But I looked anyway.
One of my mug shots—I looked young and hungry and snarly—had been paired next to a still of Luna the night of her TED Talk. I looked like a feral animal. Luna looked like a glowing corporate princess.
The comparison wasn’t lost on me. I was a goddamn human, after all.
I shrugged, training my eyes back on Luna. My anchor.
“Luna sees otherwise,” I said shortly.
Jasmine huffed a little, as if my very existence was a frustration.
“Listen, Beck,” she started. I turned at the sincerity in her tone. “If you… if you’re serious about Luna, you need to take a hard look at how you affect her. Her reputation as a spokeswoman, as the personal brand for Wild Heart, is what makes them so successful. She won’t stay down forever.”
“I agree,” I said. “Look at her up there.” On stage, with the sun setting behind us and the light in shades of pink, Luna glowed. Chin lifted, shoulders back—she was a woman comfortable in her own skin, a warrior leading her company through the next stage of battles. A true leader. I looked at the crowd’s faces, their awe. Luna’s charm was cranked all the way up. It sparked off her like a storm of lightning.
“If you agree, then you’ll do what’s best for her,” Jasmine said, indicating the people around us. “You won’t hold her back.”
“I would never—” I started to say—harshly—but Jasmine was already gone, moving back through the crowd.
You won’t hold her back.
Her words lodged themselves in the darkest, weakest corners of my thoughts.
I usually knew a match when I saw one, but it was hard when our worlds were so fucking different.
There was a loud roar from the street behind me. Twenty motorcycles drove past, slow enough for me to see the screaming skull on the back of their jackets. There was no way they’d be able to get into this beach—too much security—but they were sending me one final message.
Goddamn motorcycle trash.
That would only hold back that beautiful woman on the stage.
55
Luna
The words of my speech swam before my eyes. My fingers wouldn’t stop trembling. Which was unusual for me—I didn’t fear public speaking. But I did fear the anxiety that was storming its way in. Facing a crowd of people who’d had nasty things to say about me just the other week.
I thought about Beck that day with Jimmy. Courage. Value. The bravery of speaking your truth and not caring about what others might say.
I put my phone down. Flipped it over so I couldn’t see the speech I’d written. It was a good speech, but I was going to have to flay myself open without any prompts tonight.
I was going full-on Beck Mason.
“Good evening, everyone,” I said. “I’m incredibly honored to be here this evening with all of you, the women I respect most in this community.” I swallowed hard, caught Beck in the crowd. I couldn’t read the strange look on his face. “Ten years ago, I had two goals in mind. To create a successful cosmetics company that could change the beauty industry and its horrible animal testing practices.” I swallowed. “The other was to make enough money I could give it all away. The first one I’ve done—or I did, until I made a huge mistake and decided to partner with a company that didn’t match my values. And for that I’ve apologized, but allow me to repeat myself—I am truly sorry. Please know Wild Heart has been following through on all of the promises we made to ensure this never happens again. It was absolutely my fault, and it was absolutely a decision based entirely on greed and not justice.”
I looked down at my notes, seeking comfort, then remembered I was winging it.
“The second part isn’t true,” I continued. “I’m speaking now to everyone on this beach who is extraordinarily wealthy, like me. Who is extraordinarily successful, like me. Isn’t it interesting how the more you make, the more terrified you become of losing it? I’m sitting on more money than I could realistically spend in a lifetime and yet I hoard it for myself.”
I paused—the audience was shifting in the sand. I could hear throats being cleared.
“I take my role as a young, female entrepreneur seriously. It’s a level of success that has been denied to women in our society. I am proud to be here, proud of my best friends, who have also worked incredibly hard to be here while maintaining their ethics and integrity. That’s no easy feat,” I said, catching Alissa’s eye. “I am proud to have founded a company that I poured my blood, sweat and tears into. But money can be directed towards good or evil, nonprofits, or in my case, more yoga pants than a woman could ever wear.”
A smattering of laughter—but it was very, very true.
“We all get to direct our money in the way that matters the most to us. That could be our families, our children, our pets. Our homes, our art. Books, travel, adventure. To pay our bills so we don’t lose our home. To pay for gas so we can visit a loved one in the hospital every day. Because I have so very much of it, I believe it should be given away. That is my choice. The one I’m rededicating myself to, having lost my way.”
My voice wavered a bit at the end. I paused. Took a breath.
“I want to live in a world where humans and animals and the natural world have value. I never want that taken away.” I looked right at Beck. “From anyone. Tonight I’d like to formally announce the Wild Heart Foundation, which will act as the funding arm of the Wild Heart company. Philanthropy will be at the heart of our company moving forward. Giving back. Paving the way for even more corporations to give even more of their profits to community organizations that are changing things for the better.” I swallowed, thought about that girl in the picture, sandy hair and a happy heart. “Philanthropy will be at the heart of my life, moving forward. Because it’s time. And I believe all of us can agree that we have the power to chart our businesses on a better course. That is what I believe real business is about. And that is how I believe the women in this audience can stand out, do better, be better. A rising tide lifts all boats, as they say. Let’s lift them all.”
I looked at Alissa, who nodded in approval. “Thank you,” I said into the microphone. The audience clapped—really clapped—but I felt shaky, light, dizzy, weird. Side effects of being honest, I guessed. The audience was still clapping. I smiled. Waved a little. Made my way off the stage to find Beck.
But I was crushed—Jasmine, gripping my elbow and pulling me towards a trio of cameras.
“I need to find Beck first,” I said to her.
“Interviews first, Beck second,” she said. A mic was shoved into my face and ten years of public relations training kicked in. As the event continued around us, I gave a handful of interviews about the foundation—all while scanning the crowd. Where was my boyfriend?
And by the time I finally extricated myself from Jasmine and camera crews, I spotted his broad back. Walking down Ocean Drive.
Away from me.
56
Beck
I knew two things as I watched Luna declare her values and her dreams for the world up on that stage.
I was in love with her.
And I had to end it.
I stayed long enough to watch her finish her speech and give interviews—watched the crowd surge toward her. Cameras and reporters were trying to get to her. The applause after her speech was enthusiastic. If Luna had been looking forward to starting fresh, tonight was that night.
You won’t hold her back, will you?
“Beck, wait.”
Luna’s voice, floating toward me in the crowd. I was making my way to the street, which was filled with the usual tourists. People were out, having a blast along South Beach, while I was having my heart broken.
“Beck, wait, where are you going?” There was a blur of orange and then an arm, yanking me behind a building.
“Hey,” Luna said. “Where are you running off to? Was my speech okay? Do you want to go out for celebratory tacos later tonight?”
She was babbling, bright-eyed. F
lushed.
My fists clenched at my side, desperate to kiss her. Hold her one last time.
I took a step back, putting distance between us. “Your speech was incredible. You’re incredible—” I broke off, voice thick.
“Why, thank you,” she said. “You were my inspiration.”
I looked down at my feet but no extra courage was there.
“I bumped into my mother and her crew on the walk over here tonight,” I said. “She wanted to drop by to remind me that I’m motorcycle trash that will never belong.”
Fury slashed across Luna’s face, twisting her mouth. “That’s categorically untrue, Beck Mason.”
“Is it?” I asked.
Now it was Luna’s turn to step back. “Of course it is. You know that. You’re so much more than your family or your past. You’re… you’re everything.”
Her words stunned me for a second.
“Jasmine doesn’t think so,” I managed, coughing out the words.
She looked confused. “Jasmine? Wait, what did Jasmine say to you?”
“She told me I was always going to be a problem for you. My past. My family. I was holding you back.”
Luna grabbed my hand like she knew I was trying to back away.
“I don’t know why she would say that,” she said. “And I’m truly sorry she did.”
“I’m not,” I said sadly. “We’ve talked so much about authenticity, Luna. Honesty. The truth. Doesn’t part of you believe that to be the truth?”
“Not at all.” She gripped me tighter. “Besides, I don’t care. You know I don’t care about that, Beck. I only care about you.”
“I’m not so sure,” I said, feeling like a bastard. Feeling more like a bastard when I realized it was the truth. I wasn’t sure Luna still didn’t feel the allure of Instagram comments and branding opportunities. It had been her life for ten years, after all.
Luna let me go. Our line in the sand was forming and I wasn’t going to budge.
It was better, really, if I didn’t.
“If I cared that much about my reputation, how come I never stopped working with you?” she said, swallowing over and over. Like she was trying to fend off tears. “Your past and your family have been an issue since literally the beginning. You told me. Jasmine told me. I could have cut contact with you a hundred different times and didn’t. Because I… I…” She stopped.
“Maybe you should have,” I said. “If my mom is showing back up in my life again, we have a problem. It will always be a problem, Luna.”
“You never changed your last name,” she said quietly.
“What?”
“You never changed your last name,” she said, louder this time. “I just realized. Your last name is recognizable and hated and you could have legally changed it twenty years ago. But you didn’t.”
My jaw worked, teeth grinding. “Your point?”
“It’s the same as why you started the nonprofit even though you knew you’d struggle being the leader. You, Beck Mason, are no longer held hostage by the demands of your family. You don’t care. If you did, you’d be Beck Smith right now. But you kept it like a badge of honor. I think you kept it to remind yourself they don’t matter to you. What did you say about them the other night? They’re worth less than the dog shit on the bottom of a shoe.”
Having my words thrown back at me like that didn’t feel so great.
Neither did admitting she was right about my last name.
“That doesn’t mean we’re still going to work out, Luna.”
“Is that what we’re discussing right now?” Her dark eyes flashed. “Whether or not our relationship will be successful?”
“Luna,” I said. Gentler this time. Her face lit up with hope and I died a little bit inside. “Tell me you actually see a future between the two of us. I have four hundred dollars to my name and zero formal education. I’ll never be a vegan or a shaman or a yoga instructor or some charming, witty guy you can take to functions filled with rich assholes. We don’t look right.”
“Who cares what we look like?” she shot back.
“You do,” I said.
She took a step back, a deep hurt in her eyes. It felt like I was being carved out, gutted. Georgie’s words wouldn’t stop, I was helpless to resist them. You think your girlfriend will ever see you as more than just motorcycle trash?
This was a fantasy and I’d known it all along.
“Beck,” Luna begged—and she was crying now. “Please don’t do this. Whatever it is you’re about to do.”
“I don’t think we should see each other anymore,” I said, every word dragging from my throat like a heavy stone. “We’ve had a lot of… fun. But you and I both know it’s time.”
Silence hung between us—punctured by people laughing, shouting, the ocean waves. Luna looked completely shocked.
“Well, that sucks,” she said finally. “Because I’m like totally and completely, madly in love with you, Beck Mason.”
Who showed you love, Beck?
Luna. Luna does. Or did. It was too tempting to cast off my doubts. Run off into the sunset with the rainbow billionaire.
But we’d only be having this argument a month from now. I knew it.
“Okay,” I said. Like a coward.
Which pissed her the hell off. Which was fine by me—I preferred her anger to her tears.
“Walls back up, huh?” she said. She lifted her chin, wiped her cheeks. I didn’t reply. “I know it’s scary. I know we have to trust each other. But guess what? I trust you, Beck. I trust you and I’m in love with you.”
“I don’t trust you,” I said, the truth of that startling me. There’d always been a grain of it left in there—the differences in our power, our status, our wealth were so shockingly high, how could I not?
She went still as a stone. Fury gone. Tears gone. Energy zapped back in. She looked silently devastated.
“That’s that, then,” she said. “If you don’t trust me, we can’t be together.”
“Right,” I said.
Her lip trembled. “Right,” she repeated. “I guess we’re over.”
“I guess.”
Without another word, Luna da Rosa walked away from me, head held high. And I watched her, watched her until she blended into Miami’s nightlife crowd. Watched the love of my life take my heart with her.
I wasn’t ever going to get it back.
But it was for the best.
57
Luna
Nights like these were the reason why the enclave had been built. Why Emily, Cameron, Daisy and I insisted on building mansions next door to each other. Because I couldn’t, wouldn’t, was physically unable to crawl through the front door of my house.
Instead, as I waited for my driver, I sent a single text to our group chat: Beck broke up with me.
Immediately, Cameron texted: We’ll be here when you’re dropped off.
I’d stashed my phone in my purse and pasted a fake smile on for Alissa. After I’d left Beck Mason, the love of my life, I’d calmly walked back to the event and proceeded to network like the CEO that I was. There were a number of businesswomen committed to making future, substantial gifts to the Wild Heart Foundation.
I would have been over the moon—finally feeling like me again—if my heart hadn’t been ripped out.
That truth sat like a heavy stone in my stomach, weighing me down all night. A night I barely got through. I’d just told a man that I loved him and he’d responded with I don’t trust you.
I couldn’t blame him.
The billionaire devil on my shoulder had claimed another victim. Wasn’t I probably to blame? From the moment we’d met, Beck had suspected I was using Lucky Dog for my own reputation. And I was. Or I had been. That wasn’t exactly the right way to start off a relationship with someone.
As I waited for my driver, feet aching, head aching, heart numb, Alissa waited with me. She leveled a cool gaze my way—like she could see all of my secrets.
“I b
elieve in what you said tonight. The way money affects us, changes us. I’m awake most nights, terrified I’ll lose everything. When the truth is, I don’t need any more cash, that’s for sure.”
My jaw clenched. “Yeah. That’s me all the time now.”
I raised my arm when I saw my driver, hailing him over.
“Is it true Wild Heart lost its contract with Fischer Home Goods?”
“It is,” I said, preparing to say goodbye. Alissa handed me her business card with a smile.
“We’re not a mega-corporation like Fischer. But we’re women-run, independent. A lot of things we sell are eco-conscious. Vegan. Wild Heart might be the right fit for our stores. We’ve been looking for a cosmetics line to feature.”
“In Ruby’s Closet?” I asked, incredulous. They were way smaller than Fischer but I admired them so much more. “I’ve, I mean, I’ve always been a huge fan of your store.”
“Maybe Wild Heart should contract with a business that matches your values better,” Alissa said. Then she gave me a wave before walking away.
Through the fog of sadness shone a small ray of light. A direction. Sylvia would love it.
I loved it.
I went to step into the car when suddenly Jasmine appeared, looking dour as ever and strapped to her phone. But she did perk up a bit when she saw me.
“People loved you,” she said. And she wasn’t wrong. “Can you do a couple more interviews with the news before you leave?”
“No, I’m going home,” I said. I felt slimy enough already. “Jasmine, I need to ask you a question,” I said. She was still staring at her screen. Ignoring me. “Jasmine.”
My tone was sharp enough that she looked up. “What?”
“Did you tell Beck that he was only ever going to hold me back?”
She swallowed. “I mean… yes. It’s true though.”
“So… Beck just dumped me.”
WILD OPEN HEARTS: A Bluewater Billionaires Romantic Comedy Page 27
