by Tamara Lush
“Yeah, something like that.”
She giggles and gets up, sliding onto my lap. “And what did you say?”
“I said I thought you could handle yourself just fine.”
Natalia kisses my forehead. “Good answer, sweetie.”
“Hey, I was thinking…” I wrap her in my arms and squeeze. “Now that I’ve met your parents, how about you meet my family? My mom and stepdad are coming to the island this weekend. And my half-brother, I think. They’re renting a house on the beach. I was thinking about asking my sister if we should do a big cookout or something. You could even ask your brothers or sister-in-laws or parents to join in. Up to you.” I wasn’t entirely sure my sister would join us, given how she still feels about our Mom. Perhaps a bit of wishful thinking on my part, I guess.
“You want your parents to meet my parents?” Her eyes are huge.
“Sure. Why not?”
“You want your family to meet my crazy family this soon?”
“Your family’s not crazy. They’re eccentric. Charmingly so.”
She snuggles into my chest and I tuck her legs in so I’m holding a folded-up version of her.
“Hmm,” she hums.
“Even if you don’t bring your family, I’d love for you to meet mine.”
“Do you think they’ll like me?” she asks in a soft voice.
I kiss her temple and glance around the Hastings’ study. I have a vision of us in thirty years, with a house filled with memories and photos. “I think they’ll love you, babe.”
Chapter Nineteen
NATALIA
“Get your nose out of his butthole.” I swing open the door. “Hey, Sadie.”
She pokes her head in. “Who were you just talking to?”
I’m halfway across my living room and I look back at her. She’s still in the doorway. “What are you waiting for? Come in and close the door. Don’t let the pets out. I was talking to Chunky. He always tries to sniff Sin’s butt and then my little kitty gets fierce.”
Sadie lets out a breath and walks in, shutting the door. “I dunno. Thought you and Matthew were having a threesome or something.”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah. If only today were that fun. I’m nervous as hell.”
She flops on the sofa, next to an indignant Sin and a guilty-looking Chunky. “Hey, you two carpet lumps,” she says to the animals, scratching them with scarlet-red nails. “Ready for a hot Saturday night? Who’s a good dog? Who’s a good kitten?”
“Yeah, I’m ready, I think. I’m glad Matthew’s not hesitant about wanting me to meet his mom. Some guys are, you know? He’s all in. Mature.” I run a brush through my hair. I blew it straight because I want to wear it long and loose.
“Oh, I was talking to Chunky and Sin, but now that you mention it, are you ready?” Sadie’s green eyes scan my body. It’s the first time she’s actually looked at me since she walked in. “What are you wearing?”
I glance down at my dress. It’s a pink, blue, and green, floral print sundress. Lauren loaned it to me. “Why? Does it look awful?”
Sadie screws up her face. “It looks like a rainbow barfed on you.”
Normally I applaud Sadie’s honesty, but does she have to be this blunt today? Of all days? I put my hands on my hips. “I thought it would be better to wear this than to roll up in my usual black tank top-black shorts combo. Or worse, wear my one black work outfit.”
“Did Matthew tell you what to wear? Does he dictate what you wear?” Sadie narrows her eyes.
“No! Not at all. He says he thinks it’s cool that I wear pretty much the same thing every day to work.” I shrug. “And, anyway, I saw a pair of Crocs at his house, so it’s not like his fashion sense is incredible, either.”
“Hmm,” Sadie grumbles.
“I just wanted to look normal for his mom, okay?” I cry.
“You always look normal for you. I hate to see you change for a man.”
“I’m not changing. I’m just wearing something a little more appropriate for a poolside dinner. My usual go-to leisure outfit of tropical goth might not make the best first impression.”
“Fair enough.” Sadie chews on her nail.
I lean toward a mirror hanging on a wall near the door and glance at Sadie’s reflection. “What’s wrong with you? You seem nervous.”
“I’m just worried about the business.”
“Why? You said your bookings were up.” I swipe on some lip gloss. Eww, it’s bright pink. No. Too flashy. I walk into the kitchen and grab a paper towel, scrubbing my lips.
“They are. But I’m hearing rumors that someone’s buying the marina.”
“So? The marina’s changed hands before.” I try a different color, more of an opaque nude. My skin tone favors pale colors. I root around in my makeup bag. Why the hell did I let Lauren talk me into buying those wild colors?
“The guy buying the marina is the mayor.”
I whirl around, my flouncy skirt skittering around my legs. “What? Justin? Your Justin?”
“Yeah,” she says in a flat voice. “Him. Asshole Justin.”
“Rather harsh, considering you had a crush on him for a solid six months.”
“Well, now I dislike him. Deeply. Because there are other rumors that he wants to do away with all businesses and liveaboard boats there. That means me.”
“Whoa.” That would also affect Remy since he lives on his sailboat at that marina. Well, when he’s not staying with Leilani. “That’s a problem.”
I mash my lips together. Yeah, the near-clear gloss looks better. More “thirty-two-year-old professional-with-her-shit-together” rather than “unstable woman whom your son is fucking.”
“I’m meeting with some other marina tenants tomorrow,” Sadie says darkly. “I was planning on doing more research tonight.”
I toss the gloss into my bag. “Thanks again for doing this, especially when you’re dealing with all the marina crap. I hope you track down some good info. I wasn’t going to ask you, but my brother’s out of town and I couldn’t get out of Chunky duty. Just check on them every so often. Or stay, if you want. You know the wi-fi password.”
“Pfft. No worries. I’ll just be here, plotting the overthrow of the marina and eating your food. You still have those frozen pizza bagel things?”
“Sure do. Help yourself. Okay, bye kids.”
Sin looks at me, bored. Chunky’s not paying attention because he’s sniffing Sin’s tail. Sadie’s moved to the kitchen, her bright red head in the freezer.
“Have fun, don’t drink too much, and don’t say inappropriate things to his mother,” she calls out, her voice muffled.
“I might do those very things,” I respond with a laugh, then grab my keys, purse, and a bag with two $30 bottles of wine that I’d bought for the party.
Of course, I won’t. Making a good impression on Matthew’s mom is the only thing I want out of tonight. Even if she is, as he put it, difficult. I’m excellent with difficult people, and can win almost anyone over with my charm.
The uncomfortable fizzing in my stomach grows the closer I get to the address Matthew gave me. The house is on a part of the island I rarely visit, mostly because it’s filled with giant, new, waterfront mansions. They’re all rentals or owned by people who visit the island for a week once or twice a year. Most look like sprawling replicas of Tony Montana’s house in Scarface, in my opinion. Gaudy, ostentatious, tacky.
Even Matthew was a bit apologetic when he explained where his mom had rented. “She likes things flashy,” he said in a quiet voice. “I’m not like that.”
His place is a middle-of-the road ranch house with a porch and a backyard. Sure, it was probably on the expensive side since it’s in that fly-in community, but it’s nothing luxurious. Matthew’s joked that the garage-hangar is probably worth more than the house, and he likes it that way, given his love of engines and his plane.
When I found out the exact location of the mansion his mom had rented — a place that’s the architectura
l equivalent of Paris Hilton — I decided not to invite my parents to the party. Oh, Ma would have been fine. She’s like me. Ginger Hastings can talk with anyone, about anything. Even though she’s eccentric with her tarot cards and moon bathing, she’s adorable enough that it would take a Mussolini-like monster not to love her.
My father, on the other hand… I grin as I turn onto the mansion’s street. Dad would be the proverbial turd in the punchbowl, eyeballing the bougie decorations and rubbing his big, callused hand over his black, punk rock tattoos while downing a beer from a bottle.
Although we grew up well-off, we weren’t the richest people on the island. And Ma and Dad made sure we didn’t abuse our privilege. Dad would always remind us not to. “We’re not going to be snobs, we’re not going to throw our money around like assholes, and we’re not going to abuse our privilege,” he’d growl. “We’re going to use what we have to help others that are less fortunate.”
As I drive, I think about Dad and Matthew the other night and I smile. They seemed pretty chummy, actually, and I suspect Dad admires Matthew for being a pilot and knowing how to fix engines.
It was a relief to see them getting along. Dad’s been lukewarm about most of the men in my life. Well, except for Chad. He actively hated him from the start, and toward the end, I was worried Dad would be arrested on felony charges if he ever ended up alone in a dark alley with him.
But that’s all in the past. I’ve had no Chad nightmares in recent weeks, my parents got along with Matthew, and his daughter doesn’t seem to completely hate me. To further cement my position as her dad’s coolest friend, I found some BTS stickers online and ordered them. I can’t wait to see her face when I give the K-pop swag to her today.
I turn into the driveway. The gate’s open and I pull in. Ugh. The mansion, which looks like a cross between a Spanish mission and a German lodge, is more sprawling and tackier than I imagined. Why would a small family need a place this big for the weekend? Gah.
I pull in next to Matthew’s truck and note that there are a few other cars in the driveway, all luxury vehicles. My stomach is now twisted into a tight knot. What if his mom and stepdad are super uptight? Will I be able to control myself for a couple of hours? I can be friendly and charming like Ma for only so long. Two hours is about my limit, and then it’s like my tongue gets an invisible dose of truth serum.
As I’m climbing out of the car, the front door swings open.
“Hey, babe.” Matthew’s grin relaxes me almost instantly.
He walks toward me and my muscles soften. “Hey you.”
He’s wearing cream-colored, linen shorts and a pale blue T-shirt. No shoes. “So preppy and handsome,” I say, leaning to kiss his cheek. Mmm. He smells like his usual soap.
When his hand cups my jaw and his nose nuzzles my face, I sigh pleasurably.
“You look gorgeous, Natalia.”
“Thanks,” I whisper.
It’s all going to be okay. He’s here and we’re going to have fun. He wants to introduce me to his mom, and that’s one more step toward a more serious relationship. That’s all.
“C’mon in,” he says, taking my hand. “Chloe’s by the pool with my mom, trying to explain the wonders of K-pop to her.”
“As a matter of fact, I have something along those lines that I think she’ll like. A gift.”
Matthew laughs, his eyes twinkling. “You’re going to spoil her more than I do.”
We’re at the open door now. It’s a giant, faux European wood slab with iron detail. “I found some stickers for her. What girl doesn’t like stickers?”
He puts his hand on the small of my back and guides me into the house, the big door shutting behind us. “Yeah, so this is the home they’re renting.” His voice trails off and he looks at me, one eyebrow quirked. We grin as if we’re both in on a secret joke. Oh yeah, we’ve got this.
“You can’t buy taste,” he murmurs in my ear.
I giggle. “Such an unusual choice for a beach home,” I murmur back, craning my neck to take in the heavy, exposed, wood beams on the high ceiling. A shame it’s so dark inside when the place is right on the beach.
I let go of Matthew’s hand so I can spin a little, taking in all the gaudy décor. Is that a gargoyle? A three-foot-high beer stein? Ick. “Looks a little like a German beer hall.”
“I think that vibe is intentional,” he says, laughing. “Oh, hey. There’s my brother. Dude, I’d like you to meet Natalia.”
My gaze lowers from the ceiling. I suck in a breath while my heart, stomach, and every other organ plunges and settles at my feet.
Chad.
He’s standing there, grinning lazily. Chad.
The guy who bullied me in high school. Who bet his buddies that he could take my virginity. (He won.) Who, the last time I saw him, was blind drunk.
That was the night he put both his hands around my neck and squeezed, all because I’d exchanged a few polite sentences with another guy at a party.
“Natalia Hastings? Is that you?” he says. His voice drips with a bored and arrogant cadence, like he’s only mildly interested in the answer. I hate that his voice is instantly familiar, like I’ve never fully erased it from my memory.
I don’t move. I’m frozen to the tile floor, hoping a giant sinkhole will open and swallow me whole. It’s impossible for me to form words because the memory of the last time that Chad and I were in the same room is replaying in my brain on a sickening loop.
His words and actions that night were what finally made me break it off for good.
Well, with the help of my family and a restraining order.
“You little bitch. Are you trying to make me jealous by talking to that guy? Do you want to fuck him? He’s just a stupid prick from Miami. Is that what you want? A new dick? Am I not good enough for you?”
I was saved only because he’d forgotten to lock the bathroom door and a group of girls walked in. They saw what was happening and swarmed him, screaming and pulling me away and punching him, long enough for me to run out, gasping.
I realize I’m doing the same thing now, gulping in breaths in the middle of this giant living room in a tacky mansion, fifteen years later.
“Natalia?” Matthew inquires softly.
He reaches for my arm and I instinctively shrink away.
Chapter Twenty
NATALIA
I blink at Chad and slowly shift toward Matthew, whose face is slack with confusion.
“You’re related.” My voice comes out in a whisper. It’s not a question, but a statement.
“You two know each other?” Matthew asks, his voice laced with incredulity. Yeah, dude. I’m probably more shocked than you, I want to say. But I don’t, because my speech capabilities are still stunted by the presence of a smirking Chad.
Have I mentioned that I loathe men who smirk?
My hand lets go of the twine handles holding the paper bag and it falls six inches to the floor, the glass clunking against the tile. I wait for the sound of glass breaking, for the feel of expensive Cabernet seeping around my feet, but neither comes.
Chad’s inching closer with that shit-eating grin of his. I take a step back and clutch my purse.
He looks the same except for the little lines around the corners of his eyes. Somehow, that detail makes him seem more menacing.
“Of course, we know each other, Matt. Remember that year I was in school here? Well, the two years, once in middle school, then again in high school?” He laughs, a sound that turns my insides to ice. “I had two stints with the public education system here. You remember, don’t you, Natalia? We were so close.” He smirks and I want to vomit.
“Yes. I remember all too well.”
I refuse to say his name aloud. Refuse to look into his clear, cold, blue eyes. I stare at Matthew’s bare feet. This can’t be happening. Will he understand if I just turn and walk out? Would he forgive me? Because, so help me God, I can’t be under the same roof as Chad. Not when his mere presence brings waves of
shame and fear that I’ve had to relive in the many nightmares I’ve had over the years.
“Natalia!”
Chloe’s girlish voice cuts through the thick tension in the air.
She skips up to me, looking coltish in her blue shorts and a T-shirt with anime characters on the front. “Hey there. I just downloaded a bunch of BTS videos.”
“Hey,” I say weakly, trying to will my limbs to stop shaking. I reach for her, my hand trembling. Dammit, now Chad and Matthew will see how upset I am.
“Wanna watch them with me?” She looks at me hopefully, and that’s when I realize that maybe she does like me, a little. That she’s looking at me like I’m the cool, older girl.
“I’d love to sweetie, but—”
“Hey, squirt. Why watch videos of some girly-looking Korean boys all day when you’ve got the beach to play on? You’ve gotta practice being a babe now that you live on the island. Natalia used to be quite the beach babe. I think she had like two dozen bikinis. Did you know that, Matthew?” Chad’s voice sends a fresh wave of emotion into my chest, but it’s not shame or fear or shock.
It’s anger.
There is no way I’m going to let him bully Chloe, even subtly. No way I’m going to let his racist, sexist, arrogant self get anywhere near that vulnerable, sweet girl.
A dormant momma bear instinct roars to life. Where did that come from?
“I would love to watch the BTS videos with you, Chloe.” I say in a clear voice, shooting a glare at Chad. “But I’m going to use the bathroom first. And I’d like to have a word with your father in private. Matthew, can you show me to the powder room, please?”
“Absolutely,” he says, putting his fingertips on my back and ushering us down a hall. “Chloe, we’ll be right back, okay?”
“Sure, Dad.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see her flop into a giant, wooden chair. Chad slithers out of the room.
