersburg.”
“You should be proud of yourself, Lisa. Jay will be eighteen in two months and she’s going on tour next year. I hope I don’t fuck up this single mom gig.”
“You won’t. You have an amazing family, Emerson, and we’re all here for you.”
Lisa and I spend the next two hours catching up and making plans to have dinner next week.
On the way to the car, Jay’s attention is snagged by the thumping of bass coming from the building next door. “Juliette’s Dance Studio” is scrolled in gold across the dark tinted bay window.
“Can we go in there?”
I had considered trying to get her on the cheer team but honestly, my girl isn’t coordinated or patient enough for cheer. Her talent is in her mind and her fingertips, but a dance class would be a nice extracurricular activity. Something normal.
“Sure. Let’s check it out.”
Walking inside, we’re greeted by a middle-aged woman sitting behind a counter.
“Welcome, ladies. I’m Trina.”
She shows us to the waiting room, which consists of a couple of sofas and a one-way mirror. “Juliette is in the middle of teaching a pole-dancing class.”
There’s a group of about six barefoot women dressed in sports bras and spandex shorts. Each is standing beside a pole, mimicking the demonstration led by a tall, beautiful woman who is dressed similarly, her blonde hair pulled into a messy bun on top of her head.
“Oh that looks like fun. Can I sign up?”
I jerk my head to the side to see Jay’s eyes sparkling with excitement. “Absolutely not.”
Twenty minutes later, the class ends and Juliette comes out and introduces herself. If I had to guess her accent, I’d say Russian. She’s super sweet and suggests Jay try out the hip-hop classes on Wednesday evenings.
“Why wouldn’t you let me take the pole dance class?” Jay asks once we’re back in the car and heading to Mac’s for lunch with the family. “It’s just a dance class.”
“You’re lucky I even agreed to the hip-hop class.”
“Why? I’ve seen the way you dance, hoochie mama.”
I laugh and wave her off. “Oh be quiet.”
Max once referred to his restaurant as an upscale sports bar, so when I walk into Mac’s for the first time, I’m expecting memorabilia plastered all over the walls and peanut shells on the floor. But it’s nothing of the sort. It’s open and airy, and the décor gives it an island feel. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlook the water, with tropical fans hanging from the high ceilings. The floors are a shiny polished marble, the walls are light, and the doors are a heavy wood with palm leaves carved into them. A circular hostess stand, made of the same carved wood, is positioned in the center of the room, and behind it are two sweeping staircases leading to a second level. The place is extremely upscale.
A young girl about Jay’s age with a gorgeous shade of red hair approaches our table with a pad and a pen. She’s wearing khaki cuffed shorts and a black three-button polo with “Mac’s” embroidered in red on the left side. Her hair is pulled back into a messy bun, showcasing her bright green eyes.
“Harper,” Max says, gesturing to me. “This is my little sister, Emerson, my niece, Jayla, and this handsome sonofa—”
“Language,” Jessica warns. Her eyes cut over to Willow, who’s perched on Jay’s lap.
“—gun is Bass,” Max finishes.
Harper smiles. “It’s great to finally meet you.”
After lunch, Jay and I swing by to pick up her uniforms, then spend the rest of the afternoon shopping.
Nothing like a little retail therapy between mother and daughter. It was a good day.
Cam
“Something’s changed.” Jules sighs.
I throw an arm over my eyes. “I’m sorry, Jules.”
She rolls off me and onto the bed. Grabbing the sheet, she holds it to her chest and scoots her back against the headboard.
“I can’t do this anymore.” I roll off the bed and make my way to the bathroom to dispose of the condom.
“Me either.” Jules releases a heavy sigh. “I met someone,” she tells me as I pull on my boxer briefs and crawl back into bed.
I roll to my side and prop my head in my hand. “Oh yeah?”
She nods, lowering her head and mindlessly picking at the sheet. “It’s new. We haven’t even been out on a real date yet, just coffee a few times.”
“Is he from here? Do I know him?”
“Probably.” She shrugs and breathes out a soft laugh. “Everyone knows everyone and everything around here.” She rolls her eyes. “Your neighbors probably know we’re having sex.”
“My neighbors definitely know we’re having sex,” I tease. “And if they don’t, then I’m not doing it right.”
“Cameron.” I duck my head and laugh when she reaches out and smacks me on the shoulder.
I grin. “I’m kidding, Jules. Speaking of neighbors, Emerson is back in Heritage Bay.”
“I know.” She clears her throat. “She came into the studio with her
daughter this afternoon.” A smile pulls up one side of her mouth. “She’s beautiful, Cameron. I can see why you love her.”
“She is,” I agree. “But it’s not her looks, Jules. It’s just her.” I drop my head and roll onto my back. “I can’t even tell you what I love the most about her, because I love everything.”
“She gives you the butterflies,” she reminds me. She’d said the same thing to me ten years ago. And it’s the truth. Emerson gives me butterflies from head to toe. “She’s a lucky woman.”
I disagree. Emerson isn’t lucky. She’s been through hell, and the last thing she needs is her little brother’s lovesick best friend chasing after her. What she does need is a friend.
I roll my head to the side. “Are you gonna tell me who this mystery guy is, or am I gonna have to follow you to the coffee shop?”
She chuckles. “His name is Chris Wells. He’s a doctor.”
The fuck?
I sit straight up and twist to face her. “No,” I snap.
Her head whips to the side. “Wha—”
“He’s married, Jules.”
“Divorced,” she states matter-of-factly.
“Since when? And how come I haven’t heard anything about it?”
Her face scrunches up, obviously irritated. “Why would you?”
“Because his wife is my sister’s best friend.”
“Oh.” She lowers her head, and now I feel like a total dick for bursting her little bubble of happiness.
“Jules.” She turns to look at me. “I can’t tell you who to date, but you deserve better than to be someone’s side piece.”
She scoffs. “I didn’t have sex with him.” Tossing the sheet to the side, she slips out of bed and begins plucking her clothes from the floor. “And that’s rich coming from you.”
“What are you talking about? I’ve never treated you like a side piece.”
“What do you call this?” She gestures toward my bed.
“Sex between two friends who care deeply for each other,” I answer without hesitation.
She nods as she slides her panties up her muscular legs, covering her tight, toned ass.