Take Me To The Beach

by K. L. Grayson, Karina Halle, A. L. Jackson, Marni Mann, Monica Murphy, Devney Perry, Kristen Proby, Rachel Van Dyken

  Dread slithers down my spine like icy cold fingers. “The Wilder Hotel?” I ask weakly. I do not want to go there.

  At. All.

  Iris glances up at me. “I know I don’t usually ask you to handle the appointments out of the store.”

  “We usually don’t allow appointments out of the store,” I remind her. If we opened up to that, we’d be meeting couples all over the place. We’d have to hire more employees, and it would turn into a logistical nightmare.

  “You’re right.” She smiles, resting her forearms on the edge of her desk and clasping her hands together. “For this couple, I made an exception. I know them. Personally.”

  “Oh?” I sit in the chair on the other side of her desk. “Who are they?”

  “Sandie and Fred Velasquez. They’re friends of mine who recently reconnected after knowing each other years ago, and they’re getting married.” Iris smiles. “They’re from the area originally, but they live in Sacramento now. They came for the day to meet with their wedding planner and check out some locations to have their ceremony and reception. Their last meeting is at Wilder, and I promised them I would send someone over with our online catalog to look at some options.”

  Old friends who recently reconnected and fell in love. Sounds familiar. “What time do I need to meet with them?” I don’t want to do this, but they’re Iris’s friends. And I already love their love story, so how can I say no?

  “Five-thirty. You should probably leave around five. So say in…ninety minutes?” Iris suggests after checking her desktop for the time.

  “Will do.” I nod as I stand. Pausing, I contemplate her. “Since when did we get an online catalog?”

  “I didn’t tell you about it?” When I shake my head as my answer she makes a face. “I’ve been so forgetful lately. Probably because I’ve had so much on my face. Cassie’s boyfriend is a coding genius. He’s been working on our website, and one of the options he suggested was having an online catalog. It’s not quite live yet for the public, but I can send you the link and you can use to show Fred and Sandie.”

  “Can you send the link to me now? So I can familiarize myself with it?” I ask.

  “Absolutely. Good idea.” The look Iris gives me is warm. “Thank you for helping with this last minute meeting. You don’t have to come back to the store when you’re finished.”

  “Wasn’t planning on it,” I say with a little bit of sass as I get up from my chair and leave her office.

  “You act like your boss loves you or something,” she calls after me as I walk away.

  “Love you too!”

  I go to the front of the store, my phone buzzing. I pull it out of my dress pocket—don’t you love a dress that comes with pockets?—to find it’s the catalog link from Iris. Opening it up, I see that it’s set up in magazine form, and you can flip the pages with the swipe of a finger.

  All of our most popular products are there, including some new ones I haven’t seen before. Excitement bubbles up inside me, and by the time I’m finished looking at the catalog, I’m glad I get to show this off to our new clients. And fine, if I have to go to the Wilder Hotel on Pebble Beach, at least the drive is nice. The view is excellent. And the hotel is gorgeous.

  It’s a Saturday, so I doubt I’d run into Alex…

  My phone buzzes again, and it’s a text from Stella.

  You holding up okay?

  Smiling, I type out my response.

  Better than okay. Iris is doing new things with the business that are so exciting! I’ll share them with you later.

  She replies quickly.

  That’s awesome! I’m glad you have your job to distract you

  Work has definitely been the distraction I needed since my last conversation with Alex. My friends have been there for me too. Stella and I have had Netflix movie marathons and lots of ice cream every night. That she’s willing to consume so many calories for me while I’m down and out says a lot.

  We all went out Thursday night to a bar that hosts Thirsty Thursday and got drinks for half price until nine. Kelsey came too, which was fun. Her being there helped me not talk about Alex the entire time. But her being there also reminded me of Alex, and I got a little tipsy because of it.

  Half price drinks will do it too, especially when your friends keep buying you drinks so you can drown your sorrows.

  I didn’t get stumbling drunk because that just reminded me of Manon. I saw on that same website that broke the story about me and Alex that she’s in rehab. Good. I guess she needs the help. Does that make me feel sympathetic though, for what she did to us?

  Nope, not at all.

  I take care of an appointment at three, which took a little longer than normal. The bride to be was extremely indecisive and she went back and forth between three options. I could tell her fiancé was exasperated, but he was so patient with her, it reaffirmed my feelings of true love.

  It’s real. And just because I didn’t get a chance to experience it this time around, my true love is waiting for me. Somewhere.

  By the time it’s almost five, I’m gathering up my stuff, including my work iPad, where I already have the online catalog open in a browser window. I shove all my things into my tote bag and head outside to find Stella’s car parked out front. I texted her when I realized I needed a car to get to the hotel, and she said she’d leave it parked outside for me. She left the keys with Cassie when she saw I was in a meeting, and told Cassie the car had a full tank.

  I really, really love my friends.

  I drive out to Pebble Beach, stressin’ because traffic is exceptionally heavy. I should’ve known better and left a little earlier. It’s a Saturday, the weather is glorious and everyone wants to go to the ocean.

  Hopefully I’m not late.

  By the time I pull into the front of the Wilder Hotel, I don’t even bother trying to find a parking spot. I’m going to get valet parking instead. It’ll save me time, and it’s literally four-fifty-nine, so I’m basically late.

  The valet guy gives me a ticket and I give him my keys, then dash into the hotel. I’ve been here before, of course. Even before I realized my Alex was the Alex Wilder. Wedding receptions are held here pretty much every weekend and I’ve attended a few. My senior prom was here. I know my way around the convention area and where the ballrooms are. Iris said we’re meeting in ballroom two, so I make my way there, practically tripping over my heels as I walk and run, walk and run. I must look like an idiot.

  I sort of don’t care.

  By the time I’m standing in front of the double doors of ballroom two, I pause, trying to control my accelerated breathing. I wish I brought my water bottle, but it’s in my car. My face feels sweaty, but hopefully it gives me that dewy look everyone’s trying to achieve. I run a hand over my hair, straighten the skirt of my pale pink dress, rest my hand on the handle for a brief moment before I turn it and open the door.

  I stop short, my mouth hanging open when I see what’s inside.

  Pink and gold balloons. Everywhere. They’re covering the floor, they’re hanging from the ceiling, tied with long, curled shimmery gold ribbon. A huff of laughter escapes and I cover my mouth, wondering if I’m in the wrong place.

  I see a card hanging from one of the balloons in the center of the room. Slowly I approach it, kicking balloons out of my way as I walk across the floor. The heavy white card stock has my name written on it in block letters.

  Turning the card over, I read the back.

  Look to your right.

  Glancing over, I see a giant poster, each top corner attached to ribbon from the balloons. I make my way over to it, wading through all the balloons covering the floor, and a gasp escapes me when I see it up close. I recognize that poster—it’s one of my favorite save the date card options we offer.

  It has a heart in the center, and there are initials inside.

  CA

  +

  AW

  A sigh escapes as a wave of emotion spills over me. Caroline Abbott + A
lexander Wilder.

  Above the heart in rose gold script it says, Save the date, and just below the heart is…today’s date?

  Um, I don’t get it.

  A noise sounds from behind me, like someone kicked a bunch of balloons and I glance over my shoulder to see Alex approaching me. Cautiously. His expression full of hope. He stops where he’s at when our gazes meet, the balloons clinging to his legs. He’s wearing jeans and a black T-shirt, the most casual I’ve ever seen Alex look in the daytime, and my heart aches with the need to run to him.

  But I don’t move. It’s like I can’t.

  More than anything, I need to hear what he has to say.

  “Caroline.” He clears his throat and I close my eyes for a second, savoring the sound of my name in his deep voice. “I was wrong.”

  When he says nothing else, like he’s stuck, I ask, “About what?”

  “About everything. Manon figured out Tiffany and I were engaged on her own, and she leaked the information to the tabloids because she was afraid you’d tell the world that she’s a drunk,” he explains.

  I frown. “That’s ridiculous. Who would I tell?”

  “I don’t know.” He shrugs. “She’s not making much sense right now. She’s also in rehab.”

  “I saw.”

  “But she doesn’t matter.” He waves a hand, dismissing her. “You’re the one who matters to me. More than anyone else. I know we haven’t been together very long, and I messed it all up by not believing you. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Caroline. If I could take back what I said to you that day, I would. But I can’t. It’s out there, I hurt you and I—I’ve fucked everything up.”

  Tears spring to my eyes at the agony in his voice, the pain on his face. It’s good to see that he’s so torn up over it. Yes, that might sound petty, but he hurt me so badly by not believing in me. By not taking my side.

  I’m going to forgive him for it, though. I’m just going to make him grovel a little bit more first.

  “I don’t want to lose you, but if I already have, I understand why. I was a complete ass, and there’s no excuse for my behavior—”

  I interrupt him. “You were worried about your deal with the Descheauxs. I understand why you were so upset.”

  “Doesn’t excuse the fact that I didn’t believe you,” he says.

  Realization hits me. “Alex, you don’t really know me that well. I can…see why you didn’t believe me. And you didn’t call me a liar.” I called myself a liar. I took offense to what he was saying, when he was just trying to figure out what happened.

  He may have showed his distrust in me, but I also might’ve overreacted. Maybe we’re both wrong in this situation.

  “I never thought you were lying to me. More like, I wasn’t sure if you said something and didn’t even realize it, you know? I didn’t get how she figured out what we did so quickly.” He shakes his head. “Maybe we shouldn’t have started out our relationship with lies.”

  I crack a smile. “It probably wasn’t the smartest idea.”

  He’s smiling too. “That’s why I did this. I wanted to celebrate today.”

  My smile fades, replaced by confusion. “Why exactly are we celebrating today? And how did you manage this? I thought I was meeting up with a couple to go over their save the date cards.”

  “I called your boss and explained everything. Iris came up with the plan to get you here. And she helped me order this save the date poster, plus all the balloons. The poster cost a fortune by the way,” he teases as he heads toward me.

  “I’m not surprised,” I murmur, sucking in a breath when he stops directly in front of me. He’s so tall. And good. He’s a good man. “But why today?”

  “We’re starting over. I’m going to do this right this time.” He grabs both of my hands in his and gives them a squeeze. “Hi. I’m Alex.”

  A giggle escapes me. “Hey. I’m Caroline.”

  “I recognize you.” He squints at me. Tilts his head to the side. “You’re the girl who was my first kiss.”

  Heat spreads across my cheeks. We’re being silly, but it’s also really sweet. “You were my first kiss too.”

  “I think about you all the time,” he admits, his voice soft. “You’re all that I want, Caroline. And I desperately want another chance with you.”

  I press my lips together so I don’t burst into tears, and all I can manage is a nod as my answer.

  He pulls me into his arms and holds me close, his hands sprawled across my back, his mouth at my forehead. He feels so good, so right. “This is going to be the start of something good, Caroline,” he murmurs against my temple. “I can feel it.”

  When he pulls away slightly to lift my face up to his and brushes his lips against mine, I know…

  I can feel it too.

  Chapter 39

  Sarah

  Sometimes I marvel at the path my job choices have sent me down. For instance, I’m currently wrist-deep in lace and silk, facing a naked mannequin whose bare boobs are at eye level, so I can’t avoid them.

  And I also can’t help but think that she has way better boobs than me.

  Welcome to Bliss, where we sell fantasy.

  We actually sell lingerie. Bras, panties, nightgowns, sleep sets, you know. Pretty, frilly stuff. Very expensive, high-end lingerie you don’t find at Victoria’s Secret—though I have no problem with Victoria’s Secret.

  Please don’t tell my boss that.

  What Bliss doesn’t sell are sex toys. Marlo—my boss and the owner—finds them, ahem, distasteful. Though she does sell beautiful feather ticklers and silk eye masks, though she claims they’re for sleeping.

  The customers I’ve sold them to? They’re definitely not using them to sleep.

  I’ve worked here almost two years. I started out in the stockroom, opening boxes and preparing items for the floor, i.e. taking them out of their packaging and putting them on hangers. A totally thankless job, though I worked hard at it because I needed the money. Marlo noticed my hard work and promoted me to a part-time sales associate within two months of me starting.

  Now I work full time, and I even have benefits. I also have seniority over most of the staff, which means I can pretty much pick my hours and the days I work.

  What I can’t pick, though, are my clients. I’m a personal shopper for some. One in particular who’s coming in this morning. In fact, he should be here soon.

  Yes, I said he. Insert massive eyeroll here.

  “Sarah.” The gentle whisper voice knocks me from my wayward thoughts, and I finish folding the Belgian lace-trimmed, virginal white negligee before turning to face my coworker, Bethany. I smile at her and she offers me a sympathetic smile in return, because I know why she’s talking to me, and she knows I know why too.

  She also knows how much I hate these appointments. How they—he—drives me crazy.

  “Mr. Gaines is here to see you,” Bethany says with the slightest grimace.

  I keep the smile pasted on my face because I never let it slip. Not when Mr. Jared Gaines is in the building. Taking a deep breath, I tuck my hair behind my ears as I stride toward the front of the store, hoping my vibrant red lipstick isn’t smudged. Praying my ankle doesn’t wobble as I walk in these new, extraordinarily high-heeled shoes. I wore the shoes for Mr. Gaines today because supposedly he likes me better when I’m taller (pretty much a direct—and odd—quote from a past interaction). He’s early too, of course. Otherwise I would’ve gone to the mirror and made sure I looked the part.

  What part, might you ask? Why, dutiful lingerie shop girl, of course.

  Here’s one of Mr. Jared Gaines’s quirks—he likes to keep me on edge. He told me exactly that the last time he came into Bliss, to buy a black silk camisole and tap pants set for his latest mistress. He wants to keep me guessing, he said. Predictable is boring.

  Well. He’s anything but boring, what with all the lingerie he buys. I’m guessing that means he has a long list of countless women he’s been with. And that brings me
to another thing I don’t like about Jared Gaines. He has way too many mistresses. Well, he calls them lovers, dates, girlfriends, whatever, but I call them mistresses, which annoys him.

  I do whatever I can to annoy him, but I can’t be too annoying. There’s a fine line I walk when I’m dealing with him. And he knows it.

  The bastard.

  All the girls who work at Bliss Lingerie in downtown Carmel-by-the-Sea know Jared Gaines. They all lust for him too, because he’s gorgeous and young and rich and successful. He’s a billionaire with a house on 17 Mile Drive that has a bazillion bedrooms, yet he’s the only one who lives there. Oh, he has a quaint little cabin (insert sarcasm) in Tahoe, too. Where he goes skiing or snowboarding during the winter, I’m not sure which. Sailing in the summer, because of course he has a boat. I’m sure it’s massive. The biggest, baddest boat on the entire lake, because that’s the kind of man he is.

  I’ve wondered more than once if he has a small penis. That’s why he buys all the toys— to make up for what he’s lacking.

  I recently discovered he owns enough cars to take a different one out for a drive every day of the week, maybe more. How do I know all of this? There are countless articles about him on the internet. Google his name. You’ll find out the scoop.

  Well. Maybe not all the scoop. You see, there’s one little secret not that many people know about Jared Gaines.

  He’s kind of a dick.

  Harsh words and all that, but it’s the truth. I bet he’d own up to it. In fact, I’m sure he’s really proud that he’s considered a dick. Yes, he’s gorgeous and young and rich and successful, with all his money and houses and cars. And that’s great and all, but he’s also rude and demanding and cold and discerningly quiet. I don’t like quiet.

  I don’t trust quiet.

  Don’t trust men with too many “girlfriends” either.