“Take lots of pictures and videos and tell me all the crazy things you see.”
“I will,” she promises. “Eight days.”
“Eight days,” I repeat on a sigh. “I love you.”
“I love you.”
When she hangs up, I hold the phone to my ear a while longer, heart heavy and aching with the need to hold her, see her, be with her. I finally set my phone down on the bar, signaling to the bartender to pour me another IPA as I polish off the last of the one in front of me.
It’s been a long time since I’ve gone to a bar by myself — let alone on a Monday night. But with the Alpha Sigma bonfire behind me and the semester winding down as the brothers focus on holidays and finals, I’m in a pensive move.
And I’m lonely.
I miss my own brothers, miss how busy it always was this time of year back at Palm South. I miss having a purpose as president, and though I thought this position would fill that need, the simple fact is that it just doesn’t.
I’m not in a fraternity anymore.
I’m not in college anymore.
Lost is the sad term that keeps coming to mind, and as the bartender slides a fresh beer in front of me, I sigh, drinking down the feelings that come with that admission.
My eyes find one of the big screens hanging above the bottles on the back wall, watching as the Cowboys and Steelers take the field. At least I have football to distract me.
“This seat taken?”
I blink, frowning at first when I turn to find Chandler beside me. But then a surprised smile curls on my lips. “Looks like it is now. What are you doing here?”
“Same as you, I’d imagine,” she says with a sigh, propping her hands on the bar to help her up until she plops down onto the barstool next to me. “Drinking away Monday.”
I laugh. “What are you having? I’ve got a tab open.”
“What’s that?” she asks, nodding to my glass.
“IPA.”
“Perfect.”
I get the bartender’s attention, and once Chandler has a cold beer in front of her and has shrugged off her jacket and scarf, we clink our glasses together and take a long chug.
“Ah,” she says, smacking her lips. “That’s exactly what I needed.” Her eyes find the television, and she wrinkles her nose. “Ugh. Football.”
“Not a fan, I take it?”
“Not after growing up with a dad and three brothers who were obsessed with it, no.” She shakes her head. “Constant screaming on Sundays, I tell you. No peace.”
I laugh. “Three brothers? Your poor boyfriends.”
“Very few made it past the meet the family stage,” she says. “And as you can tell by my glorious single state of being now, no one lasts long after.”
I smirk, not allowing myself the opportunity to take in her appearance any lower than her eyes. She knows as well as I do that she’s a very attractive woman — unique, edgy, with a rack that you can see from outer space. “I doubt you stay single long. Unless you want to, that is.”
She shrugs. “I don’t know what I want.”
“What a loaded statement,” I say with a sigh of my own. “I’ve been feeling the same, actually.”
Chandler takes a long drink. “Trouble in paradise?”
I frown, not understanding until I meet her gaze and then piece together that she thinks I mean Cassie.
“Oh, God no,” I say quickly. “Cassie is the only thing right in my life.” I pause. “Honestly, it’s been that way for a while, I think.”
“I don’t know, it looks like you’ve done a lot of good here. My girls can’t stop talking about Alpha Sigma’s transformation.” She does a little move with her hands to illustrate the word, her voice going up a pitch.
I chuckle. “And I’m happy for them. It’s been fun, it’s just…”
“Not what you thought it would be.”
“Not at all,” I admit.
“You thought it would be like college 2.0, that you would get the same satisfaction as a Field Executive that you did as president.”
“You’re too good at this.”
She smiles. “I know the feeling is all. It’s not the same when you’re not an active member. It makes you feel old, like an outsider. And fuck, it’s lonely.”
I nod in agreement. “I think I’m done after this year.”
“They’ll be sad to lose you.”
“Maybe. But the bigger issue is that I have no idea what I want to do next, only that it has to be in Baltimore.”
Chandler nearly chokes on her next sip of beer at that. “Jesus Christ, why Baltimore of all places?”
“That’s where Cassie will be going to med school.” I meet her gaze. “Johns Hopkins.”
Chandler’s brows shoot into her hairline. “Wow. Gorgeous and smart as hell… it’s just not fair. Some girls get all the fun.”
I smile. “She’s had to work her ass off for it.”
“I don’t doubt it.” Chandler taps the bar for a moment, watching me like she wants to say something. But she keeps biting her lip, her cheek, looking away just to look back again.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing, it’s just…” She shakes her head. “This is crazy, and I doubt you’d be interested but…” She stops. “Never mind.”
“Chandler,” I say, arching a brow to let her know I don’t like playing these games.
“Okay, okay,” she says, turning to face me more. “It’s just… what a small fucking world. I’m from Baltimore.”
I blanch. “You are?”
“I am. My whole family is. That whole football hate I was talking about earlier? Try being in a house full of Ravens fans.”
I chuckle.
“Anyway, my dad’s parents own a pretty big company based in Baltimore… Simmons Snacks.”
It was my turn to choke on my beer. “Simmons Snacks? As in the potato chip company?”
“Potato chips, popcorn, salsa and queso, cookies, crackers…” She nods. “Yep.”
I gape at her. “What the fuck, Chandler. You never told me you were the granddaughter of some of the wealthiest people in the world.”
“It’s not my wealth,” she says quickly. “Anyway, they’ve been hounding me for about a month now to come work for them. They’re in desperate need of someone to head their Public Relations and Events team.” She pauses. “In Baltimore.”
My ears heat.
“I have no interest,” she adds quickly. “And they know that. They’ve wanted me to work for the family business since I was born, but I just… I don’t want anything to do with it. Not because it isn’t a great company,” she clarifies. “Because it is. I just want to make a name for myself outside of it.” She pauses. “Also, I don’t want to live in Baltimore.”
I laugh at that. “So, why are you telling me this?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” She shrugs. “What if you lead their team?”
I blink.
“Don’t look so surprised,” she says with a smile. “You’d be great at it. I mean, that’s essentially what you’re doing here, what you did all through college — public relations and events. You’d get to do what you love professionally, outside of a fraternity organization. For a company you know and love. In the city where your girlfriend is.” She cocks a brow. “Did I lose you?”
“I’m just trying to decide if you’re a figment of my imagination,” I say, playfully swinging at the air around her like she’s a ghost.
She chuckles and swats my hand down. “Look. Come home to Baltimore with me for Thanksgiving. They’re stubborn, but I know once my PopPop meets you, he’ll jump at the opportunity to hire you. He probably won’t wait for you to finish out your job as Field Executive,” she adds with a cringe. “But as long as you’re not opposed to leaving before Spring semester…”
“I’m not. I mean, that’s when Cassie is going, so… it’d be perfect.”
“Well, there you have it.”
My smile is so big it nearly breaks my face.
“I don’t know what to say, Chandler.”
“Well, it’s not done yet. But you can start with a thank you.”
“Thank you,” I say hurriedly, but then my stomach sinks to my shoes. “Wait… fuck. Cassie is coming here for Thanksgiving.”
Chandler frowns. “Can she come out a different time?”
“It’s her last semester at PSU, and she’s in a sorority. You know how that goes.”
“I do.” Chandler’s mouth tugs to the side as she thinks. “I mean, I could try to talk my grandparents into coming out here to visit, but their schedule is so crazy… we’re lucky to pull them away even for a single day for things like Thanksgiving and Christmas.”
“Do you think they’d meet with me over the phone?”
“Possibly, but I’ll be honest… PopPop doesn’t sway lightly. I think charming him in person would be your best bet.”
I curse again.
“Look, I know it would suck to call off the trip for Cassie to come, but on the heels of that disappointment would come the best news ever — that you both get to be in the same city again. You could live together.” Chandler reaches over to squeeze my wrist. “A little sacrifice now could pay off in a big way later.”
I nod. “Or Cassie could castrate me and break up with me for good measure.”
“You really think she’d do that?”
I sigh. “No. But I don’t want to tell her about this, just in case it doesn’t happen. She’ll get her hopes up and then… if I don’t get the job…”
“You’ll get the job,” Chandler says quickly. “But whether you want to tell her about the meeting or not is up to you. For now, I’m going to tell my mom to have another setting at the table for dinner. And you need to figure out what to tell Cassie.”
I frown, nodding. Then, I turn to face her. “What’s in this for you?”
“Well, one, they’ll get off my back about the damn job,” she says. “Two, I’ll have a friend to hang out with over the holidays instead of my insufferable brothers. And three?” She shrugs. “I think we’ve got a pretty good track record of helping each other out. I don’t want to break it.”
I smile. “Friends, huh? I didn’t think I’d find one of those out here.”
“That makes two of us. Now,” she says, downing the last of her beer and holding the empty glass up to the bartender. “Let’s get another round and you start taking notes. I’m going to tell you every single way to woo my grandfather.”
I grin, chugging the last of mine to match her, and once we have new beers, we get to work.
The fire burning in my belly is unmatched, fueled by the thought that this might be it, this might be how I can do what I love but not be away from Cassie any longer.
No more long distance.
No more video chat dates or texts or calls.
Just me and her, in the same city, the same house, potentially.
My pulse races at the thought, at the surprised look on Cassie’s face should I be able to land the job. It’d be the best Christmas gift I could ever give her — the news that we’d both be in Baltimore come spring.
So, with that as my motivation, I took detailed notes, and by the time we asked for the check, we were booking me a flight to Baltimore.
“YOU LOOK ABSOLUTELY RADIANT, Miss Daniels,” Riel says, tucking a beautiful fuchsia flower into the crown she’s been weaving into my hair. The electric blue water of St. John can be seen out of every window of Brandon’s yacht, and it reflects off Riel’s dark eyes as she puts the final touches on my updo.
She pulls back with a smile, clapping her hands together. “All done.”
With her hands on my arms, Riel gently turns me to look in the full-length mirror in my cabin.
And I gasp.
I did my own makeup, wanting to be sure I still looked like me for such a special day, but I chose not to look in the mirror after I slipped my dress on, nor did I sneak a glance as Riel did my hair.
And now here it is, all at once.
Me, in a delicate, flowy, A-line wedding dress — the straps delicate around my collarbone, waist cinched, elaborate beading covering the bust and a weightless, silky, long skirt with four deep slits all the way to my upper thigh. I know with just a little turn that those slits will allow the fabric to flow all around me in the Caribbean wind.
My hair is woven into a thick braid, the most colorful flower crown playing with the warm pinks and oranges of my eyeshadow and bringing out the gold in my hazel eyes. Brilliant Swarovski crystals cover the straps of my high heels, highlighting my immaculate pedicure.
I touch my neck, the simple diamond hanging on the end of a slim gold chain.
And that makes me look at my ring finger — the one about to be covered with the perfect engagement ring Brandon picked out for me.
And a wedding band, too.
My eyes well, and I turn back around to wrap Riel in a hug. “Thank you,” I whisper.
We met Riel when we first arrived in St. John, and she’s been our wedding planner of sorts, helping us find everything we desired for our ceremony — which wasn’t much, but what we did want, Brandon wanted top of the line.
She’s been a saving grace to me, helping me with flowers, choosing a photographer, decorating the bow of the yacht, and ensuring we have the best local chef onboard for our wedding night dinner.
“One last thing,” I tell her, turning around to face the mirror again. “Help me get this off.”
I’m already fidgeting with the straps of my arm sling when Riel stops me. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Riel, I am not wearing this monstrosity while I get married. I refuse.”
I sigh when I see the worried look on her face.
“I’ll put it on as soon as the vows are exchanged and that man gives me the kiss of my life, okay? Just… please. Don’t make me wear this out there.”
Riel smiles softly, and with a nod, she does as I ask.
When the arm brace is off, I chuckle a little at how that arm is slightly paler than my other, but nevertheless, I feel one-hundred times lighter.
I let myself take in the whole image one last time before my eyes wander to the bits of Cruz Bay I can see off in the distance through the magnificent windows in my cabin. The lush green mountains stretch up over the cerulean blue water, sailboats and yachts peppering the shoreline, and my heart leaps into my throat as I realize where I am.
Realize what I’m doing.
I close my eyes on a smile, thinking of how many times I’ve played through what this day would be like. From the time I was a little girl, I’ve dreamed of what I’d wear, the kind of cake I’d have, the party…
And now, it’s just me and the man I love on an island far, far away.
It couldn’t be more perfect.
“Okay,” I breathe, opening my eyes and taking a long, slow breath. “I’m ready.”
Riel nods, leading the way for me out of my cabin and carefully down the stairs to the main deck. She hides me in the back of the parlor, curtains pulled over the usually open airway that leads out to the bow. I haven’t seen the decorations come all together yet, haven’t seen the lilies and roses and baby’s breath wreaths or arch that match my bouquet. I haven’t seen the freshly polished teak deck, or the fairy lights hung in a zig zag fashion over the bow.
And I haven’t seen my groom — not since dinner last night.
It was torture for both of us to sleep in separate cabins, but it was the one thing I wanted to keep old-fashioned.
And when Riel comes back in through the parlor bar entry, nodding to let me know that everything is ready, I step up to stand right at the edge of the curtain as two of Riel’s friends pull open opposite ends of it back in sync.
And I see him.
And he sees me.
And all the wait, all the time apart was worth it.
I wish I can say I hear the music playing — the sweet, soft sounds of a violin from the musician we hired our first day on the island. I w
ish I could hear her playing our song, “Unchained Melody,” as I slowly drift across the teak toward where Brandon waits for me at the bow. I wish I could take in the golden rays of sun on the island, the shockingly blue water, the waves softly lapping at the sides of the boat, the flowers and the lights and everything we’d set up for this very occasion.
But I can’t see, can’t hear, can’t feel anything or anyone else but Brandon Church.
He stands tall and regal as ever at the bow, his cream suit casual yet sophisticated, highlighted by the Carolina blue dress shirt underneath. Diamond studs glisten in each earlobe, his hair in a neat, styled fade, facial hair trimmed to perfection. Every inch of the outfit is tapered to fit him, hugging and hanging off all the right places.
I take my time letting my eyes wander the length of him, feeling the pulse of his heartbeat even with the distance still between us. It’s an energy, I realize — one I’ve been in tune with since the moment he stepped onto the same elevator with me at Okay, Cool.
When my eyes finally crawl up to meet his, he lets out a slow, steady breath. His jaw tightens, nose flares, and he shakes his head once, twice, before he tears his eyes away from me and bows his head down.
He pinches the bridge of his nose, one shake of his shoulders telling me he was moved to tears before he finds the strength to stand tall again.
And those warm brown eyes glistening in the sun, those slender wet streaks staining his cheeks, those lips rolling together as he tries to fight back his emotion — they’re what undo me.
My own eyes water, and a single tear slips free before I can even think to stop it.
I don’t make it all the way to him before he’s meeting me halfway, pulling me into him for a soul-shattering, life-altering, you’re mine forever kiss.
His lips are warm and commanding, his hands wrapping around the beaded bodice of my dress, and he still shakes with emotion as he holds me tighter and tighter.
When we finally pull away, our foreheads pressed together, I chuckle. “I think you were supposed to wait until the end to do that.”
“I couldn’t.”
I smile, pulling back to look him in the eyes, and he shakes his head, his gaze one of absolute reverence.
Greek: A New Adult College Romance (Palm South University Book 7) Page 19
