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

  “Ex-girlfriend?”

  “She was never my girlfriend, just a mistake from months ago. But we dated and she’s become friends with Sofia. I’m sorry.”

  I shrugged. “It’s fine. Let’s just get through dinner.” Then we could escape back to the guesthouse and hide.

  We all entered the dining room and took our seats. Charlie and Joan were talking about soccer. Thomas was engrossed with his phone, occasionally asking Aubrey if she’d seen this or that email. And the rest of us sat quietly and ate the first course, a simple salad.

  “So Thea,” Aubrey said from her seat across the table as the main course was served. “Logan says you’re a professional artist.”

  I shook my head and swallowed my own fry. “No. It’s just a hobby.”

  “She’s incredible.” Logan leaned past me to look at Joan. “I’ll send you some pictures of her work. I think you’d like some things for your collection.”

  “Pass those on to me too.” Aubrey smiled at me. “What style of art do you do? Impressionism? Contemporary? Realism?”

  “Um, modern, I guess?” I had no clue how to classify my art. Was trash a style?

  “Modern!” Aubrey cheered. “Oh, I love modern. Tell me about your process.”

  I shoved a bite in my mouth, chewing to buy myself some time. Aubrey meant well, but her questions made me feel even more like an imposter. She probably thought I was some kind of starving artist, forced to work at a bar until my art career bloomed. In reality, I loved my job at the bar and had no desire to become a full-time artist.

  “Mommy, can I have some ketchup?”

  “Sure, honey.” I scrambled for the glass bottle, hoping it would be a segue into a conversation as far away from my garbage art as possible.

  Luckily, by the time I plopped a blob onto Charlie’s plate, Thomas had stolen Aubrey’s attention again to discuss something about work.

  “Logan, have you given any thought to enrolling Charlotte at Rotherchild Academy?” Lillian asked from the foot of the table.

  “It’s Charlie,” Logan and I both corrected in unison. “And no, Mom. I haven’t thought about Rothchild. She’s not going to school all the way out here.”

  “Then what about Fairlane?” Lillian asked. “It’s closer to the penthouse if you’ll be staying in the city.”

  “We’ll see,” he said. “Let’s talk about it later.”

  I gaped at Logan. Had he actually considered putting Charlie in some New York academy after I’d specifically told him I wanted her to go to school in Montana?

  “Charlie goes to school in Lark Cove,” I announced. “She won’t be going to any academy.”

  Logan ran a hand through his hair and turned in his seat. “That’s not what I meant.”

  I threw his words right back in his face. “Let’s talk about it later.”

  “Charlotte is a lovely name.” Lillian forked a piece of roast tenderloin, cutting it into a delicate bite. “Don’t you think, Sofia?”

  “Lovely,” Sofia agreed. “Much more fitting for the family than Charlie.”

  Lillian nodded. “I’d really love to call her Charlotte. Would that be all right?”

  I looked down at Charlie to see her frown.

  Obviously, I loved the name Charlotte. I’d picked it out because it had sounded classy, like something Logan’s daughter would be named. It was a name I would have picked for myself. So I’d been upset the day Charlie had come home from camp and declared she was no longer Charlotte.

  But my frustration hadn’t lasted long. Hazel had told me about a boy who’d come to the camp. His name was Ray, he had muscular dystrophy, and my little girl had bonded with him instantly. Ray was confined to a wheelchair and since he couldn’t get down and play in the dirt, Charlie had brought the dirt to him. She’d found him sticks and rocks and pinecones. From what Hazel had said, that boy had had an incredible camp experience simply because of my daughter.

  Ray had nicknamed her Charlie.

  So if that name was special to her, then she could go by it whenever she wanted. And I’d be happy to enforce it with Logan’s mother.

  “I’m sorry, Lillian. No. Charlie prefers her nickname and she’s old enough to make that decision.”

  Lillian’s eyes went wide, surprised that I’d deny her. She opened her mouth to protest, but before she could, Logan intervened. “Enough, Mom. It’s Charlie. End of discussion.”

  “Shall we change the subject?” Joan offered. “Thea, remind me what you do in Montana.”

  “I manage a local bar and restaurant.”

  God, just saying it out loud sounded pathetic. How was it that in one dinner, these people had taken away something I’d always been proud of?

  Well, forget that. I wasn’t going to be ashamed that I made a living serving drinks. The waiters coming in and out of the dining room tonight had nothing to be ashamed of and neither did I.

  “The bar has been in my family for years.”

  “Your family?” Thomas asked, tuning into the conversation. “What family?”

  My head whipped to his end of the table. His expression was knotted in confusion—Thomas knew I didn’t have family. Because he’d looked into me. He probably knew more about my heritage than I did.

  Did Logan? Had he had one of his assistants dig into my past too? He’d been so patient and understanding, letting me dodge the subject of my childhood. But maybe that was because he’d already learned everything there was to know.

  I couldn’t confront him about it now, not with his father’s question hanging in the air.

  What family?

  “My family.” Hazel and Jackson might not share my DNA, but they were my family.

  “So you run a bar.” Alice polished off her third glass of wine. The waiters had been refilling it constantly. “No wonder you jumped all over the chance to trap Logan.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Alice,” Logan shot across the table, “one more word and I’ll have you escorted out.”

  Sofia shushed her, scooting her water glass closer, but even Logan’s threat didn’t stop her loose tongue.

  “Oh, Logan. Don’t you see this is all just a trick? She’s obviously a gold digger. Are you sure this kid is even yours? I mean, look at her.” She flung out a hand, nearly knocking over her water as she snickered. “The least you could do is cut her hair if you wanted to pass her off as his kid. She’s like a wild little animal.”

  Bitch.

  Charlie’s entire body flinched and I instantly took her hand.

  The waves of anger coming off Logan crashed into my shoulder. “Get her out of my sight.”

  From nowhere, Phil the butler appeared along with one of his helpers. It took them all of twenty seconds to hoist drunk Alice out of her seat and away from the dining room. Her protests echoed down the hall for a moment until they stopped with the sound of a slammed door.

  “What were you thinking, inviting her here?” Logan snapped at Sofia. “Why would you do that?”

  “I just wanted to have a friend over.” Sofia huffed. “This is my house too.”

  “Your taste in friends is worse than it is in husbands.”

  Sofia gasped. “Alice had a point. How do you know she’s not just out for our money?”

  The look on Sofia’s face was full of regret as the words filled the room, but it was too late. She’d said them and Logan was not going to be forgiving.

  I almost felt bad for her.

  The glare Logan sent his sister gave me chills. “Say one more word and I’ll revoke your ability to withdraw from your trust fund. Maybe if you went with a little less from now on, you’d be more respectful of the people in this room.”

  “What?” Sofia screamed, shooting up from her chair, teetering to the side from her own cosmo buzz. “You can’t do that! Dad is in charge of the trust funds.”

  “Not anymore.”

  She held his gaze, her face paling when he didn’t falter. She spun to Thomas. “Daddy?”

  Th
omas frowned, but before he could intervene, Aubrey spoke up. “Is this true?” she asked, looking just as stunned as Sofia.

  Thomas nodded, his serious demeanor not cracking a bit. “Logan will be taking over some of the family responsibilities. Overseeing the trust funds is part of that. Until your funds are released, he’ll be approving your withdrawals.”

  Or not approving their withdrawals.

  “But I don’t get my money for another three years!” Sofia shrieked, now looking to her mother for help. “Mom?”

  Lillian’s mouth was slightly open. “Logan, you can’t be serious.”

  He didn’t respond to his mom. He just kept glaring at Sofia.

  “Why are we just learning about this?” Aubrey asked Thomas. “I work with you every day, but you couldn’t bother telling me that my brother is now in charge of my personal finances?”

  “Don’t be dramatic, Aubrey.” Thomas waved her off. “We transferred it over just last week. Besides, you haven’t taken a disbursement in years. We all know you’re living off your salary. Or are you saying that I’m not paying you enough?”

  “That’s not the point.”

  “Then what is the point?” he fired back. “This was a decision that I made, and I don’t require your approval. Don’t forget your place.”

  “My place? I thought I was your daughter and colleague but apparently I’m just another employee.” Aubrey shot out of her chair and started yelling at her father about all the work she put into their company. Meanwhile, Sofia ran to Lillian’s side, sobbing as she cursed at Logan.

  The room was chaos. Even the waitstaff had disappeared.

  This was no place for my daughter.

  I kept Charlie’s hand and stood from my chair. Logan grabbed for me, but I slid free. With a nod to Joan as she mouthed, Sorry, I took my daughter straight out of the room.

  We wasted no time escaping the dining room or the house. I opened the first door that led to the patio, breathing in the freedom of the night air.

  I swung Charlie’s hand at my side as we walked down the pathway to the guesthouse. “That wasn’t much fun, was it?”

  “No.” She scuffled her feet. “They didn’t like me.”

  When I heard her sniffle, I stopped and bent in front of her, catching a tear with my thumb, holding back tears of my own.

  “I love you, Charlie. Just the way you are. Who cares what those mean people think?”

  She sniffled, wiping her nose with the back of her free hand. “Do I have to cut my hair?”

  I pulled out her headband, setting her brown strands free. There was nothing wrong with her hair. It was thick and soft and hung long down her back. Millions of little girls would love to have her hair.

  “Of course not.”

  “Good,” she whispered. “Can we go home now, Mommy?”

  “Pretty soon. We’re almost done with this place.” I stood back up and kicked off my nude heels. “Let’s forget about dinner and have fun. Take off your shoes.”

  “Why?” she asked as she kicked them off.

  “Because we’re going to have a race. Guess what I saw in the freezer earlier when I was poking around?”

  She handed me her shoes. “What?”

  “Ice cream. The first person back to the house gets to pick the flavor.”

  Without a moment’s hesitation, she shot off the path, running as fast as she could through the grass. I laughed and did the same. She was giggling as she ran, looking over her shoulder to make sure I wasn’t too close.

  Her precious smile lit up her face.

  Logan had asked me what I wanted last night. It was simple: a happy child.

  I loved that Charlie was wild. I loved that she ran free. New York and Logan’s family might kill her untamed spirit. I couldn’t risk her suffocating here.

  So I was taking her home.

  Logan

  Sitting at the dining room table, I’d never been so disappointed in my family. This dinner seemed more like a nightmare than reality. I’d wanted to follow Thea and Charlie out the door, but there were things to be dealt with here first.

  Sofia had finally calmed down after her outburst. She was sitting back in her chair, sniffling like a toddler in timeout. Aubrey was fuming in her seat, throwing glares at Dad. Clearly, things at Kendrick Enterprises were not going as smoothly as I’d thought given Aubrey’s overreaction. I’d have to discuss it with her later, but for now, I needed to right things for Thea and Charlie.

  “What is wrong with you?” I asked the room. “How could you treat them that way? That is my child and the woman I’m going to marry.”

  “Marry?” Mom asked. “You can’t be serious. You hardly know her, Logan. She’s—”

  “She’s what?” I cut her off. “Kind. Talented. Loving. Beautiful. Are those not desirable traits these days?”

  “That’s not what I meant.” Mom sighed. “She’s . . . she’s come out of nowhere. How can we be sure she isn’t trying to manipulate you?”

  Granny scoffed. “Please, Lillian. Thea isn’t trying to manipulate anyone. You’re just being paranoid.”

  “I’m just looking out for my son,” Mom told her. “And I have a right to be paranoid. Let’s be honest here. My children don’t have the best taste in romantic partners.”

  We all looked at Sofia, who sank deeper into her seat.

  “This entire thing is suspicious,” Mom said. “You went to Montana for a business meeting and found a long-lost child. Then she refused to give you a paternity test—”

  “No, I refused.”

  “Because she’s convinced you that the girl is yours. You’ve obviously fallen in love with them both, but Logan, that’s the problem. Love has made you blind. How do we know that this all isn’t a trap if she won’t give you proof that Charlotte is your child?”

  “Charlie.” I fisted my hands on the table, trying to keep my cool. “Her name is Charlie. And she is, without a doubt, my child. I won’t hear another thing about it. Understand? Do not mention the words ‘paternity test’ to me ever again.”

  “But—”

  “Logan,” Dad stopped Mom’s rebuttal, “your mother has a point.”

  “Does she?” I clipped. “Because to me, it seems like Thea and Charlie had to pay the price tonight for Sofia’s poor choice in husbands.”

  “We’re just—”

  “Looking out for me?” I finished Dad’s sentence. “I don’t need you to look out for me. What I do need is for you to be supportive of the choices I make, right or wrong. I need you to embrace my daughter and welcome her into this family, because whether or not you want to accept it, she is a part of this family. Thea will be too.”

  I stood from the table. “Now if you’ll excuse me. I need to go find my daughter. She deserves an explanation for dinner, though I’m not quite sure how to explain to a six-year-old that her grandparents don’t like her because they think her mother’s a gold digger.”

  “Logan, I . . .” Mom’s shoulders drooped.

  Her actions stemmed from love. I knew that. But it didn’t change the fact that she’d crossed the line tonight.

  “Charlie’s not a pawn in some manipulative game, Mom. She’s a little girl. My little girl. And she’s your granddaughter. Maybe tomorrow you could try not to be so cold and indifferent?”

  Her face paled as she nodded.

  “Good night.” I tossed my napkin on my unfinished meal, then I turned for the door and marched down the hall. I only made it a few feet before Dad called my name.

  “Logan, we need to talk.”

  “Not tonight.”

  “Just give me five minutes before you run off. Please.”

  I sighed and turned, following him down a few doors to his office. As much as I wanted to get the hell out of this house, I needed to get this over with and hear whatever he had to say.

  We entered the office and Dad went straight for his mahogany desk. This was the one room in the house that Mom wasn’t allowed to redecorate every few years, so i
t was the same as it had been when I was a kid.

  There were dark bookshelves on every wall. A liquor cart sat in the corner. His desk rested on a Persian rug in the middle of the room. A leather couch faced a gas fireplace. The smell of his last Cuban cigar lingered in the air. Every time I walked into his office, it brought back memories of me doing my homework on the couch while he worked every evening.

  Dad had always worked, and until tonight, I hadn’t thought anything of it. As kids, if we’d wanted to spend time with him, it was in this room.

  Was that how Charlie had felt this last week? I’d brought her and Thea here for a vacation but had basically abandoned them in favor of work. Did they feel like second place to my job?

  Shit. Was I becoming my father? I loved the man. I admired him. But he wasn’t the type of dad to coach soccer games, read bedtime stories or play in forts. If I wanted all of that with Charlie, things had to change.

  I had to cut back at work.

  “I need to check on Thea and Charlie,” I told him.

  “This won’t take long.” He slid a file folder to the edge of his desk, then ran a hand through his hair. It was a habit I’d also picked up from him long ago. Granny had always told me that when I did it, I looked just like Dad. “Read that.”

  I picked it up, opening it to a large photo of Thea working at the bar. What the hell? “Where did you get this?”

  “I hired an investigator to look into Thea.”

  “You’re kidding me.” The corner of the cover’s folder crumpled in my fist. “Why? Isn’t it enough that I trust her?”

  “Logan, be reasonable. Your mother wasn’t entirely wrong earlier. You don’t know this woman.”

  “But you do?” I held up the file. “I’m not looking at this.” I tossed the folder on the desk. I trusted Thea to tell me about her past when she was ready.

  “Then I’ll tell you what it says.” I turned to leave, but his words stopped me. “She was dumped as a newborn. Did you know that? She was found in a Dumpster in Harlem, strung out on heroin. According to the notes in her hospital records, she went weeks without a name because they didn’t think she was going to live. I guess one of the nurses finally named her.”