“I’m not happy. I’m never going to be happy until you come to your senses.”
“Fine. But in the meantime, let’s mellow you out with tequila.”
“Okay,” I reluctantly said. There was really nothing for me to do alone in the hotel room.
If I was lucky, Brooklyn would come to the pool by herself. If I wasn’t, I might be able to separate her from Colton by suggesting a swim. I was determined to get her away from him as much as possible.
“The Vista pool on the twenty-sixth floor. We’ll be there in ten.”
I ended the call and headed for the bathroom to put my hair up out of the way.
I found a hotel tote bag and a small bottle of suntan lotion.
I dropped my key card and the lotion into the tote bag, locked my purse in the little safe and took the elevator down to twenty-six.
Brooklyn and Colton were already there.
Colton looked so much like Max that I did a double take. But then he smiled, and I knew it wasn’t Max. Colton looked buttoned-down and professional, a little unapproachable. Max came across as open and warm, even when you didn’t know him. I thought his irises might be a shade darker than Colton’s, his lips a little fuller and his eyebrows slightly heavier.
Brooklyn waved a purple shopping bag. “I bought you some new sandals, too.”
“Thanks,” I said as I approached.
“Hello, Layla,” Colton said.
Brooklyn handed me the bag.
“Hello, Colton.” I wouldn’t be friendly. But I wouldn’t be nasty, either. “Thank you for this.”
“No problem.”
“Oh, I can see this is going to be fun,” Brooklyn said. “Both of you, lighten up.”
“I’m not feeling light,” I said.
“I can be light,” Colton said.
He didn’t look light. He looked wary.
I couldn’t really blame him for that. I was his girlfriend’s fiancé’s sister after all. I hoped he felt wary...and guilty. I hoped he felt both wary and guilty. He deserved to feel that way.
“You should put on your suit,” Brooklyn said to me.
She looked around the pool deck, then pointed. “We’ll go over there, under the striped blue umbrella, the one that’s open.”
“Okay,” I said.
It did look like a great spot, in front of a couple of palm trees, beside a Plexiglas railing.
“I’ll get the drinks,” Colton said. “Lime margarita okay with you?” he asked me.
“Sure.” I didn’t like myself for accepting his hospitality while being so cold to him. “Charge it to my room.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said, moving on to Brooklyn. “Lime?” he asked her.
“Mango,” she said.
He smiled.
His eyes grew warmer, softer, when he looked at Brooklyn.
I could see why she thought he was in love.
I turned and shook the image out of my head. Colton wasn’t in love with Brooklyn. Colton barely knew Brooklyn. Whatever he was feeling was superficial and likely to disappear at any moment.
I was puzzled as to why Brooklyn was buying into his infatuation. Guys had been falling for her at first sight since we’d turned fourteen. She always brushed it off, laughed it off, took the free milkshake or martini and went on her way.
I wondered what was different this time as I let myself into the richly appointed changing room off the pool deck. The walls were a warm peach, with a matching marble floor. The decor was accented with polished cedar benches and cubical doors.
The countertops were decorated with baskets of the same high-end toiletries I’d found in my room. I hadn’t needed to bring my own suntan lotion. There were five choices, all different strengths, here for the taking.
I changed into the suit and cover-up. It fit perfectly, and looked terrific. Brooklyn always did have great taste in clothes. I tucked my jeans, blouse and underwear into the tote bag, helped myself to a striped beach towel from the shelf by the door and headed back out to the pool deck.
I decided that if I could find a way to ignore Colton, this could be a perfectly pleasant afternoon.
The deck loungers looked cushy and comfy. The buzz of conversation on the deck was just right. There was music in the background, but it was low and flowing, keeping with the laid-back mood of the pool deck.
I saw a waiter carrying a tray of frosty, garnished margaritas. They looked good. In fact, they looked delicious.
As I walked, the waiter stayed ahead of me, then he set down the drinks on the table next to Brooklyn.
Colton had settled on the opposite side of her, so I took the lounger across the table. It had been set up with plush fitted toweling with a folded towel waiting for me at the foot. I realized, again, I hadn’t needed to bring my own supplies.
“You look great,” Brooklyn said as she handed one of the lime margaritas across to Colton.
“Thanks for this,” I said. “I love it.”
“I knew it was you the second I saw it.”
“She did,” Colton said.
I wished I didn’t have to acknowledge him, but that would be unforgivably rude.
I settled for making the oblique point that I had known Brooklyn her whole life. “Brooklyn’s always had great taste in clothes. Even when we were kids.”
Colton’s smile said he knew exactly what I was doing.
Well, that was annoying.
“I’m learning all kinds of great things about Brooklyn,” he said.
“Are you two going to be snotty?” Brooklyn asked.
“I think so,” I said.
Colton grinned.
“Well, get it out of your system, I guess.” She stripped off her gauzy bikini cover-up, plopped her sunglasses over her eyes and settled back on the lounger.
I looked at Colton, and he looked back at me.
“She’s in love with my brother,” I said.
“I respect that.”
His answer was preposterous.
“No, you don’t.”
“I respect that she gets to make up her own mind.”
I didn’t have a ready answer for that. I couldn’t disagree with it. But Brooklyn wasn’t currently in her right mind, so it didn’t really count.
I took a drink of my margarita, stalling for time.
“You disagree?” he asked, clearly sensing his advantage in the conversation.
“I think you’ve only just met each other.”
“True.” He nodded. “But there’s enough that we know we need to give it a shot.”
“Damn the torpedoes?” I asked. “Just test it out and see where it leads, no matter what kind of destruction you leave in your wake?”
“Layla,” Brooklyn said.
“It’s okay,” Colton said. “She’s entitled to her opinion.”
I summoned my best sarcastic tone. “Thank you so much.”
To my annoyance, Colton grinned again. “Brooklyn told me you were feisty.”
“I’m not feisty.”
Brooklyn lifted her glasses and opened one eye to look at me. “Are you kidding me?”
“Well, of course, I’m feisty. But my feistiness is not the reason for my reaction to this preposterous situation. I’m also logical and reasonable. I’m a mathematician, and this is completely illogical.”
“I don’t think love follows a mathematical formula,” Brooklyn said.
“It obeys the laws of statistics and probability. Everything does.”
“There are outliers,” Colton said. He reached for Brooklyn’s hand.
“We’re outliers,” she said.
I wanted to yank them apart, but I couldn’t reach from here. Coming to my feet and marching around Brooklyn’s lounger to pull their hands apart seemed ridiculously dramatic, not to
mention futile.
I needed a better plan than that.
I took another long drink of the margarita, sitting back and moving my attention to the water polo game at the far end of the pool. I knew full well that tequila didn’t improve a person’s decision-making capabilities. But the drink was delicious, and lowering my stress level would at least help me cope with the problem—even if I couldn’t fix it right at this moment.
One of the teams scored, and a cheer came up.
Behind them, a movement caught my eye.
Max.
He was wearing black swim trunks and nothing else, strolling across the deck as if he owned the place. The light was better here than it had been in his hotel suite that first night. His six-pack abs were rigid below his sculpted pecs. His shoulders were broad, his biceps defined, and I saw he had an abstract blackwork tattoo on his left shoulder.
I wondered why I hadn’t noticed it last night.
Our gazes locked, and my stress level spiked.
* * *
I rocked to my feet.
“Let’s swim,” I said to Brooklyn.
“In the water?” she asked, frowning as she looked my way from behind her sunglasses.
“Yes, in the water.”
“It’s cold in there.”
“I’m hot.”
“I’m not.”
“Come on.” I took her hand and pulled her to her feet.
“Whoa—”
“We need some exercise.”
“Hey,” Max greeted us all as he walked up.
“We’re going swimming,” I said to no one in particular.
“It looks that way,” Colton said on a laugh.
I tossed my cover-up onto the lounger, catching Max’s appreciative gaze as he took in my new swimsuit.
“Hi, Layla,” he said.
“Hi.” I gave him the shortest possible answer, then I headed for the pool, Brooklyn in tow.
“What is wrong with you?” she asked.
I sat down on the edge and dangled my feet in the water. It did feel cold, but I wasn’t about to let that stop me. I slipped into the shallow end, the water coming to my waist.
“We need to talk,” I said.
“We can’t do that on dry land?” But she came into the water with me.
My gaze drifted to Max for a second, and I found him staring.
I dunked down to my neck to cover up a little.
“You’re stuck to Colton like glue,” I said.
“He’s worth sticking to.”
“James,” I said. “Remember James.”
Brooklyn’s expression sobered. “I do.”
I pushed backward, partly to get into the deeper water and partly to get farther away from Colton and Max. My body was starting to get used to the water temperature, and it felt rather good.
“You need to look at the big picture,” I said.
“I’m looking at the long picture, the rest-of-my-life long picture.”
“You only just met this guy.” I had to admit, Colton didn’t seem awful.
He hadn’t done anything to justify my dislike of him. I hated what he was doing, but I didn’t hate who he was. He was likely a decent guy, but Brooklyn was taken. She and James had a history and plans and a deep, abiding respect.
“I told you how I feel,” she said, looking disappointed in me.
I felt a sliver of guilt. How she felt was wrong, but I couldn’t figure out how to make her see that.
I moved a little closer to her. “I’m afraid you’ll wake up one morning and realize this has all been a fantasy. This—” I gestured around the lavish pool deck and the hotel behind us “—isn’t real. It’s Vegas, for goodness sake.”
“My feelings have nothing to do with Vegas.”
I didn’t believe her. But my wandering gaze landed on Max again. A man in a business suit had stopped by their loungers to talk.
“Exactly how often do they stay here?” I asked Brooklyn.
“Colton?” Brooklyn said.
“And Max. I’m assuming they must work together. They seem to know everyone.”
“Everyone here?” she asked.
“Yes, here.” Where else would I mean?
“I think they know most of the staff. They think it’s important to pay attention to the people.”
She had me confused. Max and Colton paid attention to the staff members of a hotel where they did business?
“Why?” I asked.
“Why what?”
“Why would they make such a big deal about getting to know the hotel staff?”
“It’s good management.”
“What do they manage?”
Brooklyn’s brow furrowed in a way that told me I was talking nonsense.
“The hotel,” she said.
Reality dawned on me. It had been staring me in the face. My attention shot back to Max. “They manage the hotel? This hotel?”
“They own this hotel. And they own the Archway Hotel. Well, their family does. And about eight others across the country.”
I blinked. Then I blinked again. “Wait...what?”
“Why did you think your room rate was so low?”
“I don’t know. Max said it was a corporate thing.”
“It is a corporate thing. In this case, it’s a family corporate thing.”
I felt like a fool. Who gave out a rate more than ninety percent off? Nobody, that was who.
Then I thought about James. How was James going to compete with this? He had a good job. And as far as I knew he’d made some decent investments. He was well on his way, but he wasn’t a multimillionaire, or a billionaire, or whatever it was that Colton was.
James couldn’t offer Brooklyn free, unlimited room service, spa privileges or clothes-shopping sprees in iconic cities around the country. I didn’t think Brooklyn was a gold digger—far from it. She had an authentic system of values that she lived by.
Still...
I took another moment to look around.
This was pretty heady stuff.
“I’m not interested in Colton’s money,” Brooklyn said, sounding annoyed.
“I didn’t say—”
“I can see what you’re thinking.”
“That’s not what I’m thinking.”
“Then what are you thinking?”
I struggled to mentally compose a response.
“If you’re editing your words, you’re not being honest,” Brooklyn said.
She was right. I owed it to her and to James to be bluntly honest. “You’re breaking my brother’s heart.”
She looked like she might tear up. “I’m going to break his heart either way.”
“Not if you change your mind.”
If she would only come to her senses, we could fix this, it could all go away, and she and James would be happy, like they were meant to be.
“I won’t change my mind,” she said.
“You don’t know that. That’s the thing about changing your mind, you think something new. You think something different than you think right now, even if you’re not expecting it. That’s why they call it change.”
She gave a sad shake of her head.
I took her hands in mine. “At least try. For me. Please. At least try.”
“Okay,” she said. “I won’t get locked into a decision. I’ll think about it a bit more.”
“Good.” I felt way better. At least this was the first step.
* * *
I woke up suddenly at 7:00 a.m., sitting bolt upright in my bed.
Worry over Brooklyn had kept me tossing and turning last night. Plus, the worry had been interspersed with guilt.
I’d never slept with a man and not talked it over with Brooklyn—often before, always after. And t
here was one time when she’d texted me during the kissing.
It was before our clothes came off, so technically not during sex. But I had answered the text to tell her the date was going well. That was true friendship.
And now, when my sex life impacted her most, I wasn’t even sharing. The guilt sucked. But what had me throwing back the covers this morning was fear.
Max could have talked to Colton last night. He might have talked about him and me. He might have told Colton he’d had a one-night stand with Brooklyn’s best friend, Layla. It would be a logical thing to do. It was certainly an interesting twist to the situation. It would be weird if Max hadn’t mentioned it to Colton.
And if Max had told Colton, then it followed that Colton would tell Brooklyn. Then Brooklyn would know I lied, or omitted, or whatever you technically called it when a friend kept a highly significant piece of information from another friend.
The first friend should feel terrible, and the second friend would be furious. And the first friend had better come up with a rational and sincere apology.
And I would.
But first I had to find out everything Max had told Colton.
My phone rang and I grabbed for it. It was a long shot, but I hoped it was Max.
It was James.
I shifted my weight back onto the bed and reluctantly answered.
“Hi, James.”
“You need to shut this down.” His words were a punch to my stomach.
I had no idea how he knew what was going on. My first fear was that I had somehow given away Brooklyn’s secret.
“Uh...” I struggled to come up with a response.
“I know how much you love hanging out with Brooklyn.”
“I do.” My heart rate steadied just a little bit, and I told myself to breathe.
“But I need her back. I need her back now, Layla. So whatever fun you two have cooked up there in Vegas, it has to stop.”
“We will be back,” I said.
“When?”
“Soon. Really soon. Just a few more...” I wanted to say hours, but I feared it could be days.
“It’s irresponsible,” he said, sounding annoyed.
“I’ve met a guy,” I blurted out. It was the first excuse that popped into my mind. “And, well... I just need a bit of time.”
“And Brooklyn to hold your hand?” James didn’t sound any happier about that.
The Twin Switch (Millionaires Legacy Book 13; Gambling Men) Page 8
