Cheap Trick: A Dawson Family Novel

by Goodwin, Emily

  “It wasn’t about letting the world know,” I start before she has a chance to start rambling. I run my fingers down Danielle’s arm, and my heart speeds up. Angling my body toward hers, I reach out with my other hand and push her messy hair over her shoulder. “It was about not being able to wait another day to let Danielle know how much she means to me.”

  The words come out easily but leave a bad taste in my mouth. I’m acting, yet I’m not, and the weird disassociation from the truth is enough to make me dizzy.

  “I had a whole big thing planned,” I go on. “I was going to ask during our town’s annual Fourth of July fireworks show. But like I said, I got impatient. I knew from the moment she walked into my bar at one AM on a Thursday that she was perfect for me.” I let my hand drop, and I take both her hands in mine, getting lost in her sea-green eyes. She gives my hands a squeeze and blinks rapidly, almost as if she’s trying not to cry.

  I don’t know if she’s acting or not.

  “Oh, how romantic,” Peter’s mother swoons. “And how thoughtful of you two to keep the news to yourselves until after the wedding.”

  “I try.” Danielle nervously laughs. I lace my fingers through hers and give her hands a squeeze. She has nothing to be nervous about. I’ll make sure we get through this. “Are you going down for breakfast already? I thought it was later.”

  “It is, but we were on our way down to get mimosas and get some sun before our reservation and thought we’d see if you’d like to join,” her mother says. “I called.”

  “You did? We must have slept right through it.”

  “Up late?” Diana slightly narrows her eyes, and I can’t tell if she’s trying to be condescending or make a joke. There’s a good chance not even she knows the difference between the two.

  “We got in at like two or three AM. Yeah, we were up late.”

  “And then up a little later. I can’t keep my hands off this one.” I pull Danielle close to me, and her eyes widen as she tries not to laugh. Her mother looks at us disapprovingly and Diana’s eyes narrow again.

  “Try to keep it classy, Danielle. We’ll be downstairs whenever you’re ready. Don’t be late to breakfast,” her mother says. “It was nice to meet you, Logan. I look forward to getting to know you better before you become part of the family. Danielle’s father does too.”

  They turn and filter out of the hotel room, shutting the door behind them.

  “I can’t keep my hands off this one?” Danielle hisses, shaking her head as she goes back to the bed. “Seriously?”

  I shrug. “We’re very much in love. Though really it would be the other way around.” I turn to the mirror and flex the muscles in my chest. “I mean, look at me. How you’re resisting me right now, I’ll never know.”

  Danielle’s cheeks flush, and she looks away. “I…I should get ready.” She grabs her stuff and goes into the bathroom. I grab my phone and go onto the balcony, taking a few pictures to send to Owen so I can remind him that I’m here on a mini vacation while he’s stuck at home working double shifts to fill in for Danielle and me. He responds right away.

  Owen: You woke me up, cocksucker.

  Me: Just “me”? You’re alone tonight?

  Owen: Fuck no. Wendy. Or Wanda? Hell if I know. Is still passed out. Did you fuck Danielle yet?

  Me: How’s Dexter? Did you remember to feed him?

  Owen: You measured his food in baggies and left them on the counter. And labeled them for each day.

  Me: Is that too hard for you?

  Owen: Fuck you. And you didn’t answer me. Did you put the P in the V??

  Me: You need to grow the fuck up. And no.

  Owen: Make me proud. Get out of the friendzone.

  I lock the screen on my phone and set it down, looking out at the beach. It’s early, but a lot of people are out there already.

  “I’ll do my makeup out here,” Danielle says from inside the room. “So I’m not hogging the bathroom.”

  I get up and go back inside. “Wow.” It’s all I can do to keep my jaw from dropping. “You look beautiful.”

  Danielle wrinkles her nose and looks down at the dress. It’s light pink, low-cut, and flows around her legs when she walks. “I don’t look like I’m trying too hard to be on a tropical vacation?”

  “You are on a tropical vacation.”

  She laughs. “Well, thanks. You better look good too, Dawson. I need to show off my arm candy.”

  I get my shit and go into the bathroom to get ready. I’m done before Danielle and take my book onto the balcony to read. Half an hour later, Danielle’s hair is curled.

  “This is why I don’t curl my hair that often.” She runs her fingers through it and looks in the mirror. “I have too much hair. Sometimes I consider chopping it all off.”

  “That’d make your sister happy.”

  She lets out a snort of laughter. “Right?”

  I stick my phone and wallet in my pocket and lead the way out of the room. Neither of us talk as we walk down the hall and into the elevator. I take another look at Danielle once we get in, crowding to the back as another family pushes in with several large suitcases.

  Danielle reaches up with her left hand, pushing her curls back and the ring gets stuck in her hair.

  “Hang on,” I tell her, angling my body toward hers and cupping my hand around her fingers. Danielle is wearing heels today like she usually does, but I’m still several inches taller than her. I look at the ring, seeing several strands of hair stuck under the little brackets that hold the fake diamond into place.

  I move my gaze to her face…to her long lashes and her brilliantly bright eyes. And then to her lips that are parted and covered in dark pink lip gloss. If I look farther down, I’ll see the swells of her breasts under her dress and will remember all too well how she looked this morning.

  “Ow!” She winces, and I realize I just pulled her hair. Clearing my throat and forcing myself to focus on the task at hand, I carefully untangle her hair until she’s free. “I’ll try to remember not to do that again.”

  “Show off the ring and then take it off,” I suggest. “Say you’re worried you’ll lose it on the beach or something.”

  “Good idea.”

  The elevator stops on the main lobby and everyone gets out. It takes us a while to figure out where to go since this place is fucking huge. I spot Danielle’s mother and sister right as she comes to a dead stop.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask, turning and seeing her wringing her hands.

  “It’s the whole fucking bridal party.”

  “Yeah? They’re here for the wedding.”

  She shakes her head. “I know…it’s…it’s just who’s in it.”

  “Bad history?”

  Her eyes close in a long blink. “Not really. It’s just…it’s stupid. I’m an adult and shouldn’t worry about these things, right?”

  “I don’t want to agree or disagree until I know the full story.”

  Danielle lets out a breath. “I shouldn’t care anymore. I…I don’t want to care anymore. I’m a grown woman. I’m happy. I like my life in Eastwood, and while I would maybe go back and do a few things differently, I like to believe what Grandpa says. What happened yesterday is the reason for where I am today. Good or bad, you can’t change the past.” She nods. “You can only accept that all you have is your next choice. And I’m choosing not to give a fuck.”

  I tip my head, watching her wring her hands. “I think that was the start to a motivational speech, but I’m a little fucking confused.”

  Her eyes flutter shut, and she lets out a deep breath, trying hard to relax. What the hell is going on inside her head right now?

  “Those girls have been my sister’s friends for years. I know them, and they know me. And trust me when I say they make Regina George look like a saint.”

  “It’s your fault I understand that reference.”

  Her lips curve into a small smile. “It’s a good movie. I can’t believe you’d never seen it befo
re. But that’s not the point. The point is, with that group of plastics, where you went to grad school and how many country clubs you’ve been to in the last year is all that matters.”

  “So, you’re saying they’re not going to be impressed with a bartender from Eastwood?” I rub my hands together. “I’m going to have fun with this.”

  More tension leaves Danielle’s shoulders. “They’d be impressed if they knew how profitable Getaway was.”

  I shrug. “We don’t do too bad for ourselves.”

  “Oh come on, Logan. I know I don’t have access to the books, but I know you guys are bringing in a hell of a decent profit. Owen brings it up any time he’s had a few shots and there’s a pretty girl at the bar. Which is basically every night.”

  I let out a sigh and shake my head. “Sometimes I feel bad for getting all the smarts. It’s like that thing where one twin absorbs the other started to happen and I got all the brains between the two of us.”

  Danielle laughs, and my own heart swells. “It is a little unfair. At least he has your looks, because those alone will get you far.”

  My jaw drops and I bring my hand to my chest. “Are you hitting on me, Danielle Cross?”

  “You wish, Dawson.” She playfully punches me and then slips her arm through mine. “Thank you, Logan.”

  “For what?”

  She looks up at me. “You know.”

  Chapter 13

  Danielle

  “I’ll have a mimosa,” I tell the waiter. “But can I get vodka instead of champagne, and then hold the orange juice?”

  The waiter lowers his notepad and blinks. “You just want vodka?”

  “Yes.” I close my drink menu. “Make it a double, please.”

  “Interesting way to start the day but a good choice nonetheless,” he says with a chuckle. “And for you, sir?”

  “I’ll have the same but with the orange juice,” Logan orders even though he hates vodka. He’s a beer and whiskey drinker. Occasionally, he’ll take a shot or two of tequila. But vodka…nope. He said he drank too much during college and it ruined it for him.

  “You okay?” Logan asks when the waiter steps away. We’re sitting at the end of a large table, surrounded by my sister’s friends. Two have been her friend since high school, and she met the others during college.

  “Physically, I’m fine. I even agree with you that this dress looks good on me. But mentally.” I widen my eyes and make a face. “That’s a whole different story.”

  Logan gives me a small smile, knowing me all too well. I can’t distract him from the question at hand with my lame jokes. He sees right through it. I flick my eyes to my sister and her friends again, and it brings up a maelstrom of emotions too messy to even sort out in my head.

  They are judgmental bitches who pick others apart in order to make themselves feel better, but that’s not the only thing bugging me. I don’t have a bunch of close girlfriends. I’ve never belonged to a group like that. I don’t talk to anyone I went to high school with anymore, and while I’m Facebook friends with a few girls I hung out with in college, we never see each other in real life. We don’t even message back and forth anymore, just occasionally like each other’s photos.

  I’ve told myself it’s fine since I’ve always been a bit of a loner. I’m happy by myself, and even if I did have a big group of gal-pals that invited me out every other night, I’d probably turn the invites down.

  So why does seeing my sister talk and laugh with her six best friends make my brain jump right to there’s something wrong with me for not having a group of friends I can pose for photos with, posting them all over social media with cheesy captions about “my tribe” and how I couldn’t get through life without them.

  I’m sitting on solid ground, but it feels like the earth is crumbling out from under me. That weird sense of not knowing who I am creeps back up, and I feel the most unwelcome urge to try and fit in with these women, because I’ve been told over and over and over throughout my life that not being included is bad. I squeeze my eyes closed and try to quiet the sudden noise in my brain that’s louder than the crashing wave on the shore.

  “Danielle?” Logan’s hand lands on mine. I open my eyes, and everything settles back into place. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing, I just…” The waiter comes back with our drinks and then takes our breakfast order.

  “You were saying?” Logan encourages.

  I grab my drink and swirl the vodka around in the glass. And then I see someone else walking over. “Drink up,” I tell Logan in a warning and bring my glass to my lips. The vodka doesn’t go down as smooth as I anticipated, and I’m coughing and choking as my father and Peter’s dad come to the table. Peter’s father takes a seat and my own dad goes to Diana first, smiling down as he talks to her.

  Then his eyes zero in on me. “Danielle,” he says as he comes over.

  “Hey, Dad.” I stand up to give him a hug. I love my father, and I know he loves me. He really does want what’s best for me, but we could never agree on what that was. He mapped everything out without consulting me, and not following through with his plans caused him to be disappointed in me.

  “And this must be the young man you’ve told us nothing about.” Dad looks at Logan, who stands and introduces himself. “You know,” Dad starts after shaking Logan’s hand, “Peter asked my permission before he proposed to Diana.”

  I press my lips together in a smile to keep from saying what I really feel about that. This is Diana’s wedding weekend, bought and paid for. There’s no changing her mind now and making a scene would just be bitchy.

  “You two work together?” Dad asks.

  “Yeah,” I reply. “Logan owns the bar I work at.”

  “Glad that Yale education I paid for is going to good use,” Dad laughs, but the joke falls flat…if you could consider that a joke at all.

  “Danielle’s amazing,” Logan says quickly. “She already expanded the business and nearly doubled our sales.”

  “Sounds like she should be a partner in this little venture. Though once you’re married, what’s yours is hers and what’s hers is yours. Though you have plenty of time to discuss that before the wedding.”

  “We will.”

  “Give me fair warning before I pay for another big wedding,” Dad says with a laugh again.

  “I don’t want a big wedding,” I say.

  “That’s good news for me.” Dad turns back to Logan. “All of us men are golfing after breakfast while the girls get their nails done or shop. I look forward to getting to know you more before you marry my daughter.”

  I can see the horror flash on Logan’s face for only a second. Logan doesn’t golf. And he doesn’t hang out with pretentious, misogynist men who still brag about which Ivy League school they went to all these years later.

  “Actually, Dad,” I start. “I was hoping to steal my fiancé so we could do a bit of exploring today.”

  Dad looks from Logan to me. “All right. As long as you’re back in time for the rehearsal.”

  “We will be.”

  Diana calls Dad over, and I sink back into my seat. “I’ll do my best to keep him from badgering you the rest of the weekend,” I tell Logan.

  “It’s fine. I mean, he thinks we’re getting married. It would be weird if he didn’t try to badger me.”

  “That is true. We haven’t spoken much, but I know my dad does care and wants me to succeed. In life. His definition of success is different from mine, and that’s caused a lot of friction over the years.”

  “What’s his definition of success?”

  “Ivy League, grad school, and marrying someone who’s family has clout. A trust fund is an added bonus.”

  Logan takes a drink and makes a face of disgust. “This is awful.”

  “I’ll take it. The straight vodka burns.”

  “Be my guest.” He hands me his mimosa and I take a sip.

  “What is your definition of success?”

  “Asking t
he tough questions today?” I raise my eyebrows and then let out a breath before taking a big drink. “I just want to be happy, and I don’t need some fancy job, a master’s degree or a Ph.D. to do that. And I’m not going to date—let alone marry—someone that looks good on paper but doesn’t make me happy either.” I look down the table at Diana and Peter.

  His father is an oral surgeon. His older brother is a corporate lawyer. Peter works in advertising and works with high-paying clients. I would never say my sister is stupid. Makes stupid choices sometimes, yes…but don’t we all? She didn’t have the grades to get into Yale, even with my father’s connections. Marrying into a prestigious family is, in her eyes, one of her biggest accomplishments.

  But she’s happy.

  “Luckily all the attention is on Diana this weekend, and she will do everything she can to keep it that way. We have free time today and then it’s the rehearsal tonight and the wedding in the morning.”

  “Right. We do have free time today.” His eyes meet mine. “How should we pass it?”

  Heat rushes through me, and my throat is suddenly thick. Did he mean that to sound sexual or is my mind still stuck in the gutter? Because I’d really like to—stop.

  I can’t. I shouldn’t.

  But why the hell not?

  He’s my best friend.

  The only steady thing I have in this crazy world, and I can’t risk that.

  I just can’t.

  Chapter 14

  Logan

  Danielle’s eyes close in a long blink, and she reaches for her drink again. It’s her go-to method when she’s stressed.

  “We…we could…uh…sit at, the uh, beach.”

  “Sure, if that’s what you want to do.”

  “It would be relaxing.” Danielle’s gaze goes to her parents. Being around her family is bringing up all her insecurities. It’s hard sitting here and doing nothing when I see the vulnerability reflected in her eyes. Don’t go falling in love with me, Dawson. Her own words echo in my head.