That Birthday in Barbados
Inglath Cooper
That Birthday in Barbados Copyright © by Inglath Cooper. All Rights Reserved.
Contents
Copyright
Books by Inglath Cooper
That Birthday in Barbados . . .
Map of Barbados
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Chapter Thirty-four
Chapter Thirty-five
Chapter Thirty-six
Chapter Thirty-seven
Chapter Thirty-eight
Chapter Thirty-nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-one
Chapter Forty-two
Chapter Forty-three
Chapter Forty-four
Chapter Forty-five
Chapter Forty-six
Chapter Forty-seven
Chapter Forty-eight
Chapter Forty-nine
Epilogue
The Barbados Sea Turtle Project
Book Club Guide
If You Enjoyed That Birthday in Barbados. . .
Excerpt from That Month in Tuscany
Books by Inglath Cooper
Dear Reader
About Inglath Cooper
Copyright
Published by Fence Free Entertainment, LLC
Copyright © Inglath Cooper, 2019
Cooper, Inglath
That Birthday in Barbados / Inglath Cooper
ISBN – 978-0-9973415-7-7
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher at the email address below.
Fence Free Entertainment, LLC
[email protected]
Books by Inglath Cooper
That Birthday in Barbados
That Month in Tuscany
Swerve
The Heart That Breaks
My Italian Lover
Fences – Book Three – Smith Mountain Lake Series
Dragonfly Summer – Book Two – Smith Mountain Lake Series
Blue Wide Sky – Book One – Smith Mountain Lake Series
And Then You Loved Me
Down a Country Road
Good Guys Love Dogs
Truths and Roses
Nashville – Part Ten – Not Without You
Nashville – Book Nine – You, Me and a Palm Tree
Nashville – Book Eight – R U Serious
Nashville – Book Seven – Commit
Nashville – Book Six – Sweet Tea and Me
Nashville – Book Five – Amazed
Nashville – Book Four – Pleasure in the Rain
Nashville – Book Three – What We Feel
Nashville – Book Two – Hammer and a Song
Nashville – Book One – Ready to Reach
A Gift of Grace
RITA® Award Winner John Riley’s Girl
A Woman With Secrets
Unfinished Business
A Woman Like Annie
The Lost Daughter of Pigeon Hollow
A Year and a Day
That Birthday in Barbados . . .
What is it about turning forty that makes a woman take a look at where she’s been and where she’s going?
For ActivGirl CEO Catherine Camilleri, it is a crossroads that has her wondering where she went off course. Divorced without children, life isn’t what she had pictured for herself twenty years ago. Not up to admitting any of this in front of friends and family, she bails on the surprise party being thrown for her and books a last-minute trip to Barbados for a stay at the luxurious hotel where she’d spent her honeymoon ten years before. Is she going back to mourn the marriage she’d thought would last forever? Or in an attempt to chase out of her heart for good a betrayal that forever changed her?
Anders Walker might be just the ticket for that. After a brief career on Wall Street and a life experience that turned his world upside down, Anders took off the golden handcuffs and walked away for good. When he spots Catherine checking in on arrival at the hotel, he challenges her to try his spin class. He sees a woman who no longer considers herself someone a guy like him would be attracted to. Except that she’s wrong. In Catherine, he recognizes a woman who defines herself by rejection. He sees, too, that she has made work her life. But he’s learned that there is so much more to living. Simple things like swimming with sea turtles. And watching the sun sink on a Caribbean horizon. He’s got two weeks to prove it to her, to make sure she will always remember that birthday in Barbados.
Map of Barbados
Prologue
“My life is a train and it has derailed.”
― Amelia Mysko
Catherine
LATER, I WOULD ask myself how betrayal could go completely undetected, unless, of course, I was simply naive or considered myself someone that kind of thing never happened to. And I guess, in all truth, it was both.
But that morning, on the day my life changed forever, I never imagined it happening to me.
That morning, I was thinking about other things. It was a big day. A huge day. A day I’d dreamed about but never believed could actually happen.
I would have loved to sneak into my office, close the door and give myself a private pep talk. But as soon as I stepped off the elevator, everyone knew I’d arrived `a la the click-clack of the Louboutins I rarely took out of the closet. I usually showed up in workout clothes, but on this day I had to look the part of CEO. And they were all staring at me because they knew today was different. In the hours ahead, I would be completely changing our company culture from small, private company to publicly held cog in a much larger wheel.
At the tap of my heels, heads bobbed up, smiles broke out, hands got busy tapping keyboards. Someone yelled out, “We’re going public, baby!”
The words sent a missile of apprehension cruising through my stomach. I smiled and gunned it down the hallway, click-clacking the entire way. Outside my office, my assistant, James, vaulted from his desk and grabbed the cup of Starbucks he’d picked up for me from the store near our building.
“You look ravishing this morning,” he said, following me. “Those attorneys y
ou’re meeting with rate better than yoga pants?”
“First impressions,” I said, taking a sip of my still hot coffee. “And I can handle one day on Wall Street without my running shoes.”
The glass door to my office was wide open, and I stepped inside, shivering. “Why is it always freezing in here?” I asked, setting my coffee on the desk.
“You’re freezing. I’m sweating,” James said, wiping the back of his hand across his forehead.
“It’s New York. I’m not sure I’ve been warm since the day I moved here.”
“It’s that South Carolina DNA,” he said. “And you need more body fat. That’s your main problem.”
“And your problem is that you stay out late partying. You’re detoxing before my very eyes.”
He barked a laugh. “You should try it sometime. All work and no play― ”
“Keep Catherine from having a hangover,” I asserted.
“And from having a good time,” he added.
“With the current work load here, I’m afraid a good time is not in the cards for me.”
“Have you ever thought about slowing down? Like hitting the brakes and taking notice of the trees outside your window? Well, actually, the trees in Central Park.”
I leaned back and gave him a look. “Are you trying to tell me something, James?”
“You know what they say. There’s more to life than work. Take babies, for example. Don’t most marriages get to a point where a baby is the next step?”
“When would I have time for a child, James?”
James shrugged, looked out the window where Manhattan skyscrapers glared back at us. “Yeah. I know. It’s just that I’ve been listening to a book by Dr. Wayne Dyer on the train coming to work. Dr. Dyer said, “Anything you must have, owns you. When you release it, you get more of it.”
“More work?” I teased.
“More life, I guess.”
“Do you think that’s true?” I asked, serious because he’s serious.
“Maybe,” he said.
I tapped the keyboard of my Mac desktop and brought up my calendar screen. “Do you think this business owns me?”
“Some days,” he said without hesitating. “Most, actually, if I’m truthful.”
At the sober note in his voice, I looked up from the calendar. “ActivGirl is my baby right now. I’ve created the little monster and slowing down isn’t an option. I’m getting ready to sign the next five years of my life away.”
“Yeah. I’ve been thinking a lot about choices lately. How every single one we make links to the next choice. And together all those choices make what ends up being our lives.”
I gave him a questioning stare. “What exactly did you have to drink last night, James?”
He smiled a half-smile, shaking his head. “Deep for me, huh?”
“A bit for your age. But why do I have the feeling there’s something more than an audiobook behind this sudden insight of yours?”
He chewed on his lower lip, looking worried and then trying to clear his expression. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”
“What’s nothing?” I asked, a funny flutter hitting the center of my stomach, my inner radar sending up a sudden sonar blast.
“If I say something, and it’s nothing, I’ll feel like a real jerk.”
I considered shrugging this off. Something told me I should. That I’d regret not doing so. But I wasn’t made like that. Once the red cape appeared in front of me, I couldn’t ignore it. “Okay, ‘fess up,” I said, trying to keep my voice light. “What is it?”
He looked down at his hands, rubbed his palms together, and then pressed them against the sides of his head. “Oh, crap. I wish I hadn’t said anything.”
“James. Whatever it is, just say it.”
I saw the struggle on his face, the deep desire that he wished he’d remained silent. The equal realization that he was already in the curve, and it was too late to turn back now. Nothing to do but accelerate.
He exhaled. “So I stopped off at the Plaza Hotel yesterday after work to meet a friend for a drink.”
“Yes?” My heart pounded. I could feel it beating against the wall of my chest, hammering my temples. I was standing on the tracks, and I could hear the train coming, see it too, but I couldn’t move.
“I really don’t want to tell you this,” he said, and it was clear he wished he’d stayed quiet.
“James. Please.” Even as I demanded that he say whatever had him so undone, I wanted him to stop. I wanted to pause the moment. Rewind to ten minutes earlier when I walked out of the elevator, thinking the only possible kink in my day could come from a deal falling through.
James bit his lip, visibly struggling, and then leapt off the ledge. “Connor and Nicole were having drinks at one of the back tables.”
“What?”
And then relief flooded through me, liquid, golden. I laughed, hearing my gratitude for the reprise. “Oh. I bet they’re planning something for my birthday. Those two― ”
“Were kissing. Passionately.”
The words fell on me like boulders from the sky. I felt the blood leave my face. I tried to form the word What, but my lips wouldn’t move. I stared at him, images crashing through my head, the cut line of Connor’s jaw, my sister’s pretty mouth, his hands on her face.
“Catherine?” James said my name on a note of panic. “Here, sit down.” He put a hand on each of my shoulders, guided me to the chair at my desk. “Don’t faint! Please don’t faint!”
I leaned my head against the back of the chair and drew in a deep breath. I prayed that I didn’t humiliate myself by passing out. I tried for a word, couldn’t find one, shook my head. “Are you . . . are you sure?” I finally managed.
James stood above me, looking at the puddle I’d dissolved into, as if he had never regretted anything more than this moment. “Dear God, I so wish I weren’t, Catherine.”
I nodded once, hard, pressed my lips together and said, “Okay, then. On with the day. Would you mind going to the fourth floor and picking up the rest of the documents I’ll need for the meeting?”
“Yes. Yes, of course. It’s just that you’re getting ready to make such a big life change, and I thought you deserved to know in case. . .”
“It’s okay, James. You were right to tell me.”
Looking now as if he were going to cry, he left the office. Alone, I caught my reflection in the silver-framed mirror hanging behind my desk.
Suddenly, I saw the circles under my green eyes. And were those wrinkle lines at the corners? When did they appear? Did I need Botox? I’d hated the very idea, but maybe I’d been an idiot.
I’ve lost my looks.
There. The truth.
My shoulder-length blonde hair was in need of a cut, and could use some highlights. My skin was at its most pale winter hue.
When was the last time Connor and I made love?
The question struck me from nowhere. A lightning bolt illuminating truths I had been ignoring for months now like dirty laundry tossed to the back of the closet. If I didn’t acknowledge the problem, it wasn’t a problem.
Connor didn’t want me.
I thought he was tired. Overworked. We needed a vacation. A getaway. A reconnect.
But that hadn’t been it at all. He’d been having an affair. With my sister.
The shock of this truth hit me like a hammer in the heart, betrayal the nail being pounded into its center. My husband. My sister.
A scream formed at the base of my throat, but I swallowed it back, afraid it would tear the walls of this office apart.
Instead, I reached for my laptop, popped open the lid, entered the pass code at the main screen. I tapped the search engine icon and entered Connor’s email account service. At the login page, I entered his email address, my fingers hovering over the password box. I knew it at one time. But he changed it a few months ago when he received a notice saying someone had tried to login to his account. Or had that been a lie?
I tr
ied a combination of his social security number and our wedding date. It took a few attempts. I hit the jackpot with the last string. I marveled for a moment how well you could know a person when you’d been together as long as I’d been with Connor. And, too, how you could not know them at all.
Once I was in, I glanced at the new emails. Mostly junk. There was one from Ed, Connor’s college roommate. I started to open it, decided not to.
I clicked on Old Mail, scrolled down the list, stopping at the sight of my sister’s email address.
My thumb hovered over the keyboard, the silence in my office now blaring in my ears like the roar of a jet engine.
I could leave it.
Would it be better not to know? Wait until the meeting was over today and then talk to Connor tonight? Maybe there was an explanation. Maybe James misread the situation.
But then it would be difficult to misread a passionate kiss.
Before I could change my mind, I clicked on the email and opened it. A chain of communication between my sister and my husband unfolded before my eyes.
I sat for a moment, staring at the words, trying to absorb them. Slowly, I backed out and clicked on the next one.
I’d opened a Pandora’s box, but I didn’t have the power to close it.
With my hand shaking, I forced myself to open the next one.
I stopped there, closed out the account. I couldn’t read anymore. My stomach rolled.
I bolted from my chair. I barely made it to the toilet in the office bathroom before throwing up the coffee that was the only thing on my stomach.
I retched so hard that it felt as if a knife was cutting through my midsection.
When there was nothing left to come up, I stood, pushing my hair back from my face. A knife might actually have been less painful than the reality of betrayal.
My sister. My husband.
I pictured both their faces, heard their voices telling me the lies that had been necessary to keep all of this secret. How long had it been going on? When did it start?
Another stab of pain hit me in the center of my chest. I bent over, wrapping my arms around myself, squeezing as hard as I could, as if my very soul were dissolving and flowing right out onto the floor.
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