by Taryn Belle
“What about the cat story?” Jennifer asked, gazing up at him under lash extensions. “We’re opening in a month. We don’t need any bad press right now.”
James smiled reassuringly. Several months ago, his workers had bulldozed a small section of naturally occurring vegetation to make way for the center’s planned outdoor gardens. But it turned out that five stray cats lived in those bushes, and the woman who fed them every day went ballistic, calling the press and raising a huge animal rights– and environmental-fueled stink. James got it; when he was little, he and his mother used to feed the stray dogs that hung around their concrete apartment complex, and he remembered crying when his favorite mutt failed to turn up one morning. After the woman complained, James had gotten his staff to take immediate action, turning the whole thing into a tall, cool glass of lemonade.
“It went away,” James assured Jennifer. “I personally visited Mrs. Lopez with photos of the cats in their new homes. When she finally realized they were much better off, she took the protest signs down from her lawn and even called the Herald to share the story. It was the heart-warmer of the day.”
Jennifer tilted her head at him. “And just like that, Ellison Enterprises was golden again. You must have the magic touch.”
“I believe that would be you,” James said sincerely. “Both projects I’ve done with you so far have surpassed our projections.”
“Let’s hope this one does the same,” Jennifer said, glancing around. “As well as the Moretta project. When do you break ground on that one?”
James’s smile didn’t slip. “I think I mentioned that I’m still working out a couple of details. But I’m going there in two weeks, and I should be able to work it all out then.” He searched his brain for a safe change of subject. The truth was that the Moretta project was currently stressing him out for a number of reasons, but that was information better kept to himself.
“I’m sure you will,” Jennifer agreed. “You know me, James—I hate delays. Once I make a decision, I like fast and furious.” She crossed her arms over her chest to squeeze her breasts together slightly.
“That I do,” he replied, keeping his eyes on her face. He extended his hand to the side. “Would you like to see the restaurant?”
Jennifer ran a hand down her ponytail and glanced at her watch. “Actually, I was thinking that a celebration drink is in order.”
James groaned inwardly, his brain scrambling to find an excuse. Just then his phone vibrated in his pocket. Saved by the bell, he thought as he glanced down at the screen: Kiki Becker. His cousin—nothing urgent, and he hated the rudeness of taking a call in the middle of a meeting, but right now he really needed an out. Excusing himself to Jennifer, he walked a distance away from her and picked up. “Kiki.”
“Cuz. You still single these days?”
He grinned. Same old Kiki—no pleasantries, just a quick cut to the chase. “As if I’d have it any other way. What’s up?”
“Just that I’m about to make your day. How would you like to go to my wedding with the hottest woman in Atlanta?”
“As in a blind date? No can do, cuz—you know that’s not my scene.”
“I’m betting you’ll make an exception when you see her.”
“You sound pretty confident.”
“I am. Laina Rose—you can look her up. But before you do...”
“Yeah?”
“Unless she makes the first move, she’s off-limits.”
“Then what’s in it for me?” he joked.
“Consider it a favor. She’s my best friend from high school. Awesome girl—funny, smart, a bit of an activist. Actually, I kind of owe her my life, since she’s the whole reason I moved to Moretta in the first place.”
“You mean she lives there?”
“No, she’s just...been there many times.” James thought her tone was slightly evasive. “Anyway, she’s had a rough go with her ex, and he’s going to be at the wedding. I convinced her that a little arm candy goes a long way in a situation like that. So, yeah—I’m fully using you. Just so you know.”
James shook his head affectionately. Blind dates definitely weren’t his scene, but there wasn’t much he wouldn’t do for his cousin. “Okay, but we’re talking a full week together here. What if she can’t stand me?”
“That’s a distinct possibility—”
“Gee, thanks.”
“—in which case you’re free to go your separate ways.”
He hesitated. “Can I think about it?”
“Of course. I’ll call you back in ten minutes.”
“You’re cute. Later.”
After James hung up, a quick glance at Jennifer told him she was now on a call herself, so he used his phone to pull up Laina Rose’s Facebook profile.
Her photo was taken from a distance in front of a mountainous background. It looked like she was dressed for a hike, and from what he could tell she was attractive enough—not that it really mattered, as he wasn’t about to break his no-first-move word to Kiki anyway. He was about to turn his phone off again when he remembered his cousin’s vague remarks about Laina’s connection to the island. Curious, he pulled up Google and typed her name into the search engine.
A few minutes later, he looked up from his phone with a grin on his face. It was almost too good to be true, but why shouldn’t he get something out of the deal too?
He fired a text to Kiki: I’m in.
CHAPTER TWO
AS LAINA DROVE her rented golf cart away from Moretta’s open-air airport, she focused on trying to relax her body one muscle at a time. Her jaw felt tight, her arms were tense and her stomach was thudding dully. Part of her stress was the result of the long flight to Barbados followed by the tiny puddle jumper to Moretta, but she knew that more of it had to do with her destination: her family estate. Though Moretta was tiny—consisting of only ninety-two properties on three square miles—and Laina had come here to visit Kiki many times since she’d moved here, she’d always managed to avoid her childhood second home. Today she would be setting foot on the property for the first time in over a decade.
For as long as Laina could remember, this island had been part of her life. With its lush tropical vegetation, picturesque white sand beaches and clear turquoise water, it was impossible not to love. Though Moretta was now established as a retreat for celebrities, it had originally been built up by a group of judges and high-ranking politicians who’d recognized its beauty early on and capitalized on it. Laina’s paternal grandparents, both in politics, were among its earliest inhabitants and had constructed Hibiscus Heights, which they’d eventually passed down to Laina’s parents. But her similarities with her family didn’t extend far beyond their mutual love of the island. Laina had always been different from her parents and two older brothers, who embraced the enviable position they’d been born into and used it to their advantage. She didn’t begrudge them that; she just didn’t feel the same way. Introspective as a girl, she’d often pondered the issue of class inequality and wondered at its unfairness. Along with her other passion of environmental causes, she’d done school essays on the class divisions and delighted in arguing her opinions on social justice. Laina understood clearly how lucky she’d been to be raised with such privilege, but she’d desperately wanted to blaze her own trail in life—a trail her parents simply didn’t understand. Which was exactly why coming back to Hibiscus Heights after more than a decade away made her feel like a sellout hypocrite, even if she was only doing so to help out a friend.
Laina could see the estate in the distance now, rising like a mirage from the top of the hill. As she pulled her golf cart into the long driveway that traversed the grounds, she had the eerie feeling that she’d never left. Everything looked exactly the same, tended by a team of staff that spent much more time at the estate than her family did. Memories lurked at every turn: the pool she’d learned to swim in, the fro
nt porch she’d built blanket forts on for her dolls, the palm tree she’d hauled out a ladder to climb when she was ten. Imagining it through a stranger’s eyes, Laina knew the house was undeniably gorgeous. Placed among eight lush acres in the center of the island, its clean white lines, black pitched roof and majestic columns had been built in the French colonial style. A massive pool swept outward from the front terrace, bracketed by a pool house on one side and a guest cottage on the other, each a tiny replica of the main house. And all around, in every direction, were stunning views of the Caribbean Sea.
Though the wedding was still several days away, Laina could see that the planning team was already hard at work. A series of white tents had been set up on the expansive lawn, and rows of silver chairs had been placed before a massive archway beside the pool, where the ceremony was to take place. She couldn’t help the small lift in her heart as she waved to the staff, driving her cart past a row of swaying palm trees to bypass the main house. A wedding was indeed a beautiful affair, even if Laina was quite certain she didn’t have one of her own in her future.
As she parked her golf cart in front of the guest cottage and grabbed her suitcase off the passenger seat, Laina’s thoughts turned to the evening ahead. Kiki’s wedding was a five-day celebration and tonight was the first planned event, a sunset yacht cruise for all the wedding guests—which also meant Laina’s first meeting with Kiki’s mystery cousin. Remembering the ridiculous commitment she’d made two weeks ago, she kicked herself for not having called Kiki to back out. Ever since she’d agreed to the arrangement, she’d just tried to forget about it, refusing Kiki’s offer to send her a photo of James or pass on his number so they could get acquainted beforehand. What had seemed like a good idea at the time had felt increasingly desperate and pathetic as the days passed. So what if her ex was going to be there? Laina couldn’t care less what he thought of her, and she certainly didn’t have to bring a blind date along to feel confident enough to face him. What had she been thinking?
She hadn’t been thinking—Kiki had. But Laina had agreed to it, and now she had to be nice and social and thankful to some cocky playboy for acting the part for her. As the big day approached, she’d meant to tell Kiki to call off the blind date, but she’d been so busy with work that the intention had disappeared into the mad whirl of her workday. And now, with just three hours until the cruise, Laina had to choose between being rude and spending the week in excruciating discomfort.
Option two was worse, she decided as she rolled her suitcase into the bedroom. She would cancel, and in the end James would probably thank her for freeing him to pick up as many chicks as he liked.
Laina was digging in her handbag for her cell phone when she heard it ding. She extracted it from her bag’s black depths and stared down at the text, which had come in from an unfamiliar number. A drink before the cruise? The Palms at 6 if you’re interested. Room 418.
Laina’s reticence was replaced with fury. His room number? Who the hell did he think he was—and who did he think she was? That did it—if she suspected this had been a mistake all along, this proved it.
Furiously, she typed back a message. Sorry, not in the habit of going to strange men’s rooms. Have fun at the wedding, though! She punched the send button with a jab of satisfaction. The ellipsis activated, and then: So we’re strangers now? It’s Ward. New job came with new cell phone. Thought you might want a chance to make nice, but guess I was wrong.
She threw her phone across the room, where it thankfully landed on her pillow with a quiet thump. Make nice? She felt like screaming. The fucking prick.
She needed to walk, get some air, blow her fury off. Slamming the door behind her, she left her cottage and headed across the lawn.
* * *
Her again. Jesus.
James started from the dream and opened his eyes to early-afternoon sunlight streaming into his hotel room. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but after arriving on Moretta and checking into The Palms an hour ago, he’d laid back on his bed to go over a project report and dozed off. And he’d dreamed of her again: Laina Rose—the girl he’d never even met—for the third time in two weeks. Last night he’d been standing with her in the doorway of one of his half-constructed buildings while a party went on around them. It might have unnerved him if he didn’t know better than to put any stock into the nocturnal tricks of the human mind. The reason for the dream was an obvious combination of three things that were stressing him out: his upcoming blind date, the completion of the property deal on Moretta and the dreaded wedding itself.
Weddings to James were like wet changing room floors to bare feet—to be avoided as much as possible. In fact, with all due respect to Kiki, he’d only accepted her invitation because it fulfilled another of his agendas on Moretta. James didn’t need a therapist to tell him he disliked weddings because his parents had divorced when he was two and he’d never known his father. He also realized that at age thirty-eight he should be wanting the happily-ever-after himself. He should have found a woman he wanted to commit to, maybe even started a family by now. It was what all of his friends were doing, but the mere thought of it left him cold—and he wasn’t sure he liked that. Casual encounters seemed fine until a certain age, when they suddenly started to look a little pathetic.
Like Jennifer. He was still kicking himself for that one. As determined as he’d been not to sleep with her again, he’d felt obliged to accept her offer of a cocktail. One drink had led to another and another, and before he knew it she’d been sitting on his lap in the lounge of her hotel room, and then...
James shut down the memory. It had been a mistake, but why? Jennifer had the full package—beauty, brains, drive, even money—so why wasn’t he interested? It was the same with every woman: out of sight, out of mind. And he had no idea why.
Rising from his bed, he changed into a clean T-shirt and put on his running shoes. Then he left the hotel and started down the dirt road, taking in the now-familiar sights of the island. He’d loved this place from the first time he came here to visit Kiki three years ago, and it had pulled him back many times since. Growing up, he and Kiki had lived polar opposite lives; while she was raised by her father and stepmother in a middle-class household, he was brought up in project housing by his single mom, who was the sister of Kiki’s long-lost mother. Though the cousins had little in common, they’d formed a tight bond, probably because his small family was Kiki’s only connection to her missing mom. Kiki had always made sure James was invited over for important holidays, where James remembered laughing with his mother around their dining room table. In fact, it was at that table that she had first announced to the family that she was sick.
James shook off the memory as he walked up the hillside, surveying the passing scenery through the eyes of a developer. Besides being idyllic in every way, this island—with a single hotel, one bar, a tiny grocery store, a gift shop and a post office its only nods toward commercialism—was also a world of untapped opportunity. As he climbed higher, barely breaking a sweat thanks to his regular workouts, James could feel a sense of power building with each step. Soon this place would transform for the better, and it would happen because of him.
Finally he stopped and turned to admire the view behind him. From up here he could see everything—the waves lapping against the white sand, the small town at the island’s west end, and below him, several homes built against the cliffs to take full advantage of the panorama. It was a perfection that deserved to be appreciated by more than just the superwealthy of the world, and James already had a development planned for Moretta that would facilitate just that. He’d started taking meetings with the island’s council members two years ago, and they had heartily agreed with him: it was time to expand—tastefully, of course, and at a pace that would hardly be noticed by their established residents. It was inevitable that change would eventually come to Moretta, and the council believed that he was the person to do it. James prided
himself on doing things right. He had assured them that his structures would work with the lay of the land, taking cues from both nature and the surrounding buildings to create visual masterpieces that practically blended into the scenery. There were only two things keeping James from completing the deal, but he would soon have both of them in hand.
To his right, a grassy clifftop dotted with palm trees beckoned. He left the dirt road and started walking toward it.
* * *
Laina hadn’t been sure where she was going when she started walking, but it wasn’t long before she was pulled toward Pelican Rock. The high cliff was set near the edge of her family’s property, and her parents had brought her here as a child to show her something amazing—a rare Caribbean brown pelican nest. Observing the nest of driftwood sticks on the ground from afar, she’d spent hours making notes and drawings in her sketchbook. At the time the birds were threatened, but their numbers had recovered since then due to conservation efforts, and the pelicans had continued to make their home here. In her teens, her parents had even had the council name the small area a parkland so it couldn’t be developed.
And now it had been invaded. As Laina broke through the stand of palm trees into the clearing, she stopped short and froze. A man was standing with his back to her, taking photographs of the view with his iPhone.
Laina knew the flare of annoyance she felt was unjustified—this was public property, after all—but she couldn’t help it. Locals mostly stayed away for the good of the birds, and even she rarely came here anymore.
She cleared her throat loudly. “Hello?”
“Jesus!” The man jumped and dropped his phone. It landed at his feet in a patch of scrubby vegetation and slid downward, stopping dangerously close to the edge. He pounced on it and stood up, inspecting the device for damage. Laina couldn’t help the smile that came to her lips. Serves him right.
