by Isabel Jolie
“Against Cyr Martin? How does that relate to you?”
“Against Cyr Martin and any individuals they deem to be a party to the various crimes.”
“Were you involved?”
“No.” I shook my head emphatically. “But my firm was the initial underwriter in his shell company. Our firm should have caught it. My managing director is currently camped out in Singapore. We’re expecting charges against him any day now.”
“And how does that involve you?” She pointed a well-manicured finger to my chest.
“I’m a hedge fund manager.” I paused to see if she understood or had questions. Her facial expression silently communicated Duh. “Okay. So, I invested in his fund. I also sold a day before the scandal erupted. But I swear I didn’t know. I went to a lot of Martin’s parties. The guy had enormous parties. Like, million-dollar mega parties all over the world. I liked the guy. We hung out. But I swear I had no inside information. Maybe at the beginning, but not when I sold.”
“Why’d you sell?”
And that right there was why I appeared culpable. I’d made tons of money off that investment. But I’d heard from a guy that one of their hotels had sat incomplete for almost a year. A friend told me one of the government leaders sold stock, and that guy was beyond close to Cyr. And I had another great investment opportunity. An inside source tipped me off that Google Alphabet might acquire them. I jumped on rumors. Which didn’t look good to the SEC, but having an ear to the ground was the hidden sauce to my investment strategy. I steepled my hands and met her sharp blue gaze head on.
“I saw the signs. I had an opportunity. I moved. My lawyers feel confident I’ll be cleared. The firm wants to distance themselves from me in case the Justice Department launches an investigation targeting me individually. That’s the real reason. The official reason is they want to allow me to focus on my defense.”
“Are you still employed?”
“It’s a paid leave of absence. But that managing director I mentioned?”
She nodded.
“He called last week, and they terminated his employment.”
“What will you do if they do that to you?”
“Live the beach life?” I held my hands up in the air and smiled, even though I felt nothing close to a smile. The whole situation burned me up and left me powerless. No other firm would touch me until this situation cleared. The only thing I could do was trust my lawyers when they said it would one day be behind me.
“That really sucks.” She reached out and squeezed my knee. Nothing in her attitude led me to believe she thought I was guilty. Every person in my office looked at me like I had to have done something wrong. Even my dad spoke encouraging words, but the unspoken message assumed guilt and that I might need him to call in favors. Poppy’s warm expression showed no judgement, like maybe she understood what it was like to have the world assume the worst about you.
“Thanks.” I stood and found my way to the back wall of windows. Turning my back to her, I feigned an interest in the outdoor view. I felt her watching, unabashedly studying me. Fine by me. I had her where I wanted her. “You’ll move in?”
“I’ve got four more weeks on my lease.” Her tone reeked of apology.
“Perfect. Plenty of time to plan the move.”
Chapter 14
Poppy
* * *
The wind picked up and whipped my hair as I opened the door. Thunderstorms loomed in the distance.
“Let me grab an umbrella,” I shouted to Gabe as I spun to re-enter my home. He caught my wrist.
“I’ve got it. And I drove the Garia. We’re safe.”
“Ah, yes, the ritzy cart.” The cart had doors—like, physical doors. A couple of year-rounders owned them, and I imagined they were quite nice in the rain, but on a sunny day, no, thank you.
“How’s your week been?” he asked as I settled in the seat, taking care to ensure my long, flowing skirt didn’t get trapped in the metal door.
“Good. Busy.”
“Any progress on the restaurant front?”
“I’ve been mainly focusing on my classwork and preparing for final exams.”
“They have exams? Isn’t it a seminar?”
“Well, you get a certification. And I’m sure they aren’t, you know, like college exams, but I still need to study. How was your week?” He’d tried several times to get together, but I kept putting him off. But me being me, I found it hard to say no to him, and so here we were on our first official date. A date I’d be so much more relaxed on if we were going as friends. That was how Ben and I worked it for four years. The friends thing had drawbacks, sure, but there was also a comfort to it.
“Fine. I’m doing the day trading thing. Keeps my mind fresh.” His sunglasses hid his eyes, but his response fell flat.
“You’re going out of your mind, aren’t you?”
He grinned. “Bored out of my fucking mind. There’s an airfield nearby, and I flew a few times this week, mostly over the South Carolina and Georgia coast. Found a hang-gliding place near Nags Head. I think I might try that next week.”
“There’s a SCUBA place in Wilmington. There are some cool wreck dives you can go on off the coast.”
“Do you dive?”
“No. I tried it out once. I got about ten feet down, panicked, and swam up. Pulled the instructor right up with me. He had me on this rope contraption.”
Gabe laughed. Not as hard as the others in my class that day, but he appreciated the disaster known as Poppy.
“Tate’s been pushing to go out to a wreck near here. I’m planning on it one of these days. I was going to join Luna and Tate last week, but the weather didn’t cooperate.”
“Aren’t they the happy couple these days?” Before Tate came along, Luna had been my go-to person. But life evolved.
“Happy for now.”
“What do you mean?”
He angled his head and gave me a look that said ‘come on now.’ “They’re cute together, but they’re going different places.”
“How so?” My defensive hackles raised. I didn’t care how helpful Gabe’s friend had been with my restaurant endeavor, razing my girl wouldn’t fly.
“Tate’s gonna end up in DC as a lobbyist or consultant. She’ll spend years combing the Caribbean, doing research and working on her PhD. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not faulting either of them. I think they’re both great people. It’s just with their age difference, they’re bound to follow different paths eventually. Doesn’t mean I don’t think they’re great together right now.”
I nodded in conversational agreement, but I felt heart heavy for my friend. The way she spoke about Tate, completely enamored, I didn’t think she viewed it as temporary. She’d actually moved in with Tate unofficially. It would be official in another few months when the residency house she’d been living in turned over to one of the summer interns.
Gabe’s fingers slipped some of my unruly frizz behind my ear, and his thumb brushed my cheek. “Hey, don’t get sad. I’d say they have a few years in them.”
“Yeah.” I gave him a half-smile and gazed off to my right, over the ocean. The sun lowered toward the horizon as our cart climbed the hill. “Does Tate see it the way you do? As a temporary thing?”
“We haven’t talked about it. Hey, forget I said anything. It’s assumption on my part. Definitely don’t go saying anything to Luna. Those two probably have every intention of being together forever.”
“You just don’t believe it’ll happen.”
“It’s a theory. Forget about it.” He slowed the cart at the Shoals Club entrance and pulled out his membership card to show to the person standing sentry. Once the attendant glanced at the piece of plastic and nodded him through, we bounced high over the speed bumps leading to the parking lot.
After parking, he rushed around to my side to open the door for me, just like a gentleman. Of course, like a southern floozy, I’d already half opened my door and had one leg out so I sort of straddled half
the seat. He didn’t seem to notice, but simply held the door and then closed it.
Inside Aqua, the ritziest restaurant on Haven Island, as we waited for the hostess, I remembered the one thing I needed to say. “Before I forget, thank you again for having your friend help me. He’s been amazing.”
“No problem at all.”
We were seated at a table in front of a window with a spectacular view. An array of yellows and pinks with hints of lavender colored the horizon, and all signs of the nearby storms had dissipated. Storms bypassed us all the time on the barrier islands.
The thin brunette who approached our table smiled in recognition. I introduced Kathleen, an old colleague from my bartending days, to Gabe.
“Nice to meet you. Are you visiting?” She zeroed in on the new meat, essentially forgetting my presence.
“No. I’m an island resident.”
“Oh. I’m surprised I haven’t seen you around. I thought I knew everyone.” She fidgeted with her notepad.
“Do you live on the island?”
“Sometimes. My parents have a place here. I also have an apartment in Wilmington.”
Kathleen, I remembered, lived a carefree life. Her parents did force her to get a job for spending money.
I breathed in deeply and stretched my fingers out wide beneath the table as they discussed Wilmington. Favorite things to do—or, well, the best bars. Flirting came naturally to the two of them, to the extent I considered suggesting Kathleen take my place at the table. Maybe my assessment wasn’t fair, but they did have a lot in common. It turned out she’d gone to undergrad at Penn, and he had friends who’d also gone there. The name game didn’t derive a common friend, but she shared that she also taught surf lessons on the weekends, and then they discovered our mutual connections, Tate and Luna. I finished my glass of water before Kathleen had gotten around to taking our order.
When she left to get our wine, Gabe leaned over the table in a conspiratorial fashion. “Do you not like her?”
“Kathleen?” I squeaked. “Yeah, she’s great. Nice girl. Worked with her a few years ago.”
He leaned back and draped his arm over the back of the empty chair next to him, too cocky and full of himself to take up the space of only one chair. “I got that part. You didn’t say a word.”
“I wanted to let the two of you get to know each other. You seemed to hit it off.”
He leaned forward again and placed both elbows on the table with an annoying smirk planted on his too-good-looking-for-his-own-good face.
“What?”
“You’re jealous. I hadn’t pegged you as the type.”
“I am not.” The heat cranked up, and I fanned myself, hoping my cheeks hadn’t turned red. If I blushed, it would give him way too much ammunition. “I need to go to the restroom.”
When I reached the bathroom, I discovered that, as feared, my cheeks radiated a horrid shade of magenta. And as luck would have it, I’d left in such a hurry I didn’t bring my clutch, so I had nothing to pat down the oily complexion shining back at me. Fuckety fuck.
I snagged a paper towel and blotted away. Get hold of yourself. Yes, he’s a good-looking guy. He’s been nice to you. But you aren’t exclusive. If he chooses Kathleen, or another girl like her, that’s okay. And Kathleen’s gorgeous. You can’t blame him. What did you expect? You made him basically beg for this date. And now he’s gone on a date, and of course he’s going to lose interest. You have to get your expectations set. You know better. Be strong.
The bathroom door swung open with my index finger mid thrust, scolding my reflection. The older woman gave me a funny look, and I waved my hand around wildly.
“There’s a fly in here.” Smooth, always smooth. With one last gulp of air, I returned to the table to finish the disaster of an evening.
Gabe held my phone up to me as I sat back down in my chair.
“I hope you don’t mind, but your phone started ringing. I lifted it out of your bag so I could put it on silent. This guy seems to want to reach you badly. He’s called a few times.”
I glanced at the screen before dropping it into my clutch.
“Sorry about that.”
“Is that part of the job?”
“Part of…? Oh, no. Ben’s an old friend. He’s been nagging me about coming to his bachelor party. He doesn’t seem to want to take no for an answer.”
“Well, if he’s inviting you to his bachelor party, you must be good friends. Where’s the party?”
“Louisiana. My home town. A small town I can promise you you’ve never been to.”
“I can’t say I know much about Louisiana. I’ve been to New Orleans.”
“That’s probably the only place in the state worth going to.”
“So, no plans to move back?”
“No.” Eager to change the subject, I held up my now full glass of wine. “Shall we toast?”
He held up his glass and beat me to the toasting punch. “To an unforgettable first date.”
“You’re a smooth one, Mr. Chesterton. Suave and debonair. I bet you have all the ladies eating out of your hand.”
“I know how to treat women well. I enjoy getting to know people. All kinds of people. And I have to say, I don’t think I’ve ever had the honor of getting to know someone quite like you.”
My throat closed up as I pushed my ribs in and out, forcing myself to breathe. The guy was seriously way too smooth. He leaned forward, and I slid my chair back a notch, feeling a bit like prey with a predator lurking, sizing up the kill.
Chapter 15
Gabe
* * *
The buzz of her vibrating phone piqued my curiosity. The low hum reverberated through the thin cloth material of her clutch. Her handbag lay resting on the side of the table, close to her beverage glass. I might have been losing my mind, but it appeared the vibration sent ripples through the sparkling water.
By the time our entrees arrived, I’d determined someone called her every two or three minutes. Was she a phone sex operator? Was that a part of OnlyFans I’d missed when reviewing the website? Were these calls from her supposed friend?
Her rounded cheeks bloomed pink, offsetting those gorgeous blue eyes. Her blonde hair fell in a mix of ringlets and loose curls. The longer strands fell over her decolletage, highlighting those ample breasts. She chattered on in a way that implied she might be nervous, and that ongoing blush gave the illusion of innocence. But she couldn’t be innocent. She made her money off nudes. Well, actually, not nudes. I checked her account regularly, and her images ranged from a TikTok fully clothed “here’s how to apply eyeliner” version to the occasional Sports Illustrated or Maxim sexy shot. How she had paying subscribers—that piece I didn’t understand.
“So, what brought you to Haven Island?” The question risked falling in boring first date territory, but given I’d been questioning my recent decision to move to this remote location, it remained on the tip of my tongue for any year-rounder.
She licked her lip, catching a slip of buttery sauce from her pan seared scallops. She dipped her head and dabbed those plush lips with her napkin, and I shifted in my seat, needing a readjustment. In an unsure tone belying her youth, she mumbled, “Excuse me.” I’d almost forgotten my question by the time she sipped her water, dabbed those lips once more, and got around to answering me.
“A friend of mine went to UNC-Wilmington, the school that’s over in Wilmington.” She pointed out the window, over the darkening ocean. I supposed she aimed to point in the direction of the mainland. I nodded for her to continue. “Well, I came here, and I loved it. I worked in Wilmington for a while at a restaurant, and then one of the waitstaff said something about openings at restaurants over here that paid well. I’m a small-town girl, and even though Wilmington isn’t exactly big, it has traffic, and it’s more or less a college town. There’s something peaceful out here on the island. It’s like being in another world. I can go over to Wilmington, or Southport, any time I like, but I love the day to day h
ere. Slow and easy. Do you know what I mean?”
“No,” I responded immediately and smirked as her mouth dropped into a delectable little oh. “I’m coming out of my skin. It’s too quiet. I can’t sleep.” I had thought I would experience what she described, but peace remained elusive.
“That doesn’t make sense,” she said, skeptical.
“I know. I came out here as a kid and it didn’t happen. It didn’t happen when I visited earlier.” Come to think of it, I couldn’t sleep back in New York at the end either. “But it’s as if the more time I spend here, the quiet is getting louder? Does that make any sense?” I could tell I confused her. “Anyway, Siri plays sleep sounds for me now. I found an option with city noises, you know, automobiles, sirens. It’s helping.”
Her phone vibrated once more. The name Drew flashed on the screen as she turned the phone to check it. The prior caller had been Ben. This one read Drew.
“Is it important?” I clenched and unclenched my fist, stretching out my fingers.
“No. They must all be out together tonight. Drinking.”
“So, these are the Louisiana friends?”
“I wouldn’t call them friends.”
Interesting. “How often do you go back?”
“Never.” She held down the off button. “I’m sorry. I thought they’d stop calling.”
“Does your family live there?”
“Some do, some don’t.” She sipped her wine. When she returned her glass to the table, her long fingers stroked the stem suggestively, and I had an entirely different visual of those fingers stroking something else. “What about you? Where’s your family?”
“All in Connecticut.”
“Is that far from where you live?”
“No. They basically live in the suburbs of the city. I see them quite a bit. Or I used to. My mother is threatening to visit soon. I think she misses our weekly lunches.”
“Tell me about her.”