Jessica Morgan was quite beautiful. Somewhere in her sixties, Lia guessed she was the kind of woman who had turned heads when she was younger. Probably much too beautiful to have had many female friends or confidantes. It made the story Kevin told her, about how he came to be born, make much more sense. Lia could easily imagine a man getting closer to her and telling himself the lie, that all he wanted to offer her was friendship. Jessica Morgan looked like exactly the kind of woman who, if she was not vigilant, could have once tripped into that kind of affair.
This afternoon, Jessica Morgan was wearing a white peasant-style dress and brown sandals. It looked like the kind of dress Nicki might have worn, but even with thirty plus years over her daughter, she still pulled the outfit off effortlessly. When she took a seat at their table, Edward Morgan turned briefly away from his conversation with his brother and offered Lia a passing smile. Since their initial meeting back at Cocoplum, he seemed to have exhausted most of his interest in her. Not in a bad way, Lia believed, but in a ‘I-suppose-you’ll-do’ kind of way. He had been curious about her as the woman his son was dating, and once he decided she had no serious or concerning impediments, or apparent character flaws, had moved on.
And besides, Lia and Blake had played their roles so well—teasing and playing with each other, laughing at their own personal jokes, and being occasionally physically affectionate. Edward Morgan had probably decided that though Lia was unlikely to last, she was … adequate.
“How are you enjoying yourself, my dear?” Jessica Morgan asked as she sat.
“Very much, thank you.” Lia sat upright with her spine erect, and shoulders back. Something about Jessica Morgan made her feel like she was in a finishing school and would be judged by her decorum.
“You and Nicolette seem to be great friends.”
“I like Nicki a lot,” Lia confirmed. She stabbed at the smallest of the sweet, fried plantains on her plate.
“She’s always tried to make friends with the girls her brothers brought around,” Jessica Morgan said shaking her head. “None of them ever seemed too interested in that. I guess they were too wrapped up in Kevin or Blake to care about poor little Nicki.”
Poor little Nicki.
The phrase sounded like one that had been oft-repeated. And if so, it probably explained that undercurrent of meekness Nicki had, the inexplicable lack of confidence when her beauty and poise should have made her hyper-confident, and maybe even arrogant.
“And you seem to be quite close to my sons as well,” Mrs. Morgan continued, as Lia chewed slowly on her mouthful. “Both of them.”
Lia swallowed.
Had she noticed something? The way Lia couldn’t help looking at Kevin, for instance? Did she know?
“I like Blake a lot, of course,” Lia said carefully. “And Kevin is … great, as well.”
“Hmm.” Jessica Morgan took a sip from her water glass. “Has Blake told you about Christina?”
Lia shook her head. “He’s mentioned the name. But, I can’t say I know about her. No.”
“Horrible young woman,” Jessica Morgan said, taking Lia off guard.
“Horrible how?”
“I shouldn’t bring her up if Blake hasn’t told you himself. Because it doesn’t put him in the best light, but I think if I do tell you, you’ll understand why.”
Lia waited.
“Why don’t I let you finish with your lunch, and then we’ll take a walk you and I?”
“Of course,” Lia said.
After that, she could scarcely taste a thing on her plate. The food’s deliciousness was almost lost on her, because she was eager to hear about this mysterious Christina. Everyone in this family seemed to have a secret. Everyone, except the inscrutable Edward Morgan. She had, in the course of the last few days, heard everyone’s dirt, except for Kevin’s. And now that the chance to hear his story had presented itself, there was no way she was about to pass it up.
Once she was through with her meal, Lia sat through the aimless after-dinner coffee conversation between the tables. Everyone commented on the food, the lovely weather they’d been having since that storm-front passed, and the activities lined up for the next day. No one mentioned Blake’s absence, which Lia found strange since she doubted he had let his parents know in advance that he would be gone. Even though he was a grown man, it was still odd that he would slip away without a word during a family vacation, and neither his mother nor father would ask her, his nominal girlfriend, where he might be.
But then again, denial seemed to be the Morgan pastime.
Glancing over at Edward Morgan, who after his meal bore an expression of complacent satisfaction, Lia felt almost sorry for him. As Kevin, Blake and Nicki described him, he was a man who liked to exercise a firm hand over his family’s affairs. But in a matter of days, Lia had learned just how illusory that control was. No one and nothing were likely what he believed them to be.
“Are you ready, my dear?” Mrs. Morgan asked. “How about we take that walk? Just over to the old dock and back maybe?”
“Sure. That should be fine.”
The old dock had become a place laden with meaning for Lia. She and Kevin had spent the night together near there. And they planned to meet there again tonight, and hopefully every night for the remainder of their time on the island.
When they stood, Jessica Morgan made their excuses, and they left for their walk, leaving a sea of curious faces behind them. At first the older woman said nothing, and they strolled side by side in the sand, a few feet from the water.
~17~
Kingfisher Key, FL, Thursday 8:27 p.m.
Blake was back, and in a great mood.
By Kevin’s count, he was on his fourth rum-punch. His voice was getting louder, and he was even getting along with Kim and Tanya. Occasionally, he smiled at Lia or winked at her, and put an arm across her shoulders and pulled her closer. If he didn’t know better, Kevin would almost be jealous. Whatever had happened on the mainland, it seemed to have helped Blake turn a corner so that now he was really, truly enjoying his time with the family.
Maybe he’d decided to come out to the old man after all, and the prospect of that burden being lifted had improved his outlook. But there was no point guessing. When he had a moment, Kevin planned to pull his brother aside and ask him what was up. But the mystery of Blake’s newfound happiness wasn’t the only one he had to solve.
There was also Lia to deal with. After lunch, she had gone for a long walk on the beach with his mother, and Kevin waited for them both to return, planning to read Lia’s face for some hint of what had been talked about. But only his mother had returned, saying that Lia wanted to lie down for a little, that she had complained of too much sun. And then after that, everyone was lazing around on the beach, making it difficult for Kevin to slip away, especially since Blake was already MIA.
He didn’t see Lia again until just an hour earlier, at the start of the dinner hour. She emerged from her cabana with Nicki, both dressed in white, because that was the night’s theme—White Party. Kim and Tanya were responsible for the themes, and they rarely had anything imaginative planned. The last night on the island was always a formal, complete with shimmery dresses for the women, suits for the men and five-star food. Tonight though, it was casual, so Lia’s outfit was a simple sleeveless romper, with high raffia wedge heels. And apparently, both she and Nicki had spent some time on hair, because Lia’s was straightened and styled into a cute pixie, that emphasized her bow-lips and pert, cute nose; and Nicki had smoothed hers into fat, lustrous curls.
As she entered the dining room, Lia didn’t meet Kevin’s gaze, and she didn’t smile. She said a quiet ‘good evening’ to everyone before sitting, and then submitted to a kiss on the cheek from Blake who had come breezing in straight from the dock, late as usual, but dressed in white like everyone else. Dinner was mahi-mahi with avocado-chile sauce, asparagus, and couscous. It was hands-down one of the best meals they’d had since they arrived on the island, and so e
veryone was complimenting the chef and talking about how good it was, but Lia didn’t join in. She just sat there, next to Blake, eating and responding when spoken to, but not saying much otherwise.
Kevin could see something being worked out behind those expressive eyes of hers, and it drove him nuts that he didn’t know what. Of course, he could end the suspense and just ask his mother what they’d talked about, but how would that look? As it was, he had probably shown too much interest in Lia than was advisable.
Finally, when she stood to head over to the bar for a drink, Kevin saw his chance and went in that direction as well. The bartender, who was a young man probably just barely past twenty, looked a little overwhelmed to have them both standing in front of him at the same time. During their meals, it was unusual for anyone to fetch their own drinks; they generally just asked one of their two servers to get sit for them.
“You good?” Kevin asked, when he was standing next to Lia.
She nodded, and didn’t seem surprised that he had come over to speak to her. Maybe, he realized, she had gone to the bar just so he could come over and speak to her.
“You look like you’ve got a lot on your mind.”
She faced him, her eyes earnest but otherwise unreadable. “Are we still … tonight, are we still on?”
“Yeah. Same time, same place.”
“Okay. So, let’s talk then.” She took her drink from the young bartender and headed back to her place at the table next to Blake.
In a rush, it came to him, and he knew precisely what his mother and Lia had spoken about.
Kevin met Christina Duarte in the year between college and graduate school.
She was interning with a magazine that had hired Nicki as the model for a new line of swimsuits, and hung around for the three-day shoot. As far as Kevin could see, her job consisted of bringing water and cool drinks to the crew, fetching new garments when called for, and other menial tasks. Apart from her beauty, Kevin noticed the focused intensity she applied to each task she was given, as though getting drinks for a rude and truculent photography director was the most important thing she might ever be asked to do in her life.
Underneath the intensity though, Kevin detected impatience, and even judgment; a hint that Christina didn’t actually think her intern tasks were important, but that she knew that it was essential that others believe she thought so. From watching her, Kevin sensed her ambition. For him, it was a time when he hadn’t yet decided on his own ambitions, so that trait in Christina drew him like a moth to a flame.
When the shoot was over, he asked her out for drinks in a casual, noncommittal kind of way. And she accepted in the same spirit. They went to a small beachside joint where the patrons were a mix of colorfully-dressed and clearly wealthy South American expats and American twentysomethings in shorts and tank tops.
In vaguely accented English, Christina explained, without excuse that much of her family had come over on the Mariel Boatlift in 1980 when Fidel Castro had sent hundreds of Cuba’s “undesirables” to the United States, emptying slums, jails, insane asylums, and depositing them on the shores of Miami along with other Cuban immigrants seeking a better life. Most Cubans, in Kevin’s experience, never admitted that their family were Marielitos. Most preferred to be associated with the moneyed class who had come much earlier when the Batista government had been overthrown and Castro seized power. Batista Cubans had often left behind land, money, and privilege. But Christina had no such pretensions. Flipping her dark-auburn curls over her shoulder, and shrugging, she freely admitted that her grandfather had “probably been a gangster” when he was in Cuba (which she pronounced “Coo-ba”).
Within a week, they were sleeping together, and within a month, they were exclusive, so Kevin invited her to the family home at Cocoplum. The visit had been uneventful—Christina was polite, and had been well-received by everyone. But when Kevin drove her home that evening, back to her family’s unassuming bungalow in Plantation, almost an hour away, Christina was quiet.
‘You didn’t tell me,’ she said, when they were parked outside her house. ‘That your family is wealthy. That you are who you are.’
‘I’m exactly who I’ve always been,’ Kevin assured her.
‘No,’ she said. ‘You are not.’
That should have been a signal of what was to come, but Kevin was naïve back then. In retrospect, that was when Christina had become more possessive, more solicitous, and less brash. Over the course of the next few months, she gradually changed, and was less casual about their relationship. A friend of hers who Kevin had always been friendly with, she suddenly stopped inviting out with them. And when he asked why, Christina said, ‘She throws herself at you. And you like it.’ He laughed it off, and thought nothing more of it, because what did he care if Christina never invited her girlfriends to come out to clubs with them?
At the end of the year, Blake came home. He was in his final year of law school and bursting with the kind of arrogance only soon-to-be-attorneys display. Everyone in the family, including Kevin, made much of him, excited that he would soon be clerking for a U.S. Circuit Court judge, and then the plan was for him to move on to work on Capitol Hill. Even then, his future was mapped out. Kevin, who had recently decided to go back to school himself, was impressed by his brother, and showed him off to his girlfriend, and even made plans for them all to hang out together as often as they could while Blake was home.
When he got his acceptance for grad school, Kevin proposed to Christina, thinking only about making sure he had things between them settled before he had to go away. In hindsight, he hadn’t thought through the ‘forever’ aspect of a marriage, only that Christina was beautiful, ingratiated herself to his family, and wanted only to please him. When he told Blake the news, the reaction was far from what Kevin expected.
‘Don’t do it, man,’ he said flatly. ‘You just met her.’
‘I know. But I think this is right,’ Kevin said. He, too, wanted a life that was mapped out. A clear and certain path to pursue. And then, in an attempt to lighten the mood, he added: ‘And besides, have you looked at her?’
‘I have,’ Blake said, his face serious. ‘Have you?’
This time, Lia was waiting for him. She looked to have been there a while. She was wearing the same romper she had on at dinner, and was sitting at the end of the dock, feet hanging over the edge. She looked over her shoulder when she heard his approach, but did not smile. Instead, she pulled herself up so that she was standing by the time Kevin got to her.
“Hey,” he said, putting a hand at her waist. He planned to pull her against him, but felt a slight tension in her. “What’s up?”
Lia glanced away and took a breath. “You know I went for that walk with your mom …”
“Yeah.” He let her go and ran a hand over his head. “And I think I know what she told you.”
Looking up at him again, Lia nodded. “What do you think she told me?”
“About Christina. Look, I would have told you, but …”
“That’s the thing,” Lia said turning away from him. “There was no reason for you to tell me. It’s not my business, and you definitely don’t owe me any explanations about your romantic history.”
“Okay.” Kevin let the word drag a little. “So, if that’s the case, what’s with this … mood you’re in?”
“It made me think about what we’re doing, that’s all.”
“Lia, it’s not like you and Blake are really …”
“Not that. I mean, what we’re doing by pretending I’m with Blake. There’s something a little … cruel about it.”
“Cruel?”
“Your mother was traumatized by what happened with you and Christina, and Blake. She was afraid the rift between you and your brother would never heal after Blake … after what happened. And of course, she doesn’t know I know her story, but I think it reminds her of what happened with your father, and your … and Mr. Morgan.
“So for her to detect what she thinks is s
ome kind of connection between you and Blake’s so-called girlfriend … me. For her it’s like reliving her own story, and reliving what happened with Christina, all over again.”
Kevin ran a hand over his head. “What she thinks is some kind of connection?” he repeated wryly. “You don’t think we have a connection, Lia?”
She turned to face him again, and nodded. “We’ve known each other five days. And I don’t know, maybe it’s these weird circumstances, with all of us trapped on this island together, and maybe you do in some strange way want to retaliate for what Blake …”
“You’re not making any sense.” Kevin shook his head. “How is it retaliating against Blake? When you and I both know he’s really not that into girls. If you and he had a real relationship …”
“But we do. A friendship. He’s become a friend, Kevin. Even in this short period of time, I feel that it’s real and genuine friendship between me and Blake.”
“And what’s real and genuine about you and me?”
“Attraction. Lust.”
He laughed harshly. “And that’s all, huh?”
“No. I … I don’t know. Maybe it’s more. But how can we know, until we’re out of this crazy situation where we see each other every minute of every day, and no one gets a second to even think.”
“This is pretty illuminating,” Kevin said, taking a step back from her. “So, we’re doing this, you and me, because there’s literally no one else available. Is that your point?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Then say what you mean to say.”
“I mean, you don’t know me. I don’t know you. It only feels like we do, because we’re here on this island. And while it’s fun to sneak off together and fool around, we’re ignoring the very real damage we could do. And I don’t want to do any damage.”
Paid Companion Page 14
