The Sisterhood Promise

by Susan Hatler

  “I know,” I said, relieved that he didn’t look upset with me. “But hosting an independent women’s retreat with a group of hot firefighters next door wasn’t exactly what Greta had in mind when she hired me. I had to think fast in order to save my job. Haven’t you ever had a tough situation at work?”

  “Once.” His mouth curved upward as he poured coffee into a small cup, then handed the drink to me. “But I only had my prankster side to blame. When I was a rookie, I stuffed our captain’s desk drawers full of bananas, which seemed harmless. Once they all ripened, he had a swarm of fruit flies infesting his office. Took me awhile to earn my way back into his good graces.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, that might not be the best impression to make.”

  He shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee. “I washed the trucks for months, but no big deal. Our captain was a huge softie.”

  “Was?” I repeated, a sense of dread coming over me.

  He cleared his throat. “He, uh, passed away fighting a wildfire last year.”

  “I’m so sorry.” I scooted closer to Brody, placed my hand against his back, and the way his facial muscles tightened made my heart ache for him. “Is that why you’re having this getaway together at your uncle’s house?”

  “Yeah.” He paused a moment, then glanced at me, his blue eyes storming with emotion. “His wife . . . his widow, asked me to spread his ashes out to sea. But I’m having a hard time letting go . . .” He cleared his throat, then picked up a dinner roll and took a bite. After a few seconds, he swallowed. “So what do you think Greta was talking about back there? Almost sounded like she had some secret plans going on.”

  My throat had clogged from him opening up to me, but I took his cue to move from the subject of his captain. “Maybe she has another book in the works that’s a spin-off from this retreat. Who knows? Honestly, she’s so successful, I think she must work in her sleep.”

  “Probably eats at her computer, too,” Brody said, smiling.

  “Could be.” I smiled back at him. “She does jog with her cell phone.”

  We both laughed, then he moved toward me, tucking a wisp of hair behind my ear. His gaze held mine and our connection felt like an invisible cord was pulling me toward him.

  “I should be heading back,” I said, quickly, breaking the spell.

  “Not yet . . .” His fingers trailed across my jaw, sending skitters of pin pricks along my skin. Then he pulled back, giving me the bit of distance I needed. “The sun isn’t even up.”

  Suddenly, the clouds parted, and over the top of the bluff the first rays of morning light burst across the sky. The sight took my breath away, and I instinctively reached for Brody’s hand.

  As our fingers laced, I tried not to think about my job, or worry that Greta might catch us at any moment. Instead, all I focused on was the sound of the waves crashing against the shore behind me, and being here with Brody in the most beautiful setting I could imagine.

  Chapter Ten

  Early the next morning, I gathered all the women down on the beach for a bonding activity. Despite my career goals and my intense desire to impress Greta, I was torn over my growing feelings for Brody. My attraction to him had been a no-brainer due to his “surfer” good looks. Now that I was getting to know him, I’d learned he had this vulnerable sweet side and my heart ached for that little boy who’d been deserted by his mom and the grown man who had lost his mentor.

  The sky was overcast today, with big dark clouds bunching up overhead as far as the eye could see. As a result, the bay had turned slate gray with choppy waves crashing against the beach. The ominous feel of the air made my skin prickle, and I became hesitant to bond with anyone. The other women stood huddled in small bunches, clothed in sweats and hoodies against the biting wind. Maybe they felt uneasy, too.

  Only Greta seemed cheerful this morning, with a big grin plastered on her perfectly painted face. She held her arms wide as she spoke. “Back-up buddies are essential in an independent woman’s life. Friends give us support and remind us we should shine in everything we do.”

  As Greta went on about the advantages of friendships, I shot Charlie a glance, thinking about what our friendship meant to me back in high school. She’d always been the life of the party and there was never a dull moment with her. Weekends ended up being a bit crazy, because we never knew what ideas she’d have up her sleeve. I missed her excitement for life.

  One time, Wendy, Megan, and I had spent the night at Charlie’s house, and she decided we must drive to L.A. at one in the morning, so we could be the first in line for this hot new breakfast place that was all the rage with celebrities. We arrived at the restaurant in time, but after checking the menu, we’d only been able to afford orange juice and a plate of bacon to share. We’d made that food last for two full hours, which was totally worth it since we’d spotted nine different celebrities. Only Charlie had enough courage to ask for autographs, though.

  The allure and glamour of celebrity status turned out to be Charlie’s downfall. Due to her ex’s music success, she’d had to live through a celebrity’s reality with tabloids spilling every dirty detail of her crumbling marriage, exposing her pain to the world. Guilt washed through me that I hadn’t been there for her. As Greta finished her speech, I decided to make sure Charlie and I were partners for the trust exercises.

  “Olivia,” Greta sang, enunciating all four syllables, as always. “I know these ladies can’t wait to see what you have planned for our day of friendship building.”

  “Thank you, Greta.” I nodded to Greta, then pulled out my copy of Men: Who Needs Them? that I’d reread last night in bed. “First, I’d like to read a passage from Greta’s book. ‘When women develop the deep bonds of friendship with other women, they’re able to have the emotional connections they desire without relying on a man.’”

  My mind shifted to Brody, and I wondered why Greta felt we could depend on a woman but not a man. Weren’t people individuals? So, how did trustworthiness hinge on gender? Realizing I’d paused, I glanced up at the ladies, and everyone was staring at me. Oops. I turned back to the page I’d been reading.

  “‘The bonds of women are strengthened the most when they participate together in activities that build trust. Trust is the basis of any relationship. Psychologists agree that when trust is broken in a relationship, women have a hard time moving beyond the rift, and often the relationship ends. Because other women are more likely to understand the need for trust in relationships, the friendships that arise between women can create a sisterhood of security, love and acceptance.’”

  Clearly, Greta had trust issues with someone in her life—maybe even Brody’s uncle, Scotty Mitchell—but her words made so much sense. Building trust was the basis of a strong friendship, so that was the goal of our activity: to build trust, to bond, and to create lasting friendships.

  “Today is all about trust, ladies,” I said, glancing quickly at Greta for approval. When she nodded, a feeling of confidence wafted over me. “We’re going to partner up and lead one another through three different trust exercises. There might be a part of you that wants to resist. Trusting another person who you’re just getting to know can be scary and counterintuitive, but that’s why we’re all here, right? We want to move past our insecurities, break down boundaries, and build lasting bonds. So, let’s partner up. Choose the person closest to you,” I instructed.

  I’d positioned myself beside Charlie before I made this announcement, but just as I turned toward her, Greta linked her arm through Charlie’s.

  “Looks like we’ll be paired together,” Greta sang. I had to admit that sing-song voice, which used to sound happy and confident, was starting to grate on my nerves.

  Recovering quickly, I saw that Janine didn’t have a partner, so I stepped toward her. “We need to show everyone what to do,” I said, unable to keep the tension out of my voice.

  “Anything you need,” she said, wearing a concerned look.

  Janine and I
positioned ourselves down the beach where everyone could see us. “Okay, ladies,” I said, loudly while clapping my hands together to get everyone’s attention. “For the first activity, we’re going to do a trust fall. Taking turns, one person will close their eyes, arms over her chest. And their partner will catch them as they fall backward. Watch us.”

  Quickly, I turned around, closed my eyes, and crossed my arms over my chest. Then I tried to let go of my inhibitions as I fell back, expecting Janine to catch me. Instead, my head knocked into something hard and I landed in the sand. I turned around to see that Janine had fallen back for me to catch her. I groaned. Struggling to my feet, I forced a laugh. “And that’s exactly what you should not do,” I said. “Make sure you are communicating while building trust.”

  The others chuckled along with me, and soon settled in trying the first activity. I turned to Janine, offered my hand, and helped her to her feet. She was still holding her head. “Do we have to try again?” she moaned.

  “Yes, we’re the example for everyone,” I said, feeling determined to build trust and master this event. This time, we decided I’d fall back first, and we were able to catch each other without further incident. I glanced over to see Greta catch Charlie, and I felt a flash of annoyance. “We have two more activities to get through.”

  My gaze moved over to Charlie and Greta. The two of them were talking. Charlie was talking about something with a more upbeat expression than usual, and Greta laughed at whatever she’d said. As I wondered why Greta wanted to pair with Charlie, my cell phone buzzed in my pocket.

  “One sec,” I told Janine, fishing my cell out to find a text from my dad: NEED YOUR ADVICE. WHAT SHOULD I BUY YOUR MOM FOR HER BIRTHDAY?

  I stared down at the seemingly innocuous message, written all in caps, proving my father didn’t understand text messaging very well. Feeling my chest tighten, I typed back a message, and hit SEND: Maybe you should take a break from getting her gifts since you’re separated. If anything changes, you can always give her something extra for Christmas.

  Just as I was turning back to Janine, my phone pinged again. YOU THINK WE’LL BE BACK TOGETHER BY CHRISTMAS???

  Tears of frustration blurred my eyes. Why couldn’t he accept that things weren’t going to work out? Things may have seemed perfect before, but she’d left him. Hadn’t the trust in his relationship been broken irreparably?

  With my parents’ impending divorce circling my brain, I stuck the phone back in my pocket. My voice cracked as I explained the second activity—a trust walk—where one partner is blindfolded and the other gives instructions on walking safely around the beach.

  As everyone began, I closed my eyes and listened to Janine’s instructions. “Take three steps forward,” she said. “Good, now take one step to the left. No, I mean to the right. Wait, I meant my right. Go left!”

  I surged left, tripped backward over something, and felt my feet fly high above my head. My back crashed against the cold sand, and pain ricocheted down both of my legs. I yanked off the blindfold, and glanced at Janine who had her index finger and thumb spread to make an L-shape.

  “So sorry, I’ve never been good at directions,” she said, helping me to my feet.

  “Maybe next time mention that before we start?” I suggested, hoping I didn’t have a huge bruise from the fall. Hearing laughter, I glanced over at Charlie and Greta, who seemed to have mastered the exercise perfectly. I had to admit they made a good team, but I wasn’t sure why that bothered me so much. Greta’s cell phone conversation on the beach rolled through my brain, and an odd feeling of apprehension swept over me. But I pushed that feeling out of my mind deciding I was being paranoid.

  After everyone finished the second exercise, I called us into a group, so we could do the final activity. “This is called the human knot. Grab a hand of a person across the circle. Do not cross your arms. Once we are all tangled, we will untangle ourselves. This will require us to talk to each other and listen well.”

  Once we were set, Greta took charge, dismissing me as leader. She told the ladies where they should move, and my throat tightened because she didn’t seem to trust me. Under her guidance, we got even more tangled. I thought about chiming in, but didn’t want to upset Greta or make her more disappointed in me.

  Suddenly, Erin yelped. She turned toward Charlie. “You pinched me,” she said.

  Charlie’s brows came together. “No, I didn’t.”

  “Well, I quit,” Erin snapped, yanking her hands out of the circle. “I don’t trust Charlie.”

  “Now, ladies . . . ” I said, my heart sinking. We were so blowing this trust exercise. “Let’s work through this little road bump with good communication and then we’ll all feel better.”

  “Erin should apologize to Charlie,” Greta interjected. “Accusations do not create trust and we should all remember that for future relationships.” She glanced at her watch. “Maybe it’s time we head back up to the house.”

  Everyone stepped back from the circle, looking relieved, then they trudged up the beach toward the stairs. I just stared after them with a knot sitting in the pit of my stomach. This activity had failed miserably, and Greta would probably blame me for that even though the ladies seemed to enjoy the first two exercises in which I’d been in charge.

  “I’ll get snacks ready.” Janine touched my arm, then hurried toward the stairs.

  I stood rooted in that spot, unable to move, wracking my brain to figure out how things went so wrong. Morning had only just begun and I already feared Greta might get rid of me. Seriously, could this day get any worse?

  Suddenly, I heard laughter coming from the shore. I turned toward the noise by the large rocks Brody and I had hidden behind. I recognized that deep husky laugh. Sure enough, I caught a glimpse of Brody. I raised my hand to wave, but his attention was glued to someone else: Ms. Blonde Bikini.

  She was fully clothed this time, looking perfect and dainty in jeans and a v-neck sweater. Their heads were bent together, her hand was on his forearm, and they were both laughing.

  After stumbling across the sand, I then sprinted back toward the house where all I wanted was to climb into bed and forget that bonding wasn’t for me. Just when I had reached out, I fell—figuratively and literally. I couldn’t trust Greta, or Janine, and under no circumstances could I ever trust Brody.

  Chapter Eleven

  A luxury independent women’s retreat should’ve been the perfect place to push a man from my mind. The major wrinkle? We’d invited Brody and his friends to join our event today as temptation teasers. Freaking temptation teasers. Why had I ever opened my big mouth about inviting the guys to hang with us? Talk about torture.

  To get through this day, pushing Brody out of my mind was the only possible option.

  As I put on a pair of jeans and my old cowboy boots, I told myself that horseback riding in the mountains would be the perfect way to clear my head, and it didn’t matter that Brody—and his enticing grin—would be there. I buttoned up a fitted flannel shirt to complete my outfit, then fixed my long hair in a single French braid, securing it with a rubber band at the base of my neck.

  The stretch limo pulled up outside the mansion promptly at nine in the morning to take us to the mountain ranch where we’d rented the horses. The guys would be meeting us there. I’d hoped to sit by Charlie in the limo. Greta seemed to have other ideas, though, and asked me to ride up in the front passenger seat with the driver so I could give him directions. Since the driver—and everyone else in the modern world—had GPS, I could only assume Greta was trying to get rid of me. Why, I had no clue, but to say my feelings were hurt would be an understatement. But I plastered on a wide smile and climbed in the front seat.

  The limo driver was a nice guy from San Jose, who apparently worked this second job in order to pay for his kid’s college education. We chatted as the limo climbed up into the mountains, and I eventually admitted to him my insecurities over having never finished my bachelor’s degree. At that time, I had
no idea what I wanted to do for a living and couldn’t pin down a major after my general education studies were complete at the local community college. The driver noted I seemed to be doing quite well. Little did he know my days as Blue Moon Bay’s premiere event planner were very likely numbered.

  Hello? I wasn’t even allowed to sit with the group. So demoralizing.

  The guys were already waiting when we arrived at the ranch and there was a sense of general enthusiasm from the ladies. I, on the other hand, had no idea how to make things right with Greta. Really, she was the one who’d blown that last trust exercise. Not me. Obviously I couldn’t tell my boss that had been her fault, though.

  The ranch owner, Lance, gathered everyone in a rough circle and introduced himself to the group. Then he waved his arm over his shoulder. “We’ve got your mounts right this way,” he said.

  As I plodded toward the corral, Brody fell into step beside me, putting a hand on the small of my back. “Good morning,” he said.

  “Morning,” I said, hating how much I loved the feel of his touch. I quickened my pace until his hand fell to his side.

  He had a lot of nerve thinking we could keep on going the way we had been. I’d seen him cozying up with Ms. Blonde Bikini yesterday. And, sure, she hadn’t been wearing a swimsuit the last time I saw her, but I still didn’t know her name. More importantly, I didn’t want to know her name. He gave me his sexy, lazy grin, making my belly dance. But I refused to fall for him.

  Thankfully, Brody and I were separated as the ranch hands helped us onto our horses. My horse turned out to be a large black gelding named Soot. There was a white star on his forehead, but the rest of him was dark as midnight. As I settled into the saddle, Brody rode up beside me.

  He winked at me. “Lovely lady, I’d say you were made to ride that horse.”

  “Your horse isn’t so bad either,” I said. Too bad I couldn’t say the same about its rider. I pulled the reins to the side, giving my horse a little squeeze with my heels so I could move away from Brody and find Charlie. Riding next to Charlie would serve two purposes: I could resurrect our friendship, and I could keep my distance from Brody.