by Jane Graves
Before the waiter returned with their desserts, Sarah rose from the table to go to the ladies' room with her mother. When they were washing their hands, Treva said, "That Mona wears the prettiest clothes. She looks just like a peacock, doesn't she?"
No. Peacocks just sat around looking pretty. Mona was more like…
Cruella de Vil.
Great. Now every time Sarah looked at Mona, that was the first thing that popped into her mind, and it was all Nick's fault.
"She does have nice clothes," Sarah said.
Treva dropped her voice. "I do wonder about that white hair, though. She probably has a hard time covering the gray. Laura Lee at the Cut ’N Curl is an expert at that. I'd love to see what she could do with it."
“I think the gray is supposed to be a fashion statement," Sarah said.
"Oh." Treva's brow crinkled, as if she couldn't quite grasp that. In her mother's circle of friends, you went after gray hair like a gardener went after weeds, then dyed the hell out of it all the way through old age and right into the grave.
"Nick seems like a nice boy," Treva said. "Thank heaven he suggested Dickey order a hamburger. He was getting a little put out with the menu."
Sarah winced. That may have been good for Dickey, but Mona hadn't enjoyed Nick's help nearly as much.
"Is Nick seeing anyone?" Treva asked.
Sarah's heart skipped. "Not that I know of."
"Maybe he should meet your cousin Liz. You know what a disaster her dating life has been. Laura Lee hates that, of course. Says at this rate she'll never get married, much less give her grandchildren. At least I know you love children. Of course you'll want them someday."
"Of course," Sarah said. Then she thought about the boy selling sarongs on the beach and got a funny feeling inside.
"Nick doesn't really fit in with his family, does he?" her mother asked.
"I wouldn't know much about that. I just met him myself yesterday."
"All this time and you hadn't even met Randall's brother?"
"He lives a long way from Houston."
"Still, a whole year went by and he never came around? That's sad."
Treva couldn't conceive of a family that didn't behave like, well…a family. She looked around the ladies' room to ensure they were alone, then lowered her voice and said, "Mona doesn't seem to approve of Nick. I mean, he has a business she's never even heard of. How can that be?"
"I don't know. I guess they just don't have that kind of relationship."
"What kind of relationship is it if a mama is that ignorant of what her son is doing?" She shook her head. "I just don't understand it. And did I hear Mona right? Two hundred thousand dollars isn't a decent living?"
"Of course it is," Sarah said. "It just isn't what she's used to."
"I knew the Baxters were rich. But do they really have that much money?"
"Their business does very well."
"Well, it must if that much money is pocket change."
Treva looked around for paper towels, and Sarah had to direct her to the basket that held individual rolled-up cloths for drying hands. Treva picked one up and stared at it strangely, shaking her head. "I can't even imagine what their water bill must be with all the laundry they do around here."
Sarah wanted to say that for the price of coming there, the management should be offering them cashmere towels in gold-plated baskets. But that was exactly the mindset she'd spent the last year trying to erase, that instantaneous Oh, my God! reaction every time she saw one more opulent thing related to the Baxter lifestyle. Instead she'd worked to become as blasé about the whole thing as Randall was, as if first class was the only class. But now, seeing things through her mother's eyes, somehow the impracticality of it annoyed her.
"Mom?"
Treva dried her hands. "Yeah?"
"Was it hard for you and Dad to find the money to come here?"
"Now, honey, you don't have to worry about us. If we couldn't afford it, we wouldn't have done it."
"Even to see your only daughter married?"
"Yes. Even for that."
"What about everyone else? I'm so glad they're here, but—"
"No buts. They wanted to come."
Sarah sighed. "Maybe it was selfish of me to have a wedding like this."
"Sarah Lynn, don't you dare say that! It's the most important day of your life, and it should be everything you ever dreamed of."
Maybe. But if that were true, why was it beginning to feel like the wrong dream to have?
By the time they finished dessert, it was nearly nine-thirty. Her parents, who rarely stayed up much past ten, were more than ready to return to their room. Fortunately, the others seemed willing to follow suit. They gathered for a moment outside the restaurant.
"So what are your plans for tomorrow?" Mona asked Carl and Treva.
"We're going to look at dead people," Carl muttered.
Treva gave him a little slap on his shoulder. "We're going on the Rose Hall tour," she said excitedly. "I saw it on an episode of Ghost Hunters International. It's one of the most haunted places on earth, you know."
"Oh, dear," Mona said. "You do know that the Annie Palmer ghost story is just a myth, don't you?"
"Or is it?" Nick said with a knowing smile.
"Exactly," Treva said. "The place is downright scary. I always wanted to see a real live ghost with my own two eyes." She turned to Murphy and the other women. "Want to come along?"
They all agreed that a ghost tour would be an excellent idea. Then they said their goodbyes and headed toward their rooms. Once they were out of earshot, Mona turned on Nick, her insincere smile becoming a reproachful frown. "Ordering a hamburger and french fries? Seriously? You had that waiter doing everything but putting on a little paper hat!"
"That's what I like about these places. You really can have it your way."
"All those appetizers? And three desserts for one person? There's a limit to this resort's hospitality!"
"No, Mom, I don't believe there is. That's why they call it an all-inclusive resort."
"I suppose there's no point in suggesting you should observe the dress code."
"Nah. You and Dad have a lot of pull around here. They're not about to tell somebody in your party to leave no matter what they're wearing."
"There's no talking to your brother," she said to Randall. "This wedding is going to be a disaster."
With that, she turned on her heel and strode across the atrium, and Randall took up the sword. "Why did you do that?" he asked Nick.
"What? Encourage Sarah's family to feel comfortable and have a good time?"
"I could actually see a vein throbbing in Mom's temple. I'm surprised it didn't burst!"
"Nah. Her blood vessels are pure iron, just like the rest of her."
Randall inched closer to Nick. "I'm warning you again. You'd better knock it off."
"What are you going to do if I don't?" Nick said with a humorless laugh. "Kick me off the island?"
"Don't think I won't."
"I'm afraid you can't do that. The Baxters may have more money than God, but last I checked, they don't own Jamaica." He turned to Sarah. "Good night, Sarah. It was a real pleasure meeting your family."
With that, Nick disappeared down the hall. She hated this. Hated it. She'd wanted so desperately for her wedding to come off without a hitch, but she could tell now it wasn't going to happen. It was bad enough to have Mona treat her family as if they were backwoods nobodies. But now with Nick fanning the flames, it looked as if she'd only seen the beginning of the trouble.
"Didn't I tell you he'd do something like this?" Randall said. "Didn't I tell you?"
"Was it really that bad?" Sarah asked. "The waiter didn't seem to mind."
"The waiter is paid to deal with all kinds of customers. It was my mother who was pissed."
Sarah swore if he uttered the words my mother one more time, she was going to come unglued. She was getting a little tired of the whole thing, including the way M
ona and Randall had treated Nick.
"Interesting about Nick's business, isn't it?" she said. "It appears he's pretty successful."
"Not really. Two hundred thousand is a drop in the bucket. Start taking expenses, taxes, and salaries out of that, and there's nothing left."
Randall was right. Where business was concerned, gross and net were entirely different things. "Still, it seems like a good start."
"Believe me, he'll find a way to screw it up."
Every word Randall spoke about Nick sounded hollow and petty. "It seems to me that you and your mother are pretty hard on him."
"After what he's done, he deserves it."
"He told me he'd stepped out of line a few times as a kid, but that was a long time ago."
"How about what he did when he was an adult?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Nick can be very charming when he wants to be, but there's a lot going on in that calculating brain that you can't see. Don't get taken in by him or we'll both be sorry."
"What are you talking about?"
"It doesn't matter. Just stay away from him. Do you hear me?"
Sarah didn't like being dictated to as far as who she could see and who she couldn't, but something was clearly going on between them she didn't know about.
"It's getting late," Randall said. "I think I'll turn in. I have a video conference in the morning."
"Work?" she said. "Again?"
"You know we're working on a major restructuring of the company. If I deal with it now, we can enjoy our honeymoon later."
Sarah sighed. "Okay. That's fine. I'm a little tired myself. So what about tomorrow?"
"My groomsmen are coming in. I'm playing golf with them in the afternoon."
"My bridesmaids are arriving, too. But I thought maybe you and I could go to the pool after breakfast. Swim a little, relax a little. How does that sound?"
"Sure," Randall said, sounding a little weary. "Can't think of anything I'd rather do."
Sarah frowned. "Love your enthusiasm."
"I've just never liked being around the water all that much."
"If you don't like pools and beaches, why are we getting married in Jamaica?"
"Because—"
He stopped short, and Sarah knew why. Because Mona had suggested it, and he wasn't about to tell her no.
"Because I thought you'd like it," Randall said.
"I do."
"Well, then. There's no problem, is there?" He walked her to the hall that led to her suite and gave her a kiss. "I'll see you at breakfast."
As Randall walked away, Sarah tilted her head, and for just a second or two it was as if she was looking at a stranger. A handsome, successful, well-dressed stranger, but a stranger nonetheless. The feeling unnerved her, and a shiver of foreboding raced down her spine.
She shook off the feeling and headed to her room, praying she’d fall asleep the moment her head hit the pillow, and when she woke in the morning everything would feel right again.
8
Nick sat on Sarah's balcony in the dark, staring out over the ocean, where the muted lights of the resort cast a gentle glow on the evening surf. If Randall happened to be with her when she returned to her room, he'd just leap back across to his balcony, but he doubted that would be the case. If their mother thought it was a bad idea for the two of them to share a room, Randall would spend as little time there as possible.
Idiot.
Nick had truly enjoyed meeting Sarah's relatives. Treva and Carl were the kind of nice, warm, straightforward people he'd come to value above all else, and the rest of the family was as entertaining as anybody he could ever remember meeting. No false fronts, no pretense. He liked that.
And then there was Sarah.
She'd looked beautiful as always, but the relaxed, carefree woman he'd known in Park City was nowhere to be found. It had been all he could do not to leap up from the table, grab her hand, and take her dancing. Or for a long walk on the beach. Or maybe for a short walk to his suite, where he'd fall in bed with her and—
He heard a door opening. Closing. He sat up and listened for voices. Hearing none, he peered through the gauzy draperies into the room. He saw only one silhouette. Sarah went to the dresser and lay down her purse, then stopped and stared at the balcony door.
He sat back on his lounge. She pushed the draperies aside and opened the door. The sea breeze caught her long, blond hair and swirled it around her shoulders. Backlit by the room lamp, she looked like an angel.
"What are you doing here?" she snapped.
"What do you think I'm doing here?"
"You have to stop doing what you did tonight."
"What did I do?"
"You showed up."
Nick shrugged offhandedly. "Just wandered over to the restaurant for a little family time."
"You came to dinner wearing shorts and flip-flops just to drive your mother and Randall crazy."
"I like to feel relaxed."
"Oh, give me a break! You didn't do it to be comfortable. You did it because you want to make them uncomfortable. And what you did with the rest of my family—“
“I invited them to join us. Would you rather I hadn’t?”
“You know what I’m talking about.”
“I was making them feel comfortable. God knows somebody in the Baxter family needed to.” He nodded to the lounge next to him. "Have a seat, Sarah."
"No. Somebody is going to see us together."
“The light is off. Nobody can see anything."
For a moment he thought she was going to go back inside. Instead she walked onto the balcony, closed the door behind her, and sat on one of the deck lounges.
"Why did you encourage my family to treat the Trattoria Romana menu as if it was the buffet at Golden Corral?"
"Because they paid good money for the services at this resort and they should be able to use them. Why did you tell my mother and Randall about my business?
"Better question. Why haven't you?"
"Because they'll find a way to disparage it. I'm sick of putting my head on that chopping block."
"Your family should know about your successes."
"Why? So they can tear me down?"
"So you'd rather people think you're a slacker just to avoid negative comments from your family?"
No. Yes. Hell, he didn't know. All he knew was that he never wanted to hear that tone of disapproval in his mother's voice again. Or Randall's. The condescension had been just about more than he could take.
“I had a business plan," Nick said. "All the numbers in place. But I needed an e-commerce website, and good ones don't come cheap. I had financing lined up with a banker who was ready to loan me most of the money. I had fifty thousand. All I needed was fifty more to make the deal a go. It was a solid business opportunity. Randall stood to make a lot of money with minimal investment, but he wouldn’t even listen because the deal was coming from his worthless little brother.”
“So what did you do?”
“I eventually found another partner who believes in the business as much as I do. I admit it's going to be hard for several years. I still eat a lot of ramen noodles and wonder some months how I'm going to get by. The business may still fail."
"I doubt that."
"Well, you're the only one here who does."
"Okay. I'm sorry I told your family about it. I knew you were avoiding the issue. I just thought if they knew—"
"What? They'd suddenly say, 'Nick! Congratulations! I never knew you were such a success?"
"Yeah," she said, shrugging weakly. "I thought maybe they would."
"When I was in the fourth grade, I worked my ass off on a science fair project. I got third place. Instead of being proud of me, my father told me Baxters were winners, and if I ever learned to apply myself like Randall did, I might actually be able to do something worthwhile. Pretty soon they beat me down so much I quit trying."
"That's awful."
"That's my family. An
d nothing's changed. You heard my mother tonight. If I'd made five million my first year, she would have told me I should have made ten."
“Where I come from, nobody can even conceive of that kind of money." She sighed. "She doesn't like my parents, does she?"
"No. She does. The way she likes her maid, or her gardener, or the guy who washes her car. That's nothing against your parents. It's just that if you're not part of her inner circle, she doesn't think you're worthy of her respect."
"Then I can only imagine what she thinks of me."
"Oh, no. She thinks a lot of you. Or she will, once you become just like her."
"What do you mean?"
"Randall picked you. Since he can do no wrong in her eyes, she's assuming you're just a diamond in the rough she can polish up until you finally become a true Baxter."
What Nick said held so much truth that Sarah felt a strange chill skate across the back of her neck. Hadn't she actually hoped for that? That one day she'd be fully accepted into the family? But for the past few days, that goal had no longer seemed like the Emerald City in the distance she was desperate to get to.
"Make no mistake," Nick said. "You do have to go through my mother to become a member in good standing of the Baxter family. Just make sure whatever hoops she and Randall make you jump through are worth it."
"I'm not jumping through any hoops."
"My mother is calling the shots where your wedding is concerned. True or false?"
"False." She sighed. "Okay, a little bit true."
"Uh huh. You'll find out that whenever you’re around my family, you’re not allowed to make your own decisions.”
“I think you’re overstating things.”
“Who decided to have this wedding in Jamaica?”
“We did. Randall and I.”
“So of all the places in the world to get married, this was the one you picked? The one my parents have traveled to for the past ten years?”
“That was why it made sense to come here. They’re some of the resort’s best customers, so things are less likely to go wrong. And if they go wrong, they’ll fix them."
