by Sara Cate
Putting a little vodka on ice with soda water and a slice of lime, I check my phone again for the hundredth time. I'm feeling especially restless today. Ellis is coming tomorrow. And because Hanna is already in the guest house, they're setting him up in the master wing. I kept my side of the house after Dad and Zara moved out, and we made his office and bedroom into another space for guests. It hasn't been used in months. Except for the few parties we throw on the island, we never have guests.
Ellis will be in my house, sleeping down the hall. Maybe I should put Hanna in the house where I can keep an eye on her. I don't know if I trust him with her around. No, I'll keep him closer, making sure I'm the last one to go to bed at night so I know she's safe. Should I tell him she's off limits?
If he's anything like he was three years ago, he won’t care about what's on or off limits. Ellis makes his own rules, lives by his own limits. When he sees something he wants, he takes it.
There's movement outside that catches my attention. Going to the patio door, I watch as Hanna dives headfirst into the pool. It's weird having someone else here now. When everyone goes home at night, I'm alone. Being secluded on this island gives me a sense of eerie calm, but it's also like being suspended in air, waiting for something bad to happen.
I watch her swim for a few minutes, and when she pops out and sees me standing there, drink in hand, she lifts a hand to wave for a moment before climbing out and drying herself with a towel.
Finally, I walk outside, the clink of ice in my glass the only sound between us.
"The stars are beautiful," she says as she reclines in one of the lounge chairs. Lying all the way back, she stares up at the sky. She’s right. Without the light pollution from the city, the sky is remarkable out here. Tonight, there isn't a cloud in sight, so the view is perfect.
"Don't you ever get lonely here?” she asks as I sit down in the chair next to her. Leaning back, I stare up at the sky too.
"I'm too busy to feel lonely."
She turns to look at me. “I’ve been busy too, but I still get lonely all the time."
My eyes snap toward her, and my heart cracks a little at her admission. I don't know why this surprises me. Hanna is the girl you see with a man on her arm at all times. She's always surrounded by friends. There's no way she feels lonely.
Dropping the subject, she glances at me as she asks, “So, did you say there’s someone coming here tomorrow?”
Turning away, I hide the tic in my jaw. “Yeah, just a business consultant.”
“Oh…” her voice trails. “Are they staying on the island too?”
“Yes.”
“I hope it’s okay I’m in the guest house. Do you want me to—”
“No, you’re fine. He’ll stay in the house with me.”
Her head snaps in my direction.
“Not with me,” I correct myself quickly. “I mean in the guest room. It’s fine. You don’t need to move.”
“Okay…” she says, and it’s starting to feel uncomfortable again. It really shouldn’t. With as long as Hanna and I have known each other, I hate to feel like we can’t even hang out causally like this, but to be honest, I haven’t casually hung out with a woman I wasn’t trying to fuck in…well, forever.
Just then, as if she’s reading my fucking mind, she says, “You know, if you need company..."
My heart starts to hammer in my chest. Even the vodka flowing through my veins can't calm the erratic beat. I risk a glance in her direction, but she's not looking at me. Her eyes are still glued on the stars. It's quiet for so long I start to wonder if I'm imagining the assumption in her statement.
“I’ll be blunt, Nash. You scare me. You always have, but right now I'm in such a rut I think I'd like to be fucked up."
"Hanna..."
“We don’t need to tell anyone. Just one time, no string attached sort of thing.”
I have no clue what the fuck I'm supposed to say right now, but she's throwing a curve ball at me, and I'm at a loss for words. Is she asking me to fuck her? And be rough? How am I supposed to answer that?
Um, fucking yes please.
"Never mind. I'm an idiot," she says in a rush before standing up and marching toward the guest house. I'm out of my chair in a heartbeat, running after her. Why did I have to take so long to answer?
As my hand latches around her arm, she quickly snatches it away. "That was stupid of me to say. I don't know what's wrong with me. Please forget I said anything…”
"I can't forget you said that."
"Then, just let me go." There are thick tears brimming in her eyes waiting to spill over.
"It's just...we can't, Hanna. It's...off limits."
Finally, her gaze meets mine, and she looks pained. "Don’t you think I understand that? She's my best friend, Nash. But she fucked your dad, so you're lying to yourself if you believe that off-limits bullshit."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I snap, grabbing her arm again, this time with a little more roughness.
"It means you're still stuck on her.”
“I am not stuck on Zara,” I reply, which is true.
“All of this..." she says, gesturing around at the buildings. "All of it is just a cover. You're not lonely because you're busy. You're lonely because you're hiding, Nash."
Well, fuck, she’s not wrong about that, but it’s not because of Zara.
“Who are you to talk? You’re the one hiding. Isn't that why you came out here?"
"Yes," she bites back, the tears finally running down her face. "I am hiding, but at least I know what I'm hiding from."
Then, she snatches her arm out of my grasp and jogs away. Choosing not to follow her, I stand alone under the stars trying to figure out how the hell this happened. Why couldn’t I just decline her offer? Why do I have to be such an asshole?
Because she pointed out something about myself I didn’t need her pointing out. I am hiding, and tomorrow, the one memory I’m hiding from is about to land on this very fucking island.
---
Spend enough time around aircrafts like I do, and you can pinpoint every single model by sound alone. And I know the sound of my dad’s N-2 approaching, which sends a flood of anxiety to the surface of my skin. He's early. Of course, he is. They were supposed to come in after lunch, but it's only ten and he's already landing.
Shoving my laptop away, I quickly fix my hair and stand up from my office.
“Charlotte, can you please forward the edits on these specs to the design team before I get back?”
"Yes, Mr. Wilde."
Adjusting my shirt again, I walk out to the helipad, holding my head up as high as I can. He's not going to intimidate me. I'm not going to let him get into my head again.
First, I spot my dad climbing out of the helicopter. The sun glares against the windshield, and I cover my eyes against the brightness. Then, Ellis steps out and comes into view. Something in my stomach plummets at the sight of him. And it's like I'm standing at that party in Amsterdam again. He hasn’t changed at all, still the larger than life man I remember, the man I idolized for my entire adult life. The sudden onslaught of memories hits me hard.
Especially when his eyes land on me. I become hyper aware of my inadequacies. My hair is too long. My beard isn't clean enough. My suit isn't expensive enough, and my walk isn't confident enough.
His eyes linger on mine for the eternity of a moment.
"Son, you remember Ellis," my dad says when they approach, framing it like a question. I nod and reach out to take his hand.
"Of course. Thank you for coming."
There's a spark of mischief in his eye as he reaches out to shake my hand. The sudden contact of our palms touching feels like ice in my veins. I'm living in Ellis Prior's shadow again.
My dad’s phone rings, and he peers down skeptically. “It’s Zara. Nash, show Ellis where he’ll be staying. I’ll be right back.”
As he rushes off, leaving me alone with a ghost from my past, I let out a forced exhale.
I glance up in a rush, shock flooding my bloodstream, but I control the urge to show it. Walking toward the house, I turn back as he follows. “Of course. It's just business. What happened in Amsterdam...water under the bridge, really. It's in the past." I wave my hand, trying to act calm even though my gut is so tightly wound I feel like I might explode at any moment.
I glance his way and our eyes meet. His brow is furrowed and his lips are gently parted, seeming like he doesn't believe me. "Okay, then."
It’s not until we reach the guest suite that I realize he’s making it sound like he’s the one to blame for what went down. It feels like manipulation. He’s trying to get on my good side, to pretend it was his fault one day I flipped a fucking switch.
“Listen,” I say as he drops his leather satchel on the desk. “I never told my dad—”
He puts up a hand. “Don’t worry about it. I won’t say a thing.”
“I didn’t even tell him we saw each other.”
“For nine months,” he replies like it’s a question.
“The whole time. He has no idea.”
Ellis nods, and I have to glance away because seeing him here, standing in my dad’s old bedroom feels like a system overload. Suddenly, his eyes fixate on the window as he squints.
“Is that your girlfriend?”
“What?” Looking past him, I see Hanna walking toward the house in nothing but a pair of tight yoga shorts and a sports bra. Jesus, woman. Put some clothes on.
“No, she’s not,” I reply quickly, but then regret it. That’s exactly what I should have said she was. Make it very fucking clear from the start she is off-limits…and so am I. “She’s Zara’s friend. And she’ll be staying here for a few days.”
He nods, then glances at me. I’m standing so close to him I can smell his cologne and the product in his hair, so I quickly shuffle away, moving toward the door.
“I’ll let you get settled for a while. Thalia, the housekeeper, will be in shortly to get you anything you need. We can start this afternoon if you’re ready. I’ll be in the office all day.” Everything comes out in a rush, and I do my best not to stammer as I talk, too afraid to look at him while I do.
“Yes, sir,” he replies, and it grates on my nerves the second it comes out of his mouth.
He’s definitely fucking with me, and I already regret inviting him here. The problem with Ellis is he knows me too well. He knows exactly who he’s fucking with and he does it anyway. He loves to see me fired up.
7
Amsterdam
“She was sleeping with both of you at the same time?"
Ellis is sitting across from me at a small bar in the city center, and it only took three rounds of dry gin before everything started coming out. Every secret I told myself I would keep buried I just puked up to not just anyone, but my dad’s old friend. But he’s my friend now too, maybe even more than my dad’s.
"Yeah, but it was fine. We made it clear it was okay."
"But you had her first?" There is a mischievous smirk on his face that is making my cheeks flush hot. I don’t talk to people about this. I certainly don't bring up how the girl I was fucking suddenly started fucking my dad and how I was okay with that, to the point where we actually shared her. But in my defense, I was not surprised when she chose him. I guess I could have stuck around and stayed in the equation, but it wasn't right.
"She and I were never serious."
"Uh-huh." He doesn’t sound like he believes me.
"What?" I ask with a laugh.
With his pursed lips and raised brows, the skepticism is written all over his face. "Do you think it would have been serious if he hadn't stepped in?"
I stare down at the gin-soaked ice in my glass. I told Zara I loved her. I had never uttered those words to anyone, and I said them first. I remember that night pretty fucking vividly. It was my all-in move. My last ditch attempt to win her over, but by that point I had already lost.
"She's happy. He's happy. I’m…fine."
"Yeah, you look fine," he laughs.
"I'm serious. I'm not ready to settle down. Fuck that."
He's smiling again. Ellis and I have made a habit of coming out for drinks every Friday after work. We sit at one of the many pubs downtown and have a few casual drinks. It's never anything more than that. It feels like we're always on the brink of doing something crazy, but one of us usually calls it quits when the night is about to take a turn.
I, for one, am in the mood to go nuts tonight. We have testing all week at work and I need a release. I don't really know if Ellis is down for that. After our few meetups I've gotten the feeling there is more to him than he's letting on. Like a Hyde under the Jekyll. And I'm waiting to see what he's like when he lets loose.
"Don't you know that girl?" he asks, and I turn to see a familiar British blonde at the bar with another girl.
"Barely. That's the girl at the party the night you and I first saw each other here."
"That's what I thought. Why don't you invite her over?" he asks. My gaze lingers on him for a moment. I can’t tell if he's trying to wingman or if he wants her for himself. But the thought of trying to land this girl in front of him has me feeling inadequate again. Don't fuck this up, Nash.
Grabbing what's left of my drink and throwing it back, I feel the burn down my throat as I walk over to where Britta is sitting with her friend. Softly I rest a hand on her back before she notices me, and when she turns around, her eyes light up.
"Nash!" Her arm snakes its way around my waist before she introduces me to her friend whose name I don't even catch. After a short moment of small talk, I point toward the table where Ellis is sitting, and both of the girls freeze for a moment. Even I can appreciate how he looks like a god under the dim lighting with his arm resting against the back of the seat and looking as if he doesn't have a care in the world.
"Come join us," I tell them.
Britta looks at her friend with intensity and they seem to have a silent conversation with just their eyes before they both smile my way. As we make our way over, I notice the way Britta instantly takes the seat next to Ellis, leaving her friend to sit next to me.
Ellis is a smooth mother fucker. He puts his arm behind Britta, compliments her, finds ways to touch her without it being creepy and I'm too busy eating it all up to even pay her friend any attention. During a quiet moment I do have the good sense to catch her name, Alyssa, and she tells me a little bit about her job and how she's from Canada, but the conversation runs dry, and after a few more rounds of drinks, all of which she skips on, it becomes glaringly obvious she's not feeling it. A little after midnight she makes an excuse about needing to work in the morning and leaves.
Britta stays. None of us are really drunk, but we're far from sober. So, when Ellis suggests we take the party back to his apartment, a wave of nervous excitement manages to make its way past all of the beer and gin into my bloodstream. Should I bow out? Leave her for him? I don't exactly feel like a third wheel, and he did look at me as he asked it.
Fuck it. When we get up to leave, I stick with them, walking together to Ellis’s place which isn’t far.
Of course, Ellis lives in a beautiful fucking apartment outside the city center. It's not huge, and it's more of a row house squeezed between a collection of other apartments.
Once inside, he puts on some music and pours us all more drinks. I find myself staring out the window toward the canal in front of his house when Britta joins me. Ellis is somewhere else in the house for a moment when she whispers to me, "I can't believe I'm really here."
I laugh. "Why?"
When she looks at me, there's a hint of humor in her eyes. "You really don't know what he's like, do you?"
"Ellis? Yeah I've known him like my whole life."
This time she really laughs, looking behind her to make sure he's not within earshot. "He has quite a reputation, Nas
h. When Ellis brings you back to his apartment, there's usually a good story to go along with it."
I swallow. Maybe I am a third wheel.
"I won't get in your way."
Before I can turn away feeling like an idiot, she puts a hand on my arm. "I wasn't talking about me, Nash."
"What are you talking about then?" I ask, feeling very fucking lost.
She only laughs into her drink. Just then, he comes back into the room. "Am I interrupting something?" he asks.
"Not at all," I stammer quickly.
Ellis is holding a joint in his fingers, and he gestures to the back of the house. "The rooftop patio is lovely. Let’s go up and have a smoke." Then he looks at me. As if he's specifically inviting me.
I’m getting a strange vibe, like something has changed. And instead of backing out or walking away, I follow him. I’ll unpack that later.
There's an outdoor sofa and two chairs under a canopy on the rooftop, and Ellis was right, it is nice up here. Britta sits first, and Ellis gestures for me to sit next to her. I want to tell him she doesn't want me. She wants him, but I don't argue, taking my spot next to her. Immediately after sitting down, she cozies up next to me. Ellis takes the chair across from us, leaning back to light his joint.
Once he starts passing it, I only take a couple small hits. I'm already paranoid as it is. What the fuck did Britta mean downstairs? It's like she knows what's up and I have no fucking clue. Is Ellis trying to hook her and me up? Is he into some kinky orgy shit and that's what she's talking about?
Then the final thought, the one that has the hairs standing on my arms and neck: is he into me?
The patio grows quiet, and Britta scoots even closer until she's practically on my lap. Why is she fucking with me when she could have him?
He's staring at us, eyes hooded and dangerous looking.
"I think he likes to watch," she whispers, but not so quietly he can't hear. My mind races, and I stare at him, feeling a little confused.