by Natasha Boyd
“Keri Ann asked me not to come to her event tomorrow night. She’s worried about me overshadowing her. But I really want to be there to support her. I’m thinking of going anyway. But I need to know if she’ll be okay with it. I won’t go if you think it’ll make her push me further away.”
“Oh boy.” I blow a sharp puff of air through my closed lips.
“I know. This is a tough spot. But, I love her. I want her to succeed. I—” Hearing Jack Eversea so vulnerable—just a guy with girl problems—calms my nerves.
“I get it,” I tell him. “I told her the same thing when we were dress shopping earlier. If I could use any influence to help her, I would. We all would. So I totally understand where you’re coming from, and I told her so. I’ll support you and put in a good word when you show up. But seriously? If you waltz in there and flash your millions and buy all her art, I’ll skewer you with my stiletto. I bought a very high, very strappy pair to go with my dress, and I wouldn’t think twice.”
Jack laughs into the phone. “Can I buy at least one of them?”
“Ugh. Fine. One.”
“Are you sure she’ll be okay with me showing up?”
“She loves you too, Jack. She’s hurting. Trust me, whatever she says, she wants you there.”
He lets out a long audible breath. “Also, I haven’t managed to put a lid on that reporter, so I need to ask you an even bigger favor.”
I purse my lips. “Listening.”
“Can you pack Keri Ann a go bag? Like if we need to leave town fast? I don’t know when the story is going to drop, and I promised her and Joey I’d do my best to keep her away from the paparazzi. I have a feeling it may happen tomorrow night, during her event. It would be just the kind of asshole thing Tom Price, the reporter, would do.”
“So, wait. You want me to pack Keri Ann a bag and not tell her?”
There’s a pause. “Yeah.”
“You know, Jack, you’re asking a lot.”
“I know, I—”
“I’ll do it. But listen. I have a pretty vivid imagination, and if you ever fuck with her, I’ll make up a juicy story and sell it to the tabloids myself.”
“Noted.”
“Okay. See you tomorrow and sweep my girl off her feet, okay? She deserves it.” I hit the end button.
Even if I didn’t want to, I’d keep my date with Joey so I could have a few minutes alone with him and let him know what was going on.
“YOUR HAIR LOOKS amazing,” Keri Ann coos.
I laugh. “You’ve said that, like, a million times. Does it usually look awful?”
“No, idiot. It’s just they made it so silky and wavy, you just look so ‘worth it.’”
“Ha.” My hair actually does look spectacular. I feel a little bit like a princess. In the best way.
“You look amazing too,” I tell her. Keri Ann is wearing an original vintage beaded dress from the twenties and her hair and makeup are professionally done to compliment the look. She’s stunning.
We’d arrived back from Savannah and immediately gone to see Mrs. Weaton. It was absolute luck that she still had the vintage gown that had belonged to her mother. It was a true work of art. And absolutely the perfect style to fit my best friend’s unique personality.
I smooth my hands down my red dress.
“You’re nervous too,” Keri Ann says to me. “I thought I was the only one.”
“It’s Joey. He’s making me nervous. I’m going to go down before you and have a chat with him. Have you thought more about your decision to ask Jack not to show up?” I deflect back to her.
She sighs. “I can’t stop thinking about it. But it’s a bit late now. What’s done is done. I just want to get through tonight and then I’ll concentrate on working out our relationship.”
I want to tell her I know exactly how she feels. Instead, I smile and air-kiss her so I don’t mess up her makeup and tell her I’ll see her downstairs in fifteen minutes. I’ve already packed a few things of hers in one of my bags I’m putting on the porch for Jack to pick up on his way to the event later.
Walking into the kitchen, I’m treated to the back view of Joey in a well-fitting black tux.
He turns as I enter, a bottle of sparkling wine in his hands, the foil half off. His eyes, that are looking particularly vivid tonight, rake down my body from my head to my toes, ending with him letting out a long exhale.
I kind of feel like doing the same. I want to loosen that bow tie and mess up his perfect hair.
“Wow,” he says after another few seconds pass.
“Wow, to you too,” I return.
He clears his throat. “You look amazing.”
“Thank you. Is that Prosecco? I’m parched.”
He smiles. “Yes.”
“So I need to tell you something quickly, while we are alone.” I close the gap between us, inhaling his woodsy cologne surreptitiously as I get close.
He leans into me. It’s hard to think clearly when he’s looking and smelling so delicious.
“Shoot,” he says.
“Jack Eversea called me. He wasn’t able to kill that story. It will probably break tonight.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah.”
“What are we supposed to do?”
“I packed a bag for her, they’re probably going to have to skip town for a few weeks while it calms down. I think it’s the best idea. And I need you on board.”
Joey pinches the bridge of his nose. “Yeah. Okay. It’s probably the best thing. Still can’t believe my little sister is running around with a celebrity.”
“Trust me, I know how you feel. Never would have seen it coming in a million years.”
“We’re not telling her about the story yet, right?”
“No. God. She’ll flip out. She’s nervous enough. But she needs to know. I’ll tell her as soon as the party is over.” Or Jack will.
Joey sets the bottle down and folds his arms across his chest. “So does she know about you yet?”
“Know what?”
“That you’re leaving.”
I let out a breath, hating how much I was hiding from Keri Ann at this moment. “No. Not yet.”
“Are you really going?”
“Yes, Joseph. I’m really going.”
“How soon?”
“Honestly? Not soon enough.”
He uncrosses his arms. “When? Give me a date.”
“None of your business.”
“Okay.” He blows out a puff of air. “How long for?”
“Why do you want to know?” I roll my eyes.
“I—I just do.”
“It shouldn’t make a difference to you if I’m leaving next week or next month. Or if I stay six weeks or six years. Up until three days ago you weren’t even here. You haven’t been interested in anything I’ve done for the last three years.”
“So it’s temporary?”
“What makes you say that?”
“You just did. You put a maximum time on it of six years.”
I huff out a breath. “Whatever.”
“So how long?”
“I haven’t decided yet. And I can promise you one thing. It will have nothing to do with you.”
I hear Keri Ann on the stairs and step away from Joey.
But he reaches out and takes my wrist. “You’re right. It shouldn’t have anything to do with me,” he says in a low voice. “But don’t think it won’t affect me.”
Pasting on a smile, I free my wrist and turn to see Keri Ann walk in, looking breathtaking.
THE ART AUCTION event, held at a hotel on Hilton Head Island, where Keri Ann’s work is being exhibited, is amazingly successful. It was an honor for her to get picked to be part of a representation of up and coming Southern artists. There are tons of super art buffs among the attendees, and they all love her recycled style and use of natural materials and sea glass.
She gets some great press, and of course Jack Eversea shows up and shows everyone in no uncertain terms th
at Keri Ann is the center of his universe.
It is epically romantic. An electromagnetic love pulse. You can almost feel the hearts of millions of women breaking in an outward ripple across the globe. The romance in the air is palpable. If I’m not careful, I’ll read far too much into the way I’ve caught Joseph watching me all evening from where he’s hanging out with Colt and Colt’s date not too far away.
Jack and Keri Ann disappear off to talk with a local reporter, and rather than look like a spare part I head for the fresh local shrimp display.
Joseph joins me as I walk. “Eversea said the story broke. He’s going to take Keri Ann away tonight. Apparently he has a plane on standby at the private airfield here.”
I smirk. “Of course he does.”
Joey shakes his head. “I hope she knows what she’s doing.”
Irritation surges. “It’s not like you plan who you fall in love with,” I snap. Luckily we’ve reached the shrimp and a waiter walks past with a tray of champagne. “Thank goodness,” I say, stopping the waiter and snagging a glass.
Joey takes one too, less hurriedly than I had mine. “Thank you,” he says to the server, then looks at me over the rim of the glass, his blue eyes burning. “To the utter foolishness and bad timing of love” he says. Then he raises the glass and brings it to his lips.
“I assume you’re talking about your sister and Jack Eversea. I’m not drinking to that.”
Joseph shrugs, and I watch him take the sip, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. I’m staring at his throat. I wonder if his skin tastes salty. “How about to forgiving someone for their mistakes? Will you drink to that?”
Shaking my head, I raise my glass. “While I am happy for Keri Ann, I’d personally like to raise my glass to one’s head ruling one’s heart. Something I’m sure would be your normal toast.” I take a sip.
“I’m not going to beg you to stay.”
My heart lurches into my throat, causing me to almost choke on the bubbly liquid. “Why on earth would you?”
“I should. I want to. Because I never should have let you go to begin with.”
I stare at him.
A muscle ticks in his jaw. He’s totally serious.
Too little, too late I want to shout at him. “But you did.” I shrug, trying to make my voice casual.
“Well, I don’t want to make your choice difficult by asking you to stay.”
“I’ve made my choice already. And can you even hear your arrogance? Why would you think asking me to stay would spell a tough choice for me?”
“Because you didn’t have all the information when you made it.”
Joseph’s blue eyes glow in the room that’s dim apart from spotlights shining down on various pieces of art. Standing in front of me in his black tie, with his hair brushed back, and his handsome face brooding with intensity, I feel like he should have his own spotlight shining on him. His words are confusing me. Even though he said he’s taking up his residency closer, I’ve been trying so hard not to read anything into anything he’s said to me. He even told me not to ‘overthink’ his invitation to sleep over the other night. Now he’s staring at me like he’s willing me to see something.
I bring the champagne to my lips and swallow the whole lot. I end up hiccupping.
Putting the glass down next to the shrimp, I fold my arms across my chest as if I can somehow protect myself. “What is all the information, Jay Bird? You’re going to have to spell it out for me.”
“COLT’S WALKING OVER here,” says Joey instead of answering my challenge.
I close my eyes briefly, then turn and smile at Joey’s best friend and his date, Karina. She’s exotic and beautiful.
“So Karina and I are going to head back to Savannah,” says Colt.
Joey claps his best friend’s shoulder. “It means a lot that you were here, thank you.”
Colt shrugs. “No sweat. Wouldn’t have missed it.”
We finish our good-byes and they leave us. And if my eyes don’t deceive me Jack and Keri Ann just made for the exit as well.
I look around, then back at Joseph. “We can share a ride back to Butler Cove but don’t read into it. This is not me coming home with you.”
He puts his hands up. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Yes. Yes, you would.”
Before I notice what he’s doing, he slides a hand around my waist and pulls me flush against his body. Then he dips his face down close to my neck, inhaling deeply and setting my nerve endings alight. “You’re right,” he says, his voice rough as gravel. “I do dream of it. Often.”
Heat travels through my body fast as lightning.
Then he lets me go and steadies me by the elbow as I stumble in my ridiculously high, strappy heels.
I elbow him in the ribs. Hard. Then walk away to ask the concierge to call a cab.
I’d like to say I feel his eyes boring into my back, but I have a feeling they’re on my ass.
AS IT HAPPENS, as soon as we get to the lobby of the hotel from the event space, we bump into the cast of characters who came from Butler Cove to support Keri Ann. Latching onto this safety raft, I immediately procure us spots with them. No hour of alone time in the back of a cab for Joey and me.
I breathe a sigh of relief.
Joey’s jaw tightens but he goes along with it.
The ride home is loud and jovial. Mrs. Weaton and Paulie from the Snapper Grill are discussing the other folks they see at Canasta on Wednesdays. The gossip is rife.
Honestly, I hope I have this much of a social life when I’m almost eighty.
“You have to teach me Spite and Malice,” says Paulie. His white hair is long and tied back in a ponytail. He’s probably fifteen years Mrs. Weaton’s junior, and they’re chatting like best buds. And, if I’m not mistaken, flirting. Age is such a funny thing. The more years on your clock, the shorter the years seem as a measurement of distance. And, as my mom always points out, the shorter they seem as a measurement of time.
Maybe my time away from Butler Cove will fly by. It could become forever. And maybe, the time will drag if my heart doesn’t make the journey with me, and I’ll be dying to come home.
I’m hanging on as tightly as possible to what little of my heart is still in my possession. It was so dumb that I’d given away the bulk of it at eighteen years old.
And worse that Joey now knows it.
THE GROUP DROPS me off at my apartment. I bid them all goodnight.
Joey climbs out too.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Seeing you to your door. We’re on a date.”
I purse my lips. “Why are you so difficult?”
“I’m difficult? You’re impossible.”
“Okay kids,” calls Mrs. Weaton. “Stop arguing and just sleep together already.”
Both of us and everyone in the car turn to look at her, mouth agape.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” She shrugs.
Fuck it. “We already tried that, he wasn’t any good.” I shrug back at her.
Paulie lets out a huge bellow.
Joey folds his arms, looking more handsome than he has a right to with his irritated expression and suit stretched across his shoulders. “You really enjoy baiting me, don’t you?”
I smirk. “You’re an easy target.”
“Is your mother home?”
“Probably.” She isn’t. She still isn’t back from visiting her high school friend.
“Then get back in the car.”
“Why?”
“So I can prove you wrong.”
Paulie whistles.
“I can’t believe we’re having this conversation in front of everyone.” I huff.
“You started it.”
“Actually I think I did,” says Mrs. Weaton. “Come on, Jazz, love. Get in the car.”
“Yeah, Jazz,” mimics Joey. “Get in the car.”
I scowl. “Just for acting like children, the answer is most definitely no.”
Joey un
folds his arms. He takes two steps toward me and pulls me to him. One arm snakes around my waist, the other along my jaw tilting my face up to his. In the milliseconds it takes for him to drop his mouth to mine, I glimpse a multitude of emotions flashing through his expression. Exasperation, arousal, determination, and oh my God, his mouth tastes so good. So him. So addicting. And then I know the other emotion I saw flashing briefly by in the myriad of emotions. Something else that struck me deep inside. Something I recognized. Fear.
Fear I’ll say no? Or fear I’ll say yes? I’m not sure. But it’s enough to make me want to know more. But not tonight.
“Good gracious,” says Mrs. Weaton. “Looks like that boy knows how to kiss.”
He lifts his face from mine, slowly, his breathing shallow.
I set my hands on his hard chest, pressing him gently away. “I’ll come and see you tomorrow. We’ll talk.”
“Maybe he’s not that good,” Mrs. Weaton goes on. “It looked it though. Didn’t it, Paulie?”
“Okay, this is just weird,” I say at her gawking.
“Mmm hmmm,” hums Mrs. Weaton.
I look back at Joey, we both wear equally incredulous expressions at Mrs. Weaton’s weirdness.
“Never knew she had it in her, the saucy minx,” says Joey with a snort.
Paulie rebuckles his seatbelt. “Tonight’s been the best damn entertainment I’ve had in years.”
“Can you give me three minutes, Paulie?” asks Joey, then he takes my hand, and we head down the path to the side of the apartment building where the sliding door to my bedroom is.
“This lack of security annoys me,” he says.
“Yep. I know. The worst thing that’s ever happened within a mile of here was when those drunk assholes hit my dad’s boat and got arrested.”
Joey pulls on my hand, stopping me. “Thinking about that day makes me feel like shit.”
“How do you think it makes me feel?”
“I know. Shit. I know. God, Jazz. You have every right to hate me.”
“I don’t hate you. I never have.”
He expels a humorless laugh. “I know that.”
