Unstoppable: A Sweet Romance (Jersey Girls Book 2)

by Lisa-Marie Cabrelli

  Misty looked completely out of place in this sophisticated environment—her bright pink hair clashed with the mutely striped cushions, and her bag spilled “The Star” magazine, nail polish, and packs of gum onto the dark, polished coffee table. How had she never noticed how rude Misty sounded?

  “Don’t you want to meet Brad before you start drinking, Misty?”

  “Are you kidding? I’m finally able to drink legally and you want me to waste even a minute of this opportunity? No way! I plan on drinking a lot, lady, and you should, too. You need a serious shot of confidence if you want to blow Brad away.” Misty leaned down and pulled off her sweaty sandals, exposing her chipped toenail polish. She chucked them to the middle of the deck and then propped her feet on her pile of stuff on the table in front of her.

  “Misty!” Nandita stepped quickly to the sandals and picked them up, tucking them neatly under the edge of the couch. "Your feet!"

  “What’s your problem, Nan? They have people who clean up for you in a place like this. I'm a guest—I can put my feet wherever I want. You need to relax. Come sit down.”

  “They may have people who do that, but I don’t want them to do it for me,” Nandita said, crossing her arms in front of her chest, “and I don’t want to sit down until I have seen Brad.” She was hanging onto the hope that, if she could only see Brad, everything would be okay. He had been so sweet and attentive on their phone calls together, and she knew seeing him would make her feel more confident about her decision to come on this trip. She needed to feel better soon, or she might have an anxiety attack.

  A huge man emerged from inside the boat, and when he reached her side, he stuck out his hand. His kind smile calmed her a little. “Joe,” he said.

  “Nandita." She shook his hand gratefully and smiled back. At least here was someone who was acting like he was happy to see them. The girl, Ginny, had driven as though she would rather crash them straight into the ocean than take them to the Lauren Belle. "That’s my friend, Misty.”

  Joe turned to Misty, who gave him a cheeky wave. “I hear you would like a drink, Miss. What can I bring you?”

  “Champagne. I’d like something to eat, too—the snacks on the plane sucked.”

  Joe looked over his shoulder and raised his eyebrows.

  Nandita felt immediately ashamed of her friend. “We’re sorry to be a bother. I’m sure we would enjoy whatever you would care to bring us. That’s what Misty means.”

  “Uh… that is not what I mean,” Misty called from the couch, sticking her head around Joe so she could scowl at Nandita. “I mean I want champagne. I guarantee you have the good stuff, too. Bring that.”

  Joe nodded silently and turned to go inside. Nandita reached her hand out to touch his huge arm. “I really am sorry to bother you, but could you please let Brad know we are here? I would like to see him, please.”

  Joe shook his head, and his face went soft and sad. “I’m sorry, Miss, but Mr. Henderson is not on the yacht. He left to do some business, and we aren’t sure if we are expecting him back this evening. He left word that we should make you both comfortable.”

  “Wait!” Misty stood and pushed past the coffee table, knocking her bag to the floor. “I came here for a party. Where’s the party?” She stepped around Joe to stand next to Nandita and crossed her arms. “That’s pretty rude of him, you know? Brad has guests!” Nandita elbowed Misty hard, but she shoved her back with her hip and ignored her. “Can you call him and let him know we’re here?”

  “Mr. Henderson knows you girls are here,” Joe said. “He’ll be back tomorrow. Once you have had some refreshments, Ginny will show you to your cabins.” He walked past them into the boat.

  Misty stomped back to the couch and threw herself down again. “Well, can you believe that? We have four days on a luxury yacht and we get to spend the first night stuck in our cabins. Sorry, Nandita, but this is a bust. We are not staying here. Once I get some champagne and a shower, I am off to find the party.”

  She looked around the bustling Marina Village, and her gaze rested on the towers of the Atlantis. “You can bet there is plenty of good stuff happening around here without your beloved Brad.” She picked up her bag and started stuffing her junk back inside. “You might need to loan me some money, though. I’ll pay you back, but my mom couldn’t come up with any." Of course she couldn't, thought Misty sadly. She never showed up. "I've heard it’s not too cheap around here. Do you think we could charge things to the yacht?”

  Nandita felt stunned and a little numb. Brad wasn’t here? What was she doing here—and what was she doing here with Misty? When Misty had asked her to borrow the plane fare, Nandita had been shocked. It was a lot of money. She had borrowed and loaned amongst her friends in India constantly, though, and maybe it was common to loan higher amounts in America.

  Her friend had insisted her mom would give her cash for the ticket when she got home, as well as provide them both with some spending money, but when the time came to leave for the airport, her mom still hadn't arrived. Misty had shrugged and said they would work it out later, but now Nandita suddenly realized Misty had never intended to bring money in the first place.

  “I don’t think I want to go out, Misty. I think I’ll wait here, in case Brad comes back.”

  Misty looked at her in surprise. “You cannot be serious, Nan. I want off this yacht and I want you with me. There is fun to be had, lady!”

  “Oh, there’s fun to be had, alright.” They both jumped at the sound of the low, suggestive voice. Standing at the top of the gangplank was a tall, lean guy with floppy hair filled with product that made it look wet. It looked tacky and stiff, but somehow it worked on him. He was very handsome.

  “Mr. Symonette.” Joe had returned with their drinks, and he quickly placed them on the table before moving toward the stylish man. “What can I do for you today?” he asked as he scanned the deck and nearby sidewalk of the village.

  “You know I’m no trouble, Joe,” the man grinned and moved his head like a parrot, trying to catch Joe’s eye. “Just looking for our friend, Brad, is all.”

  “Mr. Henderson isn’t here right now. He probably won’t be back today.”

  Nandita sighed in disappointment, but Misty got up from her seat and went to perch on the arm of the couch closest to the gangplank. She crossed her legs slowly, and there was a lot of leg to look at, considering her tiny shorts. She leaned with a tilt of her cleavage toward Mr. Symonette.

  “Can you believe he left his guests high and dry—and we’ve only just arrived?” Nandita caught her friend’s seductive wink and looked toward Joe, feeling a bit panicked.

  Joe moved in front of Misty, half-blocking her from view. “Mr. Henderson left you in our care, Miss Misty, and we'll take care of you.” The girl got up and skipped around Joe to lean on the banister next to the gangplank steps within touching distance of Slick Hair.

  “Yeah, but I think Mr. Symonette could probably help us find something fun to do while we wait, right?” She raised her eyebrows at him.

  “Call me Myron, and I certainly can. I was just headed out for an afternoon drink on Rose Island. Would you and your friend care to join us? It's a short, twenty-minute boat ride, depending on how fast you care to drive, of course.”

  “We’d love to! Right, Nan?” Misty turned toward Nandita, who was already shaking her head.

  “No. Sorry, Misty, but I think we should wait for Brad.”

  Misty scowled at her. “Well, you can wait for Brad, if you’d like. I am going to take Myron up on his kind invitation. I like the sound of this Rose Island. We’re on vacation, you know, and I think you should—”

  Joe interrupted, “But you haven’t even unpacked, Miss Misty. Wouldn’t you like to see your cabin?”

  She was already by the couch, sitting on the deck and pulling on her shoes. She started emptying stuff out of her straw bag onto the table again. “No, you can get what’s-her-name to unpack for me. She can put all this stuff away, too.” She waved her
hand at the pile she had just thrown on the coffee table, took a large swig from the champagne flute Joe had just left, and headed back toward Myron. “I’ll see you later, Nandita. I think you’d have more fun with us, but you won't catch me begging. Your loss.”

  Myron looked at Misty, slightly nonplussed, and shrugged. “Okay, then,” he said, “let’s go party.” They were halfway down the gangplank when Myron turned to Joe and said, “Tell Mr. Henderson he can expect another visit from me soon.”

  Nandita felt close to tears. This wasn't going as expected. She should never have come.

  49

  Blockade

  Stephen’s instructions were clear: keep Brad off the boat until Don told him it was okay to return. Not only did Don need access to Brad’s laptop, he also needed to keep Brad away from Myron—sources said he was planning on stopping by.

  They were very close to an indictment, and Don’s pile of evidence was getting pretty convincing, but he knew that, as soon as he made a move, Brad’s daddy would lawyer him up like crazy. His case needed to be airtight before he made his move. Don had even considered wiring Stephen with a hidden mic to collect some audio evidence, but they decided it was too risky and the results probably wouldn’t even be admissible in court, anyway.

  “So, you're helping out my pal, here?” Lester Butler asked Brad. He leaned his heft into the padded leather back of his chair and the wheels creaked in protest. He was a large man—well-fed and well-lubricated with a mixture of Kalik and eighteen-year-old scotch. Stephen had never actually met him, but he was doing a fine job of convincing Brad that he had. Anyone would think they were old college buddies, the way he slapped Stephen’s back and joked about his crappy golf game.

  Lester was obviously very practiced in the art of deception. He had been primed by Don, of course, so he knew exactly what to say and do. He wouldn't depart from the script; his own legal status was on the line, after all. Stephen wasn’t sure what Don had on him, but it must have been pretty powerful. Lester Butler was under his thumb.

  “You didn’t tell me you had an ultra-successful American investor working your boat, Lester.” Brad settled into his seat and accepted the proffered Graycliff cigar. “I would have approached him much earlier and offered my assistance if you had.”

  “Well, Stephen is one of those down-to-Earth kind of folks. He doesn’t like to flaunt his successes or get caught in the spotlight, right, Stephen?” He smiled at him as though he were a favored son. This guy was good.

  The meeting progressed smoothly, and Brad laid out the intricate and highly-illegal options available. Stephen struggled to grasp some of the terminology and techniques, which turned out to be a benefit, as it gave him an excuse to ask many questions, extending the meeting while he waited for Don’s text. Lester and Brad were enthusiastic about the topic, often getting caught up in side conversations about a client who had achieved this, or this billionaire who had gotten away with that.

  He was happy for them to talk to each other, because he was finding it hard to concentrate when thoughts of the lovely Maureen kept popping, unbidden, into his head. More than once, he found himself caught up in a daydream of memories from the last three glorious days, having to snap to it when the conversation focused back on him.

  Stephen knew he was in love. He hadn’t thought it could happen again after the disaster that was Lulu, but this was real. Maureen was no Lulu; what you saw was what you got. There was no manipulation, no fake emotions, and no ugly secrets—just pure, good Maureen. He couldn’t wait to get back to her, and he willed the phone to beep with a text from Don.

  The meeting went on and on. It started to feel a little awkward as the conversation faltered. Lester had vouched for Brad, they had discussed Stephen’s needs, and Lester’s secretary had buzzed through a few times with visitors and calls. Lester had refused them, but they seemed to be increasing in frequency. He looked at Stephen frantically, but he had no idea what to do. He hadn’t received a text from Don, yet, and Brad seemed to be quite happy with his scotch and cigar. Stephen realized Brad didn’t even want to leave.

  His phone buzzed, and he looked into his lap discreetly. It was Don.

  Call me, please.

  He stood from the desk. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to take a call.” Lester shot him a dirty look, but he shrugged. Stephen stepped outside the oak-paneled office and walked into the hallway to avoid any chance of Brad overhearing the conversation.

  “What’s up?”

  “We’ve got it.” Don was elated. “We’ve got everything we need. That Jim Albright may be a crap deckhand, but he is an amazing hacker. Brad won’t have any idea he was compromised.”

  “Thank God—it’s getting hairy in there. I'm not sure what's going on, but Brad must have gotten wind of a Myron visit. He doesn’t look like he’s planning on leaving. What’s the deal there?”

  Don laughed. “No problems there. He came by the boat earlier and let it slip he was off to Rose Island for the day. He took one of Brad's new girls with him, too. Lester sent a bunch of his contacts over there to add to the party. From what I hear, it’s a good one, and there doesn’t seem to be a chance that anyone will be driving a boat back tonight. Myron will probably crash over there. From what I hear about him, a party is more important than business.”

  “Okay, that should help. I’ll let the news drop in conversation, and maybe I can get Brad out of here and back to the boat. I have stuff I want to do tonight.” His mind flashed to a picture of Maureen waiting for him in the pool. She was way too modest for anything but a one-piece bathing suit, but in Stephen’s imagination, she was floating naked under the stars.

  “What about Lauren Belle?”

  Stephen stiffened, his daydream blown away. “What about her?”

  “What if she shows up at the boat tonight, carrying on about her yacht and what’s going on? Don’t you think Brad would be clued in that something is up with Lester?”

  “What are you saying, Don?”

  “I’m saying you need to go see her. Keep her off this yacht until tomorrow morning, when I can get the staff in to finish this off.”

  Stephen’s anger flared. He hadn’t signed up for this. He didn’t even answer Don and just clicked the “end” button on his phone before heading back to Lester’s office. He had to get Brad back to the boat, so he could run the rest of his errands and get back to Maureen. His arrival time was getting pushed back later and later.

  He headed back toward the office, but stopped outside the door when he heard raised voices. “Why didn’t you tell me there was a partner owner of this yacht, Lester? I thought it belonged to you and you alone. You knew I needed complete privacy. Does everyone on that boat work for you?”

  “Of course they do, Brad. You know they do; I introduced all of them, remember?” Lester didn’t sound at all calm to Stephen’s ears, but his words seemed to soothe Brad.

  “Yeah, I know you did. I’m just totally paranoid because of this Myron shit. I know you told me not to worry about him, but I don’t like his attitude. I also don’t like that Marshall guy talking to him behind my back. Something's not one hundred percent, Lester. You know I trust you, it’s just... I’m feeling off.”

  “Don’t worry, Brad. Everything's fine. I’ll tell you what: I’ll send some of my boys over tonight to keep you company. Open up a few beds in your crew quarters and you’ve got them for the night.”

  Not only did Lester not sound calm, but he also didn’t sound convincing. The sooner Stephen got Brad back to the boat and into his cabin with a drink and the company of his new girlfriend, the better.

  Even then, though, Stephen's horrible day wouldn't be over, now he knew there was no chance of avoiding a meeting with Lauren Belle.

  50

  Running Away

  I could get used to this, Maureen thought. She lay on one of the padded lounge chairs on the upper back patio after moving it to the perfect spot for optimal sun without blocking her ocean view. She could see tan lines,
already. When was the last time she had been alone with no obligations to anyone and able to do exactly what she wanted? Maybe at home, when she was sitting in front of the TV, but never in a luxurious location like this.

  It was only 5:00 pm, but this day already felt as though it had lasted forever. Part of her willed the clock to go faster; she was physically yearning for Stephen’s presence. The other part of her, however, knew that, if she wished these hours away, she would regret it in the future. When would she ever have the opportunity for a vacation like this again? She couldn't imagine she would ever be able to afford it.

  She’d kept the phone at her side, in case Stephen called, and now she decided she would call Claire. She missed her friend and couldn’t remember the last time she had gone more than forty-eight hours without speaking to her.

  “Hello?” Claire’s voice sounded strained.

  “Hey, Claire, what’s up? It’s Maureen.”

  “Oh, Maureen.” Yep, it was definitely strained. “It’s so great to hear from you! I’ve been thinking about you. How’s it going over there? Have you swept Brad off his feet, yet?”

  “Well, no, that didn’t exactly go as planned. Are you okay?”

  “Of course. I’ll give you all of my news, but I want to hear yours first. This is such an exciting trip for you!”

  Maureen sat up, putting the paperback she had pulled from the loft library onto the patio. “Honestly, Claire, what’s wrong?”

  “Everything’s fine, Maureen. I’m dying to hear about you. Sally said there was some cute boat guy there, too?”

  Maureen had wanted to take care of listening to her friend first, as was her usual habit, but at the mention of Stephen, her resolve melted. “Oh, Claire, you will never believe what happened." She told Claire everything, from the disastrous attempts at impressing Brad right through to her dinner on the beach and drunken night on the yacht. Claire was even laughing at her “Make Every Man Want You” references. She sounded so stressed that it made Maureen feel good about making her laugh.