Remarkably, he had slept through the entire flight. An inkling told him that the newly signed sales contract had something to do with that—and, perhaps, the fact that he had something—or someone—to look forward to seeing soon.
He exited the plane and searched out a restroom before heading for a place to grab some coffee. As he waited in line, he switched his phone on and watched it light up with texts like a gambling machine in Vegas. He frowned. He’d received two texts from Jackson asking when he would be back in town and a handful from EduCenter.
A new message popped onto his screen from Jackson:
* * *
Emergency issue at board meeting tonight. If you are available, have a question.
* * *
He grabbed his cappuccino, instantly wishing he had ordered two shots, and headed for the baggage area. His driver met him there and took his bag from him. He had traveled often enough to learn the art of traveling light. No checked bags for him.
He headed for the inn before going home, still buoyed by the caffeine and solid sleep he’d managed to get on the plane. He hoped this energy would last long into the night. Despite his wealth, the idea of spending such ludicrous prices for a seat on an airplane still made him bristle. But then again, would he have been this rested in coach?
An hour and a half later, Wade strolled into the inn, hoping to catch Jackson before his meeting began. He stifled a yawn, eager to continue moving forward as if he hadn’t just flown across the country. He and Jackson had traded a couple of texts on the drive, but they were too brief to solve the issue at hand. As he turned the corner, he nearly ran into Priscilla.
“You’re ... home,” she said, her eyes bright.
He smiled at her. “Landed an hour ago and drove straight here.”
She tilted her head the way he had begun to recognize. “Darling, do you ever sleep?”
“As a matter of fact, I caught some winks on the plane. How about you?”
“Do I ever ... sleep?”
Her question sizzled in his mind, taking him down roads he wasn’t sure he should attempt to roam just yet. He measured his response, his tongue making a quick swipe across his bottom lip. “I meant, how are you? Are you off work now?”
She brushed a tendril aside with a swipe of her hand. “Yes, my shift just ended, and phew, it was a long one.”
His gaze took her in—auburn hair cascading down her shoulders, eyes that sparkled, lips that tempted him ... Pull yourself together, man. “You look like you weathered it beautifully.”
A voice from behind caught their attention. “Wade?”
He turned. Sophia had come up behind him, her smile tentative. He hadn’t seen her in—how long?—since the wedding, probably.
“Sophia,” he said. “I heard you were traveling.”
“Yes, but it is good to be home. Hello, Priscilla.”
Everything about her shouted contentment. She always did have a serene quality to her. At times he began to believe that her calm demeanor had been what had drawn him to her in the first place.
The three of them stood awkwardly in the hall, Wade sensing the urgency of Jackson’s call. Did Sophia know what it was about? Or would it be news to her? He knew better than to divulge anything without knowing the answer to those questions. At the same time, he longed to spend time with Priscilla, to know how her week went. How had she spent it? Did her time with Amber go well?
Between the myriad questions and the sudden onset of travel fatigue—something he thought he had skillfully avoided—Wade experienced an uncharacteristic loss for words.
“Will you be joining our meeting this evening?” Sophia asked him.
The meeting. Yes. That’s why he was there. His eyes felt jumpy. “Yes,” he said. “I’m on my way there now.”
“Wonderful. Can we walk together?”
He nodded and made a move forward. Then stopped, and pivoted, remembering Priscilla. “We weren’t finished talking,” he began.
Priscilla’s bright smile told him she hadn’t noticed his carelessness. “You go on ahead. I was heading home anyway.” She paused, that smile unwavering. “Time to step out of these heels.”
Don’t tempt me, woman ...
“I’ll call you,” he said, almost completely flummoxed. Hurriedly, he bent and kissed her cheek. Then he watched her walk away.
When he turned around again, Sophia was waiting for him. She gave him a kind smile and they made their way down the hall and around the corner to the meeting room where Jackson and several advisors looked to be in a heated conversation.
An hour later, his mind and body spent, Wade retrieved his bags from the bell desk and strode out of the lobby doors. The valet on duty hailed him a cab, and he collapsed inside. After he’d given the driver his address, he relaxed back against the vinyl seat, his thoughts colliding together into one cohesive memory.
Running into Sophia before the meeting had startled him. Was it because he hadn’t expected to see her? Or because he was simply tired.
He released a heavy sigh, eliciting a sideways glance from his driver.
Wade was no longer in love with Sophia—that, he knew. But he had loved her once, and a man does not forget a thing like that. Especially when, unlike other men, he did not find himself in love often.
Maybe, though, Wade had not been one-hundred-percent honest with himself regarding Sophia’s wedding. He had been a bear that day, his thoughts dark and unyielding. He had since attributed his sour mood to the news he had received that very morning, news about EduCenter’s sudden loss of funding.
But maybe more than that was in play that day. Perhaps his ego felt a little too much on display, his emotions so entangled in the past that they had become cinched in a knot. He hadn’t needed to attend Sophia and Christian’s wedding. Certainly, no one would have faulted him for skipping it altogether.
Wade glanced out the window, the passing lights a blur. In the end, he had wanted to be the better man that day. Not better than anyone in attendance, but the utmost best version of himself. To his folly, perhaps. His sister had often suggested, tongue-in-cheek she’d said, that his wealth was a result of more than his business acumen. She said he would rather deal with contracts and business propositions than matters of the heart.
Perhaps she had something there.
His mind drifted back to Priscilla. Not the beautiful woman he had seen tonight, but the one he met at the wedding. Her verve had attracted him, had even reminded him of himself when running with an idea that he was passionate about.
But she had thrown him off too. She was bold, penetrating, her unwavering gaze exposing him. The kind of thing that he would not allow—under any circumstances—when he was negotiating in business. Maybe he had sensed her crossing the line he had made where his heart was concerned and reacted by pushing back.
He pressed his forehead into his hand, trying to make sense of his thoughts. Had he been so guarded that he had nearly missed the opportunity that Priscilla now represented? He shook his head. She had offered him a pass tonight. When Sophia had come upon them and he had become disoriented, her smile had assured him.
Then why did a niggling in his gut cause him to question that assurance now?
The driver made a right turn down his street. As he pulled through the gated entry of his driveway, Wade unbuckled his seat belt, grabbed his bags, and headed into his home.
Earlier this evening, Priscilla had locked up the spa and slipped into the hallway of the inn, thankful for another day in the books. She’d had plans—big plans for the rest of the night. First, she would slip out of her heels, then she’d put on her silky loungewear, pour herself a glass of Chianti, and flop open the novel about the mountains of Tuscany that she’d been reading in fits and starts all week.
Instead, she dragged herself into her condo, listless. She tossed her keys into a tray by the door, plunked herself down onto the love seat, and began flicking through channels on her remote control. In the past hour, she had watched o
ne-third of three different streaming shows, none able to keep her interest.
Priscilla inhaled and slowly let out a breath, the image of Wade’s reaction to Sophia pulsating in her brain. She licked her top teeth and shut her eyes, trying to think about something—anything—else.
But her eyes opened again and she was back where she’d started.
Priscilla stood abruptly. She wandered into the kitchen, opened the fridge, and stared into it. Nothing suited her, but basic biology told her that too many hours without nourishment would not help her make better choices in the night ahead.
She grabbed a yogurt and slammed the fridge door shut.
On the couch again, she stirred her yogurt and took a bite. Was it peach? Or blood orange? She swallowed another bite, still undecided. One thing she wasn’t confused about: Wade had seemed flustered. She supposed that running into one’s ex for the first time since she had married the other guy might have something to do with that. But Priscilla had stood beside him and waited. Patiently.
What had she expected? For him to wrap his arms around her and tell Sophia that, sorry, but he was very busy?
Well. Sort of, she did.
Instead, he nearly left her mid-conversation without saying goodbye. By some miracle—and what seemed like an afterthought to her—he suddenly seemed to remember that she was standing behind him. She took another bite of yogurt, uncomfortable in her own head space. Something about this entire line of thought felt dangerously self-defeating.
She put the container of half-eaten yogurt on her coffee table and fluffed her hair with her fingers. Then she twisted her hair into a coil and pulled it around her left shoulder so she could lie down on the couch comfortably.
No matter what she did to try to forget the whole thing, it weighed on her mind like a hot compress. Leo had been like that, though she hadn’t been as hyper aware of it at the time. Or maybe she had been in denial. He’d often become so absorbed in conversation with someone—especially when it revolved around sports—that he’d forget her presence. Once, he left a sports bar without her. She had been in a booth, sipping wine and reading a book.
Her cab ride home that night had cost more than her high-end glass of wine.
Abruptly, she sat up. Wade had called her on the way out of town last week, saying he wanted to take her to dinner. Had he even mentioned that tonight?
She let out a groan and stood. This was not like her. Not one bit like her! She walked into the kitchen and tossed the yogurt container into the garbage.
Priscilla had learned the hard way that a man’s promise could be easily broken. Especially if he was discontented. Was Wade discontent with his life? Could he ever find happiness with a woman ... with her? A dark and desperate thought occurred to her. Even though Sophia had happily moved on, Wade could very well still be in love with her.
Did she want to date a man who might be carrying a torch for someone else?
She rolled over onto her back and stared at the ceiling. Priscilla had wanted to tell Wade about her thoughts on becoming a foster parent to Amber and to get his reaction. His advice, even. A prickle of a tear forced its way down her cheek and she let it ride. If they had spent any time together tonight, she would have told him and asked for his input—probably even his recommendation to the county too.
Priscilla bit her lip and gave her head a tight shake. She didn’t want to overreact, like a high schooler might. But then again, had she not seen red flags more than once where Wade was concerned? She blew out a long, exhausted sigh. Then she closed her eyes and went to sleep.
She’d slept all night in her clothes from the day before, curled into a ball on the living room sofa. The effect this morning was not unlike a hangover—she felt unrested and annoyed with herself. Streaks of light warmed her upper arm, and she sat up, chagrined but not unforgiving.
Fuming last night had gotten her nowhere, evidenced by the shooting pain in her neck from sleeping on it wrong. When Leo had left her, she traveled through the stages of grief: denial, anger, and bargaining. But when she’d reached the fourth stage—depression—she said, “Enough!” and moved straight to acceptance.
The loss of her husband’s love pained her more than she could ever explain. But if Leo no longer wanted to be married to her, nothing she could say or do would change that. She had learned, though, that she could have plenty of say in the care of her heart, her soul, and her mind.
So she’d laid it all out to God like a prayer. And he had answered her in myriad ways. Why in the world would she think he’d stop now?
She stretched her limbs, drawing oxygen into her kinked muscles. In the minutes since she had awakened, the sun moved from slivers to wide beams of golden light. She had agreed to the evening shift at the spa, which meant her day was free for some self-care.
Quickly, Priscilla made herself some coffee, nibbled a bagel, and slipped into a swimsuit. Then she stepped out the front door, adventure buoying her mood.
A half hour later, her toes dug into the sand as she waited to rent a wetsuit and a SUP. She missed Amber, but they’d had so much fun that she couldn’t think of a better way to spend her morning off.
As she waited for her board, she sent Amber a text:
* * *
Priscilla: Had so much fun with you last week, that I’m renting a board again. Wish me luck!
Amber: Aw! Jelly! When’re you coming out here again?
* * *
Priscilla sighed. She hoped to drive out to the center soon. She had planned to talk to Wade about bigger needs that may be forming there but laid that thought aside. Besides, if her plans came to fruition, she and the teen would have many more opportunities to spend time together. Priscilla glanced out to sea, where flickers of light bobbed on the water. Guilt tugged at her heart. Should she have gone to the center today?
“Good to see you again!” Brett said. “No wahine with you?”
She smiled at the moniker the man had used for Amber, another tug on her heart at the absence of the girl. “Unfortunately, it’s only me today. I’ll bring her back sometime soon, though.”
He nodded and flashed her a smile. “It’s a good day, but be careful out there. Sun brings out the risk takers. Should be wide open, since it’s morning, but keep a keen eye over your shoulder so you stay safe.”
“Mahalo,” she said, taking the paddle from him.
She watched as another newbie attempted to mount her board from the dock only to send up a shout and land with a splash in the murky channel water. No, thank you, she thought, and instead, headed for the man-made beach where she and Amber had launched from the previous week.
As she’d been taught, Priscilla waded into the water, careful not to scrape the fin of her board on the sandy floor of the sea. Once safely out, she launched herself onto the grip pad, knees first, and carefully stood. She held the paddle for balance, slowly lowering it into the water on her right side. She gave it a swish, then switched to the left, straightening out her direction.
Up ahead the last of the morning’s thin cloud bank began to dissipate. She paddled forward, slowly, evenly, breathing in deeply with each stroke. Shoulders upright, back straight. A flying fish made an arc over the front tip of her board and she reacted with a squeal. Out in the water like this made her feel ... young. Free. Small, too. Not in a bad way, but in the scheme of life. The water stretched farther than she could fathom, and when she thought about that, she realized that her problems, aka her uncertainty regarding Wade, and love relationships in general, were a mere drop. Not unimportant—but not unsurmountable either.
She continued to paddle, the soft bounce of water creating a rhythm beneath her feet. Three large black cormorants stood on the dock to her left, wings outstretched. Pricilla had been teased mercilessly when she’d first come out here after reading CJ Capra’s novel about a mermaid. She didn’t care. Christian’s whimsical fantasy had caught the eye of readers far and wide—including her. What she loved about it too, were the seagoing references. She
’d learned some things while feasting on his best-selling novel, and she’d come away feeling smarter somehow.
She glanced again at those three stoic birds, their sleek black wings still widespread. She’d read that cormorant wings had less preen oil than other birds, so they absorbed water. Hence, the routine of drying out their wings in the sun.
If she were to try that, her arms would be weighed down by fatigue. She laughed and made a mental note to press some weights in the gym on her days off.
Priscilla continued to paddle out toward the harbor mouth, aware of her lack of a safety net. How could one moment hold both promise and panic? If she were to fall ... she dared not think about it.
But if she were to fall out here by herself? She would do what she always did—she’d force away the tears and pull herself out of the pit, salt water and all.
Priscilla returned her rented SUP, showered off near the parking lot, and pulled a baby blue cover-up over her swimsuit. Remnants of salt and coconut oil still reached her senses. In her car again, she started it up, plugged in her phone, and opened the sunroof to allow fresh air to billow in. A flurry of texts pinged her phone and she snapped a peek at the screen, hoping nothing urgent messed with the blissful peace that had settled on her. The first one was from Wade:
* * *
Wade: Good morning. Call me when you’re up.
And …
Trace: There’s a surprise for you at the inn. A big one. Coming in soon?
Trace: p.s. Some serious testosterone in the lobby for you.
* * *
Priscilla bit back a smile, something her morning excursion had put back into her life. She would have to be careful where Wade was concerned, especially after allowing her heart to be exposed to him as freely as she had. But there was no harm in talking to him, in letting him say what he wanted to say to her. A night’s sleep and morning on the water had brought her to that conclusion.
Beneath a Billion Stars Page 11
