GoTo Girl

by Haley Oliver

  "Great," I grind out through teeth steadfastly fixed shut. "Now I can hate you on dry land."

  Chapter Ten

  Daniel

  Val isn't speaking to me.

  I guess that's to be expected when the two of you are hopelessly lost, and you're the reason she's soaking wet and miserable in the first place.

  "We have to find shelter!" I shout over the roaring wind. I grab for her hand, but she stubbornly pulls away from me. We're trekking down an unfamiliar stretch of beach, the rain and wind slanted against us, lashing at us, pelting our bare arms and every other exposed inch of skin. Warm rain isn't much pleasanter than cold.

  There's bound to be a search party when a billionaire goes missing. I may or may not have had a few organized on my behalf in the past... something my elder brothers are hard-pressed to ever let me forget. This recent debacle will leave Gabe fuming, and I can't help but feel wickedly pleased with myself. My thoughts inevitably turn to Henry, though, when I remember that I'm now a father, and my personal victory feels suddenly cold... and suddenly, completely, foolish. How could I have been so stupid and careless? I've dragged more than just myself and my petty vendetta against my family into this. There are other feelings at stake here.

  And those feelings I may have already jeopardized beyond repair.

  "I don't recognize this beach!" I call over to Valerie. "But we're bound to be close to... somewhere. It's Tahiti, after all. All we have to do is wait out this storm and... there!" This time when I grab her hand, I don't let her pull away. I point. Ahead of us, tucked behind a thick grove of palm trees on an overhanging cliff, I can barely make out the pointed peek of a roof. There's a wood staircase inset into the rock leading up the cliff face. A notice dangles on a chain across it, warning against trespassers; as we watch, another blast of wind unhooks it and sends it spiraling off into the forest.

  To me, that seems like a sign... or maybe a lack of one.

  Valerie lets me tow her along up the slick steps. I stabilize myself on the railing, and she does the same. The torrent is coming down even harder now. By the time we reach the top, we are completely bedraggled, barely recognizable as human.

  "Hey!" I run up to the doorstep of the estate and start pounding. Valerie shelters herself behind me, sticking close for warmth despite the fact that she's still obviously livid with me. She takes in the property as I continue shouting. "We're from the resort! We just need to use a phone!"

  "I don't think anybody's here," Valerie mentions. "Look, there's no car in the driveway. Doesn't this strike you as a vacation home?"

  Of course it does. I was just hoping the owners happened to be conveniently vacationing right now.

  "We're going to have to break in," I say.

  "What?" Valerie cries. She takes a step away from me and nearly backs out into the storm. I grab her and pull her back beneath the sheltering roof. It's instinct, and besides that, I don't intend to be the only one committing the crime. I pick up a rock decorating the porch, and...

  "Oh, look. A spare key." The rock is hollow, and made of plastic. I shake my head and let the Hide-a-Key box drop into my hand.

  "That is a terrible hiding place," Valerie mutters as I unlock the front door. "Completely obvious." I ease the door open, and her hand shoots out to catch my arm. "Wait! What if there's an alarm system?"

  "With any luck, it will bring the authorities to us sooner," I reply. "Ladies first."

  Valerie narrows her eyes, then steps cautiously into the foyer. I follow, spinning to close the door behind us.

  The estate is cavernous and quiet. Every step we risk further in, every drop of rain that rings out against the marble floor, echoes ominously. It's like we've trespassed into a tomb. A cursory glance into the next room reveals that all the furniture has been covered in sheets—the chairs, tables, couches all stand collected like ghosts. I can't shake the wild feeling that we've interrupted something, even though it's clear no one has been here for a while. Outside, the wind gives a high-pitched whistle and buffets the house. The trees rattle like sentinels shaking their fists in dismay at us intruders. I just hope none of them come down while we're here. We have enough problems already.

  "The good news is this isn't a hurricane," I mention as we wander through the front hall. "There are no hurricanes in the South Pacific. And... Val, you're shaking."

  "I'm f-f-fine," she protests between chattering teeth. She quickly clamps her jaw down.

  I draw her in against me without thinking. "Come on. I know. You're always freezing back at the office even in summer." I'm as soaked as she is, but we both know from our continuous battle over the sixth floor thermostat my default temperature runs pretty high. She doesn't pull away, but clings to me as we make our soggy way through lower rooms. "There's got to be a fireplace in this joint," I say. "A big one. No way this property doesn't have at least two."

  "I'm sure they're d-d-decorative," Valerie mentions. "We're in the tropics, after all."

  "But if these people live on the bluff, through weather like this... aha!" I welcome her into the back living room with a broad sweep of my arm. Minimal gray light filters through the cracks in the drawn curtains. I grope along the wall, find a light switch, and flip it on. The room is instantly bathed in illumination, and Valerie lets out a shuddering sigh of happiness. More couches cloaked in sheets surround a massive fireplace. She immediately goes to it as I look around some more.

  "We'll have to find something to light the pilot with," she mentions. "B-but you're right, it's more than decorative."

  "Wait right here," I command her.

  "Where are you...?"

  But I turn, and vanish back into the enormous house to start collecting what I need. Towels, blankets, matches or a lighter, what else... Doubtful that I'll find anything in the kitchen worth snacking on, but I decide to give it a more thorough exploration later. Right now, what's most important is getting Valerie warm.

  By the time I've returned, I'm surprised to find she already has the fire going. "I always knew you were magical," I mention. I toss down the heap of blankets I've pulled from one of the bedrooms upstairs, and present her with a towel.

  "There were matches on the mantle," she corrects me.

  "Convenient."

  "The matches, or my cover story?"

  I shake my head. Here I am, worrying about her survival, and now that the vulnerable little tremble has gone out of her voice she's back to her usual self. Or worse. I suspect that she's angrier at me than she's letting on, and with good reason, but that she's biding her time until she rips into me. I almost hope that she does. I deserve it. Besides, being kept at arm's length, or given the silent treatment... I'm not especially good at handling passive aggression.

  "Speaking of cover, get over here," I say finally. "Towel off."

  "Our clothes are soaking."

  "We've got a fire now, thanks to you. We'll set them out to dry."

  "What, like... take them off our bodies?" Valerie's eyes go round as I try not to roll mine.

  "Last I checked, our bodies were in very real danger of hypothermia."

  "We are s-so not!"

  "Valerie, trust me," I say. "I am not trying to talk you out of your clothes for any underhanded motive."

  She looks at me skeptically, and there's a sinful voice inside of me that finds absolutely no cause to blame her. Valerie approaches me, blushing, and snatches the offered towel.

  "Turn around," Valerie warns. "Don't look."

  I oblige her by rotating in place. Trying to remain light-hearted, I add, "You don't look, either."

  "Oh puh-leeze."

  "I saw the way you were posted up on that balcony like it was a spectator sport the other day," I tease.

  "I was looking out for Henry!" she grouses. I hear the rustle of clothing, and can't help grinning to myself. I peel off my adhering, freezing cold shorts, and quickly band the towel around my waist.

  "You don't trust me with my own son?"

  "I don't trust you
anymore, period!"

  "Fair enough." I try to keep my tone light, but I'm not so dense that I don't hear the seriousness in her voice. It cuts me like a knife that our relationship is even more strained than usual during this trip, and I don't have to look very far past my own reflection to find the culprit. I've acted unfairly toward her at every turn—allowing myself to flirt on the plane, treating her to a romantic torch-lit dinner, then dismissing her. Now this...

  "But I promise that I'll earn your trust back," I conclude. "Can I turn around now?"

  "Yes. I'm dressed. Or I guess what passes for it."

  Valerie has wrapped herself in a towel and pulled a blanket on over her. She looks adorable, and cozy, and I instantly copy her fashion statement. I grab up the nearest quilt and pull it over me, joining her by the fire. She holds her hand out, and I let her take my wet clothes and arrange them to dry beside her own.

  "Valerie, I'm sorry."

  "I know you are," she replies. After a long moment, she exhales and sits back. She stares into the fire and won't look at me. "But save you apologies for Henry when we get back."

  "I will, but this one's for you."

  She lifts one shoulder in a shrug. "I'm you're secretary," she replies. "You employ me. You don't have to apologize to me."

  A jolt of unexpected anger shoots through me, but it's not directed at her. I'm not sure where it's directed. "Don't do that," I say. "Don't be so dismissive all the time. Don't act like we aren't..."

  "Aren't what?" she interrupts. Her eyes, made gold by the fire, dart to me. "Aren't what, Daniel?

  "Like we aren't more," I reply.

  Valerie pillows her cheek in her hand. "You had no problem acting that way back at the beach."

  "Yeah, well I have no problem acting like a complete idiot most of the time," I remind her.

  She chuckles wryly. "You know, you seem like you're in a pretty good mood considering the circumstances."

  "I know how to make the most of my circumstances. I always have." I shift closer, and she draws her head back up in surprise. "You want to know the real reason I'm in such a good mood?"

  "Daniel..."

  I lift my hand to her to caress the side of one flickering, fire-kissed cheek. She doesn't pull away. She watches me like she can scarcely believe we're both locked in this moment. I know how she feels. I reach out to her, my fingers twisting a stray, damp strand of her hair into a curl.

  "It's because I finally have some time alone with you," I whisper.

  I lean in.

  Chapter Eleven

  Valerie

  The fire light flashes liquid across his lips. I stare at them as they close in, and I realize... I've fantasized about this. For the past three years, and ever-increasingly, I've imagined what Daniel's kiss would feel like. I always chalked it up to late-night, scattered thoughts. You always allow your mind to wander to places you know it shouldn't when you're on the cusp of sleep. I never allowed myself to think more about it, never allowed myself to examine it.

  Because it was crazy! It was unprofessional! It was unreciprocated!

  I close my eyes, and I forget how to breathe. In another moment, I won't need to. In another moment, Daniel...

  My eyes snap open. Daniel has leaned past me to grab the poker and prod at the fire. He withdraws, then turns back to me and grins, as if I'm meant to be impressed by the fact that he knows how to push a log.

  My face flames hotter than the fireplace. Thankfully, my scorched appearance goes with the territory at this point. I take the poker away from him, for no real reason at all. Our fingers brush as I do.

  "Afraid I'll poke an eye out?" he wonders. "You know, you really have taken on this whole nanny thing by the horns. I'm impressed."

  The minute he says nanny, my anxiety flares. I know that Jane and Amanda are taking excellent care of Henry. I just hope they are able to reassure him that everything is fine, that Daniel and I are merely waiting out the storm somewhere safe and sound.

  "Don't get used to it," I snap as I return the pointy implement to its holder. I'm just glad for the excuse to think about anything other than what had been on my mind seconds ago... something I dare not put a name to. "It's temporary. You'll need to find Henry a real nanny when we get back."

  "Henry loves you, you know."

  I say nothing. I let silence, and the truth of his statement, settle over us like another blanket whisked off the bed. I know what I want to confess, but I pinch my lips together and hold it back. Daniel watches me, and I think he understands. Darn him.

  He knows that I love Henry, too.

  "What happened to his mother?" I ask quietly. "Didn't you know about him these past years?"

  "No." A quiet answer in response, and I know it's a truthful one. Daniel has just confirmed what I suspected all along. He shifts closer to the fire, and mirrors my posture from before. He props his elbow up on the marble, and rests his cheek in his hand. He's never been as cleanly-shaven as his other brothers, but his darkening stubble now makes him look... older. Somehow less like the Daniel I've come to know, and more like the real man I've always expected (or rather, hoped) was behind the devil-may-care veneer. "I didn't know about Henry until several months ago."

  "His mother..."

  "... Heidi. Kept him a secret."

  I shift uncomfortably and cross my arms beneath the blanket. "I'm sorry." I surprise myself by blurting it out.

  Daniel shakes his head and smiles sadly. "You remind me a lot of her, in some ways. She was always fiercely independent. I was the billionaire, but Heidi, she... she didn't have that. She didn't come from money, but she didn't seem to care much for it either. I fell for her—hard." He chuckles at some memory I can't view for myself. I want to feel insulted, but I listen intently, trying to understand better. "And she left me. For my best friend at the time, Jeremy."

  "I'm so sorry."

  "It was just a case of my heart was all-in and hers wasn't."

  "But, your family met her?"

  He nods. "And they loved her. Well, everyone except Gabe loved her. I think it was probably Gabe's approval, or lack thereof, that I anticipated all along."

  "Why...?"

  Daniel waves a hand dismissively. "Gabe's got his own issues. He's always been hard on me... forced me to strive to be better... but..."

  I frown. Gabriel Sway sounds plain old bigoted, to me. I wonder how someone so serious could carry on so well with someone as free-spirited as Jane, who has been his secretary forever. What does Jane see in him? What keeps her coming back, if he really does look down on those around him?

  "Anyway. I didn't take it well. Kind of went off the deep end and took risks, fed my adrenaline addiction. I cut Jeremy and Heidi out of my life completely. I imagine she found out she was pregnant with Henry not long after. She... probably thought she was doing us both a favor by not telling me. I wasn't exactly mature back then." Daniel turns to gaze into the fire. "And, who knows, maybe she convinced herself that Henry was Jeremy's. Although, at this point, his resemblance to me can't be denied."

  "But, he was in foster care?" I question. "Henry mentioned foster parents. "

  "The state took over his care when she was killed."

  There they were, the words I had been expecting to hear all along. The tragedy of this family that never had a real chance to be a family laid bare. I follow Daniel's gaze into the fire. "How?"

  He jolts a little and looks at me. "Car accident."

  I shake my head. "Poor little guy."

  I realize that my hand had escaped the blanket and descended south. I realize that it's found his, and that neither of us have noticed. Either that, or Daniel has purposefully decided not to remark on it. I wonder if I should draw it back, but when my fingers move, his own twitch closed over them to keep them in place.

  "Henry spent over a year in foster care. If I had known sooner..." He lets out a ragged sigh.

  "How could you have? " I whisper as I lean in. "Daniel, you can't blame yourself."

&n
bsp; Daniel shakes his head. There's water still beaded in his hair, plastering it to his scalp, dripping down his cheek and the tip of his nose. "All I can think about most nights is what I was doing those first five years he was alive. Was it anything substantial? Was it anything worthwhile? And I know the answer. Because I don't remember half of what I was doing in that time."

  "Well, that's what you have me for," I joke lightly. "I keep track of things for you. Just tell me the day you're curious about and I can tell you any detail, down to what you had for lunch."

  "I don't know what I'd do without you, Val." He turns to me, and his eyes have taken on a fervent sheen I don't recognize. "I mean it. I'd be a mess without you."

  "You're a mess with me."

  "Bigger mess. Inhumanly big. I doubt I'd still be working at Sway if it weren't for you. Any of the credit my brothers grudgingly give to me... I owe it all to you."

  His hand squeezes mine again. Until suddenly, squeezing isn't enough. Daniel pulls me into him, and I give a little gasp as I go. His blanket slips down past his shoulders, and he holds me hard against his chest. Our bodies are pressed so close that any dampness leftover from the storm seems to transfer between us. As if on cue, a gust outside causes the lights to flicker. It seems perfectly in time to my frantic pulse.

  "I wish I could keep you," Daniel breathes into my ear.

  My hands squeeze his shoulders. I'm battling back the urge to throw my arms around his neck, to succumb completely to his embrace, to let him know... what? That despite my best efforts, I have fallen for him? That I've cared for him—loved him—longer than I want to confess to?

  I'm desperately confused. Up until Tahiti, I had done my best to refuse to acknowledge it. And now...

  And now, locked in his arms, I don't know what to think. I can't forget the sting of his words, or his cavalier behavior, back on the beach that afternoon. Who is the real Daniel? And how can I love a man so deeply, so wholly, if I'm not even sure who he is?