by Nina Singh
She was mistaken. It was her mother’s voice that greeted her on the other end.
“Are you on the beach, enjoying some fruity frou-frou drink with a paper umbrella?” The question was asked in a mean-spirited and mocking tone.
Celeste took a fortifying breath. The way her mother’s words slurred and rolled into one another gave all the indications that she was the one indulging in drink at the moment. And Wendy’s choice of beverage would never be described as frou-frou. Conversations with her mother were always beyond draining under the best of circumstances. When she was drinking, they bordered on traumatic.
Though she could be a caring and nurturing parent when sober, Wendy Frajedi was a mean drunk.
“Hello, Mother. I just walked into my room after picking up some things from the resort shop, as a matter of fact.”
“Huh. Must be nice. Do you know how much I need around the house? If only I had a daughter who was willing to help out with some shopping for me.” Wendy put extra emphasis on the last word.
Celeste pinched the bridge of her nose and kicked the door shut behind her. “I left a sizable amount of cash in the jar last time I was there, Mom.”
“That doesn’t mean you’re around to help me shop and put the stuff away now, does it?”
She wanted to tell her parent that she was perfectly capable of getting her own groceries or whatever else might be needed. But opposing her mother in any way when she was like this only led to long, drawn-out arguments that merely served to frustrate and demoralize her, sometimes to the brink of tears. As much as she hated to admit it, Wendy Frajedi was the one person on the planet who could make her feel like she hadn’t done anything right in her life, even when she knew it was 99 percent the vodka talking. It was just that the 1 percent delivered a mountain of hurt.
Celeste had long ago given up trying push back when her mother was in her cups. The tension only escalated if she did so. No. Her mom would have to get off her chest all that she felt compelled to say. Then she would sleep off the bender until a pounding hangover headache woke her up. At which point a different kind of misery would befall her. The woman refused treatment as she insisted she didn’t have a problem, that she only drank once in a while.
“How come you never invite me or your sister on some fancy-schmancy vacation?” Wendy now demanded to know.
Like déjà vu. The two of them went through this every year. More accurately, they went through it every time Celeste traveled. “You know you don’t like airplanes, Mom. Tara can hardly be expected to travel with the baby. And last year she was pregnant.”
Her mother grunted in disgust at her response. “There are plenty of places we can drive to together, aren’t there?”
Celeste couldn’t think of anything less relaxing than driving long-distance with her sibling and parent in order to spend several days together. Of course, she didn’t bother to say so.
“I needed to get away, Mom. I’ll make it up to you.”
Her mother’s peal of laughter screeched loudly into the phone. “Yeah, right. Like I’d believe that.”
“Is there somewhere specific you’d like to visit?” Celeste threw out the question, just to play devil’s advocate. Her mother had no real desire to travel. Right now, she just wanted to chastise her daughter for doing so.
“How should I know? You’re the smarty pants in the family.”
And her mother would never forgive her for being smart. Or driven. Or successful. She would never understand her older child’s fierce desire to escape the cloud of destitution their family had been born under. Celeste sighed. Her mother usually took longer to get to this point in the conversation. Next would come the tirade; the outlining of all the things that were wrong with Wendy’s life and how impossible it was to better any of it.
“I’m a little too old to be watching that baby, you know,” her mother began, describing Tara’s nine-month-old daughter. Her only grandchild. “Since you’re not around, I’ve had to do it more times than I’d like to think.”
Celeste didn’t bother to remind her mother that she’d only been gone for about three days. Wendy couldn’t have babysat more than once or twice since then.
But logic wasn’t the point of these conversations. “Sorry, Mother. How is little Nat?” she asked in an attempt to change the subject.
“Loud. Cries a lot. Must be teething or somethin’. I tell ya, I couldn’t wait to get outta there.”
Celeste bit back the surge of anger that suddenly rose to the surface. Tara’s daughter was the sweetest, most loving baby, despite the lineage of women she came from. Celeste uttered a prayer to heaven at least once a day that the pleasant nature the child had been born with somehow carried through as she grew up. She’d do everything she could to ensure that happened.
One thing was for certain, Celeste would have to arrange for a professional babysitter for the child the next time she traveled. She might even have to look into hiring one now long-distance. She didn’t want Wendy around the child if she was growing resentful of the responsibility. Celeste was completely confident that Wendy wouldn’t drink around the baby. She preferred to drink alone in the privacy of her own apartment, without judging eyes advising her to slow down or stop.
But it simply wasn’t worth the risk.
Celeste made a mental note to look into a sitter first thing tomorrow morning and tell Tara.
But Wendy’s next words made the issue a moot one. “Thank goodness I won’t have to watch her anymore. Not anytime soon. Looks like your sister was let go again.”
Celeste didn’t even know why she was surprised. It was a wonder her sister ever got hired at all. She tended to arrive late to work and then slacked off once she got there. No doubt Tara’s latest setback had something of a hand in her mother’s afternoon of binge drinking.
“That was her third job this year, wasn’t it?”
Her mother pounced. “Well, I guess we can’t all be as perfect as you.” Bingo. Her mother had now hit all the usual notes. Celeste hoped she felt some semblance of relief now that it was out of her system. For the moment and until next time.
Celeste resisted the urge to ask her outright. Feel better now, Mom?
Sadly enough, the answer was still no. And Wendy would feel awful once she woke up and remembered how she’d spoken to her eldest daughter. Then the barrage of apologies would start.
Until it all happened again.
* * *
By the time he’d walked the entirety of the resort for the third time, Reid had to admit that he was trying to seek Celeste out. It galled him that she hadn’t responded yet to his proposal.
He also had to admit that he’d be profoundly disappointed if she ultimately turned him down. Which was sort of funny if one thought about it. Before he’d laid eyes on her, he had a determined set plan in place to attend the excursions by himself and then meet with a marketing team to see how best to advertise them. Now, the thought of going by himself held absolutely zero appeal.
He was doing this for the sake of expanding resort bookings. He wanted this place to be the first resort people thought of when they decided to vacation in Jamaica. Celeste could really help him toward that goal. That was the only purpose behind him asking her to accompany him.
So why did a surge of pleasure shoot through his chest when he finally did spot her? Until he approached, that is. The closer he got to where she sat, the more he could see something was wrong.
She sat alone at a tall table at the outdoor pub by the stage. A plate of French fries sat untouched in front of her. She was staring at the glass she held which must have once been a frozen drink but now appeared to be a mixture of icy slush and dark rum.
An unfamiliar sensation of concern settled in his gut.
“Something wrong with the fries? Do I have to speak to the chefs?”
She blinked up at him in confusion, holdi
ng her hand to her forehead to block the sun in her eyes. “Reid.” She gave him a smile that didn’t seem quite genuine enough to reach her eyes.
“Were the fries not done to your liking?”
She looked down at her plate in surprise, as if she’d forgotten it was there. Maybe she had. She’d certainly been deep in thought when he’d approached her.
“I guess I wasn’t all that hungry.”
“May I?” he gestured to the other empty stool at her high top table.
“By all means.”
She began to speak as soon as he sat down. “I know I still owe you an answer.”
It surprised him that her failure to respond to his proposal was the furthest thing from his mind at the moment. His first concern was why she appeared so, well, sad.
“This is going to sound like the worst kind of pickup line, but...” he hesitated. Maybe probing would be overstepping his bounds.
“Yes?”
“It really is such a shame to look so down on such a beautiful day in paradise.”
She let out a small laugh. “You’re right. That does sound like a bad pickup line. And here I thought you would have a better game. Given your reputation as such a player and all.”
He laughed in return, ducked his head in mock embarrassment. “I might be out of practice. I’ve been a little busy with this place.”
“Fair enough.”
What little there was of the smile on her face faltered then disappeared completely.
“Is everything all right?” he asked, now downright worried for her.
“Just fine.” He definitely didn’t believe her. Was debating whether to push when she spoke again. “And I’d like to say yes, by the way.”
For the briefest moment, he wasn’t sure what she was referring to. Then understanding dawned. She was agreeing to help him with the marketing ideas.
But right now, all he felt was concern. Celeste looked far from a woman on vacation. Rather, she looked forlorn and melancholy.
Not that it was any of his business.
“Did you hear me?” she asked.
He summoned a pleased grin. “Glad to hear it. You won’t regret this. Let’s shake on it,” he suggested, holding out his hand.
Her hand felt small and dainty in his large palm. He could probably wrap his thumb and forefinger around her tiny wrist. It occurred to him just how vulnerable she looked. Formidable businesswoman or not, Celeste Frajedi had a softness about her that set his protective instincts at high guard status. As backward and downright Neanderthal as that sounded.
He wondered if a man was behind her current state of sadness. That thought had him reeling with an unreasonable degree of anger. She’d been hurt enough romantically for one lifetime.
Celeste had so much going for her. Any man would be a fool to treat her poorly in any way. How shameful that he hadn’t seen that three years ago. Something had blinded him then to Jack’s faults.
He’d been told more than once that he could be loyal to a fault. Next time he and Jack crossed paths, he would have a few words he’d like to share with the other man.
Not that it would be any time soon. The two of them had certainly grown apart since the ill-fated wedding. Reid couldn’t even recall the last time the two of them had spoken to each other live. For all he knew, Celeste and Jack were still in touch. Maybe Jack was the reason for her current state of sorrow. He felt his neck muscles tighten at the thought. After all, the last time he’d witnessed such sorrow on her face, Jack had been the precise cause.
Without thinking, he blurted out the pesky question that had been lurking in his brain. “So, what exactly went down that day?”
Celeste didn’t even pretend to not know what he was referring to.
Her lips tightened into an ironic smile. “You’d like to ask me about my failed wedding. Now of all times.”
He wasn’t sure what that last part meant, decided to push on anyway. “Only if you’d like to talk about it.” She certainly appeared as if she could use the excuse to get something off her mind.
“You said yourself that he and I seemed to be incompatible. Turns out you were right. As I’m sure you heard from the man himself.”
“I’d like to hear your take on it,” he prompted.
She shrugged ever so slightly, trailed a finger over the condensation down the side of her glass before she finally spoke. “Jack gave me a final ultimatum as a test. And I failed miserably.”
* * *
Celeste couldn’t bring herself to look up away from her glass. But she could feel Reid’s questioning eyes on her nevertheless. He remained silent at her cryptic remark, simply waited for her to continue. But she’d be hard pressed to decide exactly where to begin. The troublesome signs that her engagement was doomed had grown more and more frequent as the wedding day had approached. She’d just chosen to ignore them.
“What kind of test?” Reid wanted to know.
This was all so difficult to talk about, Celeste thought. She’d done her best to try to put it all behind her. To try to forget. What kind of woman was left behind at the altar? How could she ever trust in her feelings again when she’d fallen for a man who had been cruel enough to do such a thing?
Visions of that nightmarish day flooded her brain. Her coworkers seated in the pews, her friends from school, various other invitees. All of them giving her looks of unmitigated pity. The disappointment flooding her mother’s face. She’d never felt such a strong desire to sink into the floor and disappear. There’d been no father to walk her down the aisle. Celeste had asked a former mentor to do her the honor. The look on the man’s face as they’d waited and waited for a groom who’d never appeared had nearly crushed her soul. Bless him, he’d been the one to finally make the announcement as she’d fled, trying to squelch the flood of tears before she could get away. She’d vowed never to give her heart to another man unless she was absolutely sure of his love and commitment.
“Celeste? What kind of test?” Reid repeated.
She forced herself to shake off the thoughts. “A week before the wedding, Jack decided he wanted to elope.”
Reid’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. She’d always wondered if Reid had been in on the idea as best man. His reaction just now made it clear he hadn’t been.
“I see,” Reid answered, clearly confused.
He didn’t really. And there was no way to explain it to him, Celeste thought. Jack’s sudden decision to forgo a traditional ceremony had had nothing to do with wanting a private event between the two of them.
It had everything to do with being embarrassed in front of his friends and loved ones about the kind of family she came from. Eloping would keep Tara and her mother out of sight. The love Jack supposedly felt for her wasn’t enough to overcome the shame he felt about her family.
She’d called his bluff. And he’d walked away.
“I take it you weren’t keen on the idea,” Reid said.
She shrugged. “I wanted a traditional wedding,” she answered simply, leaving out the more relevant part—mainly that her fiancé had been too much of a snob to accept her for who she was and where she came from. In hindsight, Jack’s strategy was all too clear. He’d wanted a cowardly way out of marrying her. So he’d given her a choice that wasn’t really a choice. How could she have turned her back on the two most important people in her life on the biggest day of her life?
Reid’s expression held every indication that he suspected there was far more to the story than she was telling. Well, this was as much as she was willing to divulge. As much as her heart could take to reveal.
“I’ve known Jack for most of my life,” Reid finally spoke after a long bout of silence, one where she couldn’t quite meet his questioning gaze. “I’ve seen him act downright reckless all too often.” He paused to take a deep breath and looked away off to the side. “But losing you h
as to be the most foolish thing he’s ever done.”
* * *
His words hung heavy and loaded in the air. Reid watched as Celeste’s eyes grew wide. He didn’t regret what he’d just said, but decided not to push the conversation any further. Celeste also appeared to have said all she was willing to say. For now.
She slowly pushed her glass away before standing. “Now that that’s all out of the way, I should go back to my room and try to get an early night. I’m guessing we have quite the day ahead of us tomorrow. It won’t do for me to be tired and sluggish.”
Reid gently grasped her arm. “I have a better idea.”
Her gaze dropped to where he touched her. For the briefest moment, neither one of them moved. Electricity seemed to crackle through the early evening air.
Finally, Celeste slowly sat back down and broke the silence. “What would that be?”
He motioned to her full plate. “Well, you clearly haven’t eaten. We’ll have to remedy that. Aside from not being tired tomorrow, we can’t have you malnourished.”
“Hardly a danger, but what did you have in mind?”
“Dinner to start with?”
Her eyebrows lifted in question. “Just to start? What then?”
He couldn’t help but grin. “It happens to be Thursday.”
“So?”
“Don’t you read the daily newsletter? Thursdays are karaoke nights on the beach. Tonight’s theme is Christmas carols.”
Celeste’s spine stiffened. “I don’t think that’s really—”
But he stopped her. “Karaoke happens to be one of the activities we’d like to highlight when advertising. We had a deal that you just agreed to, remember?”
Her look of horror told him she wanted badly to forget.
* * *
She really needed to head this development off at the pass. The steely set of determination in Reid’s eyes only upped her panic. He couldn’t possibly see her as a karaoke kind of gal in any way, shape, or form.
