by Brooks, Abby
“So now what?” she asked. “Do I need to check in? Put a credit card on file? Sign my name in blood? I’ve heard it’s hard to get a room here.”
I stood, then leaned on the back of the chair. “Nope. Everything’s already taken care of and you absolutely won’t be paying. It’s yours for as long as you’ll be here.”
The next question was obvious. How long will you be here, anyway? But I pushed it away like a child humming with his fingers in his ears. I wanted to revel in her company and ignore her impending departure
“Tomorrow I’m pretty jampacked with tours, but my schedule is wide open today. I’m all yours. Interested in going out on the water? I know a place.”
“A place, huh? What kind of place?”
“A cove a few miles out. It’s beautiful. And secluded. And, the last time I took my family there, I’m pretty sure Cat fell in love with Lucas, so you know, it’s not my fault if you fall in love with me.” I held up my hands. “Just sayin.’”
Maisie laughed lightly. “Nothing to worry about there. I’ve been in love with you since we were six years old.”
She was joking. I knew it. It was clear through the lilt in her voice and the twinkle in her eyes, but her words hit me harder than that kid in seventh grade. I did my best not to let her see it as we got her luggage from her car and I escorted her to her bungalow. I chatted happily, as if her words meant nothing to me. And really, they shouldn’t have meant anything. Sure, I spent years six through thirteen of my life swearing I would marry her. But years fourteen through twenty-six made me see how silly I had been to believe that.
Maisie was nothing but a childhood fantasy.
The product of a little kid’s romantic streak. A kid that didn’t understand how much life could change in the blink of an eye.
She was also one hell of a woman, whose soft hair kept brushing my shoulder as she leaned into me on our way to her room.
I swung open the door to her bungalow with a flourish. “Welcome home, beautiful.”
Maisie’s eyes bulged and her jaw dropped as she took in the tastefully decorated space with a four-poster bed, luxurious tub, and a walk-out patio with a private ocean view. “I knew the hotel had grown since we were little, but wow! Look at this place!” She darted around the room, checking out the amenities, ooh’ing and ahh’ing over the fabric and color choices. She flopped onto the bed with a sigh, then rolled onto her side, rubbing an appreciative hand over the comforter. “It’s so soft. And inviting. I’m not sure I’ll ever want to leave.”
The innuendo settled over us like the heavy scent of perfume, invisible, yet impossible to ignore.
“Good.” I smiled at her. “Don’t.” Before she could respond, I hurried on because it was either get the hell out of there or join her on that bed and ravage her on the spot. “There’s a few things I need to get ready down at the dock, so how about you take some time to get settled in and then meet me at the boat at one?”
Seduction was an art. There was something powerful about the slow build of want and need. Waiting until the electricity between us climbed to a fevered pitch so that the sparks exploded into full on wildfire when we finally came together.
The cove was a perfect space to stoke the embers growing between us. To learn more about who she was and what she wanted and then, with the quiet lap of water against the boat and the stars glittering to life in the darkening sky, move in to show her just how much it meant to me that she stayed when she was supposed to leave.
Maisie nodded her agreement and I beelined out of there before all the dirty thoughts in my head took control and my ‘art of seduction’ looked more like a Kindergartner with a crayon than Picasso with a paintbrush.
* * *
Maisie
By the time I made my way down to the docks, I had answered approximately one million emails and texts from people less than thrilled about my extended stay in the Keys. When they found out said extended stay didn’t exactly have an expiration date? Yeah. There were a lot of people very angry with Maisie Brown.
It wasn’t like me to bail on work responsibilities and I already felt guilty about it before sending what felt like several hundred apologies to irate clients and co-workers. I did get one very sweet text from Brighton, congratulating me on my decision to stay with ‘picture frame boy’ and wishing me well on my sex-cation. I still wasn’t sure that was where Caleb and I were headed, especially after I did everything but rip off my clothes and drop down on my knees in my room and he didn’t take the bait.
You’re overanalyzing and that never works out well for you. Stop it. Go with the flow. Follow your instincts. They haven’t let you down yet.
I bobbed my head as I talked myself back from the edge of anxiety. Nothing about my life turned out the way I planned it, yet it had worked out to be amazing anyway. Worrying too much about how something was supposed to happen almost always resulted in a frustrated Maisie with less than stellar results. When I relaxed enough to let go and trust the process, things always fell into place.
The sun shone down, glinting off the sand as my sandals kicked up dust behind me. I could see Caleb, shirt off, sweat gleaming on his tanned skin, muscles flexing as he worked the ropes and readied the boat for our little adventure. The closer I got to him, the more the guilt over missing work faded. I had dedicated my life to the people at Shift. This was a rare moment for myself and there was no reason to feel bad about being a little self-centered. Self-care was important. Especially when it came in the form of Caleb Hutton.
He glanced up and saw me making my way onto the dock, a grin sliding across his face as he lifted a hand in greeting. “Hey there, beautiful,” he drawled in that oh-so-sexy but oh-so-fake southern accent of his.
“Hey yourself,” I said as I took the hand he offered and stepped onto the boat.
He worked with a laid-back precision defined the man he had become. Confident and smooth. Easygoing, but exacting. Being around him made me relax enough to forget my phone that I buried in my bag and the onslaught of messages that had certainly come in since the last time I checked. The wind moved through my hair and I allowed myself to sit back and do nothing but watch Caleb in his element as he navigated us through the water into a cove that was truly breathtaking.
“Oh, wow,” I breathed as the boat slowed to a stop. Clear water glittered in the sunlight. Palm trees dotted a secluded beach. “It’s perfect.” I turned to Caleb, whose gaze was locked on my smiling face.
“It really is,” he replied, and I got the distinct impression he wasn’t talking about the view.
Twelve
Maisie
We swam for a while, diving right off the boat into the cool water. Then we lounged for a while, salt drying on our skin as we baked in the sun. We talked about all the things. Our hopes. Our dreams. Our memories. The time we spent together as kids and all the silly games we used to play. The strange paths life opened for us, that led us right back here to each other.
“You know,” I said, leaning back in my seat and closing my eyes. “I never really saw myself becoming a talent agent. I always saw myself helping people…thanks to you and your influence on my life. You helped me so much, protecting me, feeding me, making me feel like I belonged to something bigger than myself. I wanted to pass that feeling on to as many people as I could. But an agent?” I gave a little shrug of my shoulders. “I’m just as surprised as anyone that this is where I ended up.”
Caleb draped an arm over his seat and crossed his ankle over his knee. “If I’m being honest, LA is the last place I would have imagined you.”
I bobbed my head. “Yeah. Me too. But I’m happy there. I am helping people, even if it’s not the way I always assumed I would. It’s a very fulfilling life.”
I had said those words so many times in the last few years. It’s a very fulfilling life. Each time I said them—including today—I meant them with all of me. I had nothing but gratitude for the opportunities that had opened for me. For the chance encounters and
strange coincidences that led me to where I was. For all the hard work through high school and college that built up a reservoir of strength that helped me weather the demands my clients made each day.
This time though, the words seemed oddly hollow. Maybe it was the slew of angry messages from earlier. The sense that for all I was willing to sacrifice for other people, the second I wanted something for myself, they were offended by the choice.
I brushed those thoughts away. It was selfish of me to take more time off without planning for it first. My decisions didn’t just affect me. They rippled down through all the lives I touched. People had every right to be exasperated with me and I would make this it all up to them as soon as I could.
“That’s all that matters then, isn’t it?” Caleb asked. “Living a fulfilling life. What’s the point of it all if we can’t spend each day happy?”
Images of my parents, of the friends I met in Kentucky, of the people I worked with in LA popped into my head—all of them with stress humming along underneath the surface of their skin, a toxic blend of cortisol, adrenaline, and caffeine rocketing through their veins. “That’s a bit of a high bar, don’t you think?”
Caleb looked genuinely confused. “What? Expecting to enjoy life? I’d say that’s a low bar if you ask me.”
“The vast majority of people in the world would disagree with you.” I thought of the desperation I saw in the clients of Paradigm Shift Talent Agency. Those still waiting for their break were ready to do just about anything to get there. Those who had already gotten their were terrified they would fall from grace at any minute. Even living the dream didn’t guarantee happiness.
And our clients? They were the lucky ones. So many people struggled day in and day out. My family was a prime example. His family was a prime example—though their issues weren’t financial. I said as much and Caleb sighed.
“That’s the thing, though. Everyone is out chasing happiness like it’s a destination and I feel like we’ve all been sold a great big lie. Real happiness is accepting who we are, where we are, and knowing we’re being true to ourselves. Achievement. Money. Success. Those are false measures.”
“That’s easy to say for a person who came from money.” It didn’t even occur to me to censor myself until after the words were out of my mouth. Maybe LA had made me too bold. Maybe success had me thinking I could say anything and get away with it. Or maybe being with Caleb felt so natural, I didn’t have to be anyone but who I was. Whatever the reason, I probably could have said that with more grace and braced myself for his reaction.
“Maybe.” Caleb shrugged easily, not at all offended by my directness. “Though as soon as I was eighteen, I moved out of The Hut—and I hadn’t even graduated high school yet. Supported myself on a fast food salary until I could open up my business. Lived in an apartment with a terrible roommate and very little furniture. I made every financial mistake in the book, but I wouldn’t accept one single cent of support from my family because I wanted nothing to do with my father. While I have money now, and I had money as a kid, I do know what it’s like to want things you can’t have. To need things you can’t buy. I’ve done my fair share of worrying where my next meal would come from.”
This was the first I’d heard of this chapter in Caleb’s story and I leaned forward, inviting him to continue.
“My dad was a bad man, May-belle.” He offered a wry smile. “I wanted nothing to do with his lifestyle, so I created my own. My choices weren’t without hardships, but I learned early on what it was that made life seem easy and I just kept iterating until I found myself where I am now.”
“And where are you now?”
“Happy.”
I stared at him long and hard, trying to read between the lines, to hear the things he wasn’t saying and see if I got a sense that his story was as fake as that southern drawl of his. I found nothing.
Caleb gestured at the cove, the broad sweep of his arm taking in the water, the sky, the sun, and the sand. “I spend my days outside, enjoying the laughter of people around me, surrounded by some of the most beautiful scenery on the planet. How could I not be happy?”
The man had a point, and his confidence dazzled me. “And there isn’t anything that you want? Not one thing that has you thinking ‘if only I had this, my life would be complete?’”
Caleb gave me a smile that would charm the bikini off any tourist. “Well, there is one thing.”
He stood and held out his hand. I placed mine in his and he pulled me up, wrapping me in his arms and gently swaying to the rhythm of the waves. “I was going to wait until the sun set and the stars came out,” he said. “When the atmosphere was better suited for slow-dancing and honesty. But yes, there is one thing I want.” He ran a thumb along my cheek, one hand pressed into my lower back.
I draped my arms around his shoulders, swaying in time to his slow movements, falling into his bottomless blue eyes. “And just what might that be?”
Caleb pressed his cheek against mine. “See, there was this girl I used to know.” His words whispered in my hair and his lips brushed my ear. “And she was the best thing that ever happened to me.” He kissed the delicate skin on my neck, just below my jaw. “But she was taken from me before I ever got to see if I was being a foolish romantic or not.”
I tilted my head, allowing him better access to my throat as goosebumps flared to life down my spine. “Sounds like a cruel twist of fate to me.”
“Oh, it was.” He ran his hands along my waist. “So unbelievably cruel.”
“So, what is it you want?” I pulled back to meet his devastatingly handsome face. “What is that one thing that would make your life complete?”
“In this moment? Nothing more than a kiss.” And with that, he pressed his lips against mine, his strong arms supporting me as I opened to him. My tongue darted out to meet his as the molten heat of desire surged to life in my core.
“And what about now?” I asked, my lips brushing his. “Now that you’ve had your kiss?”
“Now, I just want the girl.” He cupped the back of my head, angling his mouth over mine, fully encompassing me. One hand grabbed my butt and I wrapped my legs around his waist. Caleb took my weight with ease and I moaned into his mouth, just in time for the sound of my phone to catch my attention.
I stiffened with the instant urge to answer and the ingrained fear that I was missing something important that would fall to pieces if I didn’t deal with it in that very moment. But in that moment, he was the only thing worth my time and I gave myself to him, returning his kiss with heat and passion. He lowered himself to his knees, depositing me on a chair and spreading my legs with his body as he cupped my face between his strong hands.
My phone buzzed again and this time, he paused. “Do you need to get that?”
I shook my head and kissed him again, even as the heat between us cooled. My phone buzzed again. Then again. I closed my eyes. “I’m sorry,” I said, wishing I’d thought to put the thing on silent.
Caleb ran a thumb over my bottom lip. “Don’t even worry about it. Just consider that a hint at what’s to come.”
I scrambled out of the seat and dug into my bag for my phone, cursing as I saw my boss’ name on the caller ID. “I’m so sorry…” I began before accepting the call and turning away as I put the phone to my ear.
Thirteen
Caleb
Maisie’s entire demeanor changed the moment she answered her call. Tension seethed from her posture as she paced the small deck. She rubbed her forehead as her words rat-a-tat-tatted into the phone, then pinched the bridge of her nose as she spoke in a tight voice.
“Look, I don’t care what he said—” She paused as whoever was on the other end interrupted her. “Yeah, well, West’s an ass. A talented ass, but an ass nonetheless. You can’t—”
Another unfinished sentence and a long sigh as she held the phone away from her ear and flipped the screen the bird. All the happiness left her face, leaving nothing but the grit and determ
ination that had gotten her to where she was. It didn’t look pleasant. Not at all. It looked like she was gearing up for a fistfight. Like lives hung in the balance. Like maybe, all the talk about her fabulous life was covering up some not so wonderful truths.
To me, the Los Angeles fame scene had always seemed like a place for cutthroats who were willing to do anything to get what they wanted. Surely, the assessment was unfair. Afterall, I had never been there to see for myself. But the sudden shift in Maisie’s demeanor wasn’t doing anything to change the way I saw that city. It wasn’t where dreamers went to be discovered. It was where souls went to die.
She finished her call with a low growl and her fingers clicked furiously on the screen as she sent several messages, muttering to herself the entire time. Her face was a mess of frustration as she chewed on the inside of her lip and scowled. Finally, she tossed her phone into her bag. Took a moment to run her hands through her hair and gather it over her shoulder before turning to me.
“I’m really sorry about that,” she said, smiling like she hadn’t just stepped out of an anger tornado. “It’s kind of what I get for taking time off at the last second like this.” She sauntered my way, her smile saying one thing—I’m all yours, Moose—and her eyes saying another—I’m still pissed about that call. “Now, where were we?”
I held out my hands, inviting her into my lap. “I think we were somewhere along right here,” I said before taking one soft, supple lip between my teeth then releasing it to kiss her deeply, hoping I could soothe her frazzled soul with tenderness and undivided attention.
For as much as I tried to reclaim the heat of the moment, Maisie seemed a million miles away. Finally, she pressed her forehead to mine. “I really am sorry…” she began again but didn’t finish the sentence. I couldn’t tell if she was sorry for answering the call, for being distracted by whatever was happening, or for her life in general.
