Nana’s saying something, but I’m only half listening as the tranquil view lures me into believing what’s outside the sanctity of my room can’t hurt me. But I know better.
Taking a deep breath, I turn away and concentrate on the first task at hand for the long weekend ahead.
Setting my grandmother at ease before I make my way downstairs to burn off some energy.
* * *
After throwing on some workout gear and some well-worn sneakers, I tie my hair back away from my face before slipping my key card, credit card, and iPhone in my lower back zipper pocket. Slipping a pair of wireless buds in, I push the down button on the elevator and wait.
When I get to the main level, I stop at the concierge desk to ask for directions to the gym. After I find out there’s not a fully equipped gym on site, but there’s a path around the hotel property for running and walking, I push off at a brisk trot to warm up my muscles with “Centuries” blasting. My mind empties of everything but the heat raining down on me from the sunlight above and the contradiction of feeling from the cold water bottle in my hand given to me by the concierge “…free of charge. It’s part of our partnership with New Balance.”
Not bad, I think as the song switches to something with a lull. Stepping to the side, I stretch my warmed-up muscles so I don’t pull anything. While I much prefer swimming, the resort’s pool isn’t designed for the kind of laps I usually put my resurrected body through. And although I’d rather run on a treadmill in this humidity, I’ll take what I can get. I start running again when the thoughts for my newest plot start creeping in.
Pilar is walking down the hall when suddenly she’s shoved up against the floor-to-ceiling windows, books scattering everywhere. Her head slams back against the glass with a hard thud. Two sets of strong arms pin her there while a group of people start to lift her shirt. What feels like a million fingers poke at her stomach. “Jesus, Martell, what did you eat for dinner last night?”
“Must have been that missing animal they were talking about over the loudspeaker. She’s even more of a dog than yesterday.” All of the nearby students watching collapse in laughter.
Pilar’s face is almost purple in humiliation. Tears scald hot tracks down them.
My legs pump harder as I burn out my fury of that memory that I relive through my character “Pilar.” Quickly, I pull up an ongoing text I have and send myself a quick voice message so I don’t forget this next section of my current book, Humility. My young adult series about a girl at a private boarding school living through much of the same hell I, myself, endured at Forsyth is making waves all over the world. As Kee Long, I’ve been able to purge myself of the pain, no, the fucking shame I endured.
Maybe this weekend, I’ll be able to bury it and finally move on with my life.
At least, that’s the plan.
About forty minutes and a few more dictations later, I finished the three-mile loop back to the Westin. After stepping into the cool lobby, the same concierge greets me. “Welcome back! How did you enjoy your run?”
I smile ruefully as I accept a fresh towel to blot the sweat off my face. “Enjoy is a subjective turn of phrase, Matías.”
His chuckle is as warm as the Savannah air. “True, but now you can say you’re done and indulge in something from Escape or Aqua Grill.”
I shake my head. “Too much work to do. I’m more likely to order something from room service.”
He does a quick check around before easing his way closer. “You know, there’s a few places downtown that are pretty fantastic.” His tone opens the door if I want to cross through it for some company.
Completely flattered by the attention of the darkly handsome man, I politely decline. After all, he’s likely flirty with most of the guests. I know I’m nothing special when I’m measured up against many of the women out there.
I’m just me.
Chapter 2
Rierson
My fingers are flying across the keyboard as I take notes about the contract I downloaded to work on during the three-hour flight from New Orleans to Savannah. I need something to distract me from my thoughts of flying back for this high school reunion.
I went back to both of the previous ones and had full intentions of bailing this time, using work as the excuse, until I saw the Evite acceptance list that she was attending.
Kelsey Kennedy.
Unable to focus now that my mind went to the one place I wasn’t ready for it to go, I toss my wire-rimmed reading glasses aside. Relaxing back against the plush leather seats in the first-class cabin, my thoughts begin to wander to what she’s been doing the last fifteen years. Is she married? Does she have kids? Do her gray eyes still darken to storm clouds when she talks about writing?
Above all, is she finally happy?
Shoving a hand through my hair, I realize it’s knowing the answer to the last question that got me on a plane. Because this really isn’t a reunion as much as it’s an ongoing sentence. And I know if there’s one face Kelsey likely associates with her rightful unhappiness in high school, it’s mine. And she has every right to. Even as I recall my last months of high school, the guilt I continue to feel about what happened between Kelsey and me is something I can’t let go of.
And subsequently, I’ve never quite been able to let go of her or the memories high school still has over me.
“Maybe this time,” I murmur to myself as the tires screech on the runway as my plane touches down.
* * *
About ninety minutes later, the car I hired to get me from the airport to the Westin Savannah Harbor Golf Resort & Spa pulls up to the grand circular entrance. I slide out of the back, nabbing my briefcase while the driver gets my weekender from the trunk.
Looking around at the majestic tower sitting on the bank of the Savannah River, I don’t feel the same feeling of home I do when I jump out of my rental at my parents’ place on Skidaway Island. Holding up a hand to block the sun, I catch sight of a runner making her way into the lobby. Dedicated in this humidity, I think with some amusement. I’ve always been a swimmer. The weight of the world feels like nothing I can’t shoulder while the cool blue water engulfs me.
I’ve done a lot of swimming in the last fifteen years. I suspect I’ll do a lot of it this weekend until I can look Kelsey in the eye and give her a long-overdue apology.
My best friend, Cade, told me over drinks the other night it was “highly probable she’s forgotten all about you.”
“You have no idea how bad it was,” I muttered.
“It wasn’t like you were involved with her,” he argued.
“It wasn’t involvement. I was protective of her,” I said. But it wasn’t just that either. Looking at my relationship with Kelsey with the maturity of a man versus that of a boy who ached to get out, the emotional investment between us was almost…intimate. Because Kelsey was my tutor in creative writing, she learned a lot about my inner thoughts. And I learned about her deepest pain, her hopes and dreams.
We kept each other’s secrets completely private until one day, her journal was discovered. And I, along with the rest of Forsyth, found out what I already suspected about her crush on me.
Back then, my heart quickened when I learned the soft-faced, gray-eyed girl had feelings about me. It touched me to realize she didn’t think I was a total dick like the rest of the student body. The things I got to read—not by her choice—made my heart swell, made me feel special. So, I became Kelsey’s champion more than I already was against the bullies, standing up for her, tearing down anyone I could who would harm the gentle girl who’d done so much for me.
Until I couldn’t.
Until I ended up being the one causing her final destruction, shattering her in front of hundreds of people.
But I couldn’t let them do what they did to me to anyone else.
I just couldn’t.
Stomach churning, I collect my room key and make my way to the elevator just in time for the doors to close on the woman I glimp
sed running when I first pulled in. Not wanting to be with anything more than my thoughts, I don’t make any effort to race for the elevator doors or yell for her to hold them.
Instead, I flip through the reunion pamphlet that was waiting for me at check-in as my thoughts are consumed by all things Kelsey, hoping she’s happy. Because no one deserves it more than she does.
Absentmindedly, I wonder if she’ll come to the barbecue tonight out by the river? Will she come with a date? Her husband? Maybe she’ll bring him to the cocktail hour tomorrow, and by meeting him, the small part of me that felt a flash of something for less than a heartbeat years ago will finally be able to say goodbye.
Maybe I can finally be free from these chains of self-reproach.
Jerking my head, I toss the pamphlet aside. All I know for sure is Kelsey RSVP’d for the main event. And unlike before, I’ll proudly stand by her side if she needs me to protect her from the sociopaths we graduated with.
Because now they can’t hurt me.
Or the ones I love.
* * *
“Ry! Oh, it’s so good to see you.” A sweet Southern accent accompanies a tap on the shoulder that night at the barbecue. I turn around, ready to be immediately hostile, but it’s someone I enjoy. “Hey, Darcy.” I lean down and hug my baby sister’s best friend. “What are you doing here? Did you forget you graduated a few years after I did?”
“Cute. I’m one of the event planners here at the resort.” She waves her hand to encompass the patio area lit by small Edison bulbs and filled with my obnoxious classmates. “I’m just the one who was blessed to work with Juliette for this event.”
“Do I detect sarcasm in your voice?” I tease. Darcy and Lisa were more like twins growing up. They were even roommates at the University of Georgia together when they both graduated Forsyth, only separating when Lisa ended her engagement a few years ago and moved to New Orleans to start over.
“I could fill the pool with sugar, bury her up to her neck in it, and it still wouldn’t make a difference in her disposition,” she tells me bluntly. A second later, her face becomes a blank mask. “Mrs. Gaines. How are you enjoying your evening?”
“The bar is out of Maker’s Mark, we’re low on canapés, and when is the pig going to be done? I selected this resort because of your impeccable reputation. This kind of inattentiveness will be reported immediately to your supervisor,” Juliette Gaines, nee Juliette Bernard, snaps behind me.
I roll my eyes at Darcy before I say loudly, “Thank you for taking the time to explain to me the history of the resort, Ms. Roth.”
“Not a problem at all, Mr. Perrault. Mrs. Gaines, I’ll immediately check on your concerns. Shall I call you or find you directly?” But Juliette’s already dismissed Darcy from her target since she has a new one in her sight.
Me.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Rierson Perrault,” Juliette purrs. She drags her ringed fingers up my arm. I want to sneer. Instead, I let them reach my forearm before I pluck them off and drop them away from me.
“Where’s your husband?” Not that I particularly care, but I sure don’t want this python’s attention directed at me.
I never did.
She waves her hand. “Around. Where have you been? I haven’t heard much about you lately.”
“Not around.” I don’t offer any more than that despite her impatient waiting.
On paper, my life looks picture-perfect. After I graduated high school, I left for college and hardly looked back. I proceeded on to Duke Law, where I summer clerked for Wachtell, Lipton, Rosen & Katz. I worked my way up to an associate for Baker McKenzie, where I worked heavily on cross-border deals. One, in particular, attracted the attention of someone I was an acquaintance with at college even though he was a few years ahead of me.
Though I kept in touch with Eli Boudreaux throughout the years, it was my impeccable work that had him reaching out to offer me the assistant general counsel position at Bayou Enterprises three years ago, only recently being promoted to the head chair. At this level of business, friendship doesn’t come into play, only hard work.
But there’s a hollowness inside of me that keeps me working in the office too many hours. And I can’t even blame it on Eli any longer, not since he got married and quit doing the same shit. I used to joke with him that instead of a bonus, I wanted a bathroom installed in my office like his so I, too, could just sleep at work instead of going home.
But at thirty-four years old, there should be more. I’m just not sure I deserve it. Flickers of shame and guilt wash over me, and my heart begins to race as bile twists my drink in my stomach into something noxious ready to be expunged when I remember what I was forced to do.
And not just to Kelsey.
Juliette pouts in a way I’m sure she thinks is attractive, but all it does is enhance the fact she’s spent way too much money on Botox. Slyly, she prods the beast living inside me. “I hear King Kong’s going to show her face by coming.”
“Her name’s Kelsey,” I bite out harshly. The fist not holding a beer is clenching in the pocket of my dress slacks.
“Oh, that’s right. After all, who’d remember after seeing her? Or not being able to unsee her? Then again, you had to spend more time with her than anyone. I’m not sure how you didn’t have to have eye surgery or something to repair your vision, Rierson. She was a bea…” Juliette’s nasty laugh is cut off when I get into her space as close as I dare.
“Not. Another. Word.” My voice is low and vicious. “I’ll say now what I should have said then: I won’t tolerate another insult or slur against that perfectly sweet woman.” At least not again.
Juliette leans in, undeterred by my threat. “Aw, poor Ry. Did you come here thinking she was going to offer you forgiveness when she likely sees you as the person that represents all of us?” She laughs in my face before turning and walking away.
I stand stock-still for a few moments before moving off in the other direction. Finding the nearest trash, I toss my beer inside and make my way down the ramp toward the yachts docked at the end of the pier.
Juliette’s not wrong. I need to confront Kelsey tomorrow night and publicly beg for her forgiveness the same way I destroyed what was between us. No matter what she does or says, I have to accept that she may never forgive me for an act so hurtful, so heinous, it did turn me into one of her monsters—the monster.
And just because I’m scared of the outcome, just like I was on graduation day, doesn’t give me the right not to accept the consequences for my actions. It’s consuming me, this not knowing. But I owe her the apology face-to-face. Much like I caused her pain fifteen years ago.
Chapter 3
Rierson
She isn’t here yet.
Propping my shoulder against the far wall, I sip at the drink in my hand. I’ve been scanning the room as the door opens. Each time, there’s a new collective gasp before a feminine squeal or a loud call of “Hey man!” or “Dude!” bursts out.
I was one of the first people to arrive, hoping to intercept Kelsey, convince her we should go somewhere to talk before we walked in together—a united front against the vitriol that’s waiting in that room.
But she’s not here.
My raging disappointment is held in check by the fact I still need to navigate my exit from this farce of an event.
“So, you actually work?” Brayden Pierce asks me, aghast. His third wife is clinging to him desperately. Better hold on, I think with some amusement. Brayden was overheard at the last reunion saying he liked his wives to match his cars. And I think I heard him saying earlier he was on the market for a new one of each.
“I do.” Lifting my highball to my lips, I take a sip of the watered-down drink. I didn’t want anything impairing a conversation with Kelsey, but if she’s not going to show, I might refresh my drink.
Just not here.
“When do you find time to socialize with the right people?” Brayden’s wife asks. He squeezes her shoulder, either to agr
ee with her or to hush her; I can’t be sure.
“You find the time when you care about the people.” At that moment, my cell vibrates in my pocket. Thank God. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve been expecting this call.” Slipping my phone out, I frown. There’s no reason for Eli to call unless something’s wrong.
Placing my drink on the nearest high top, I slip out the veranda doors. “Talk to me.”
“I called your assistant. You’re on a flight back for tomorrow.” Eli’s tone brooks no argument.
Immediately all business, I demand, “What happened?”
“We’ve either got a breach or a threat. Information is being sent to your phone.”
“Not my corporate email?”
“I don’t want anything going across the network until we know what the fuck happened.”
I begin to pace back and forth. “Can you read me in now?”
He hesitates. “All I’ll say is be glad you’re three states away or you wouldn’t be receiving this call,” he bites out, right before he hangs up.
Crap. That means whatever it is originated in the legal department. A few seconds later, my new flight information arrives. Quickly, I check in to my flight. I’m stuck in Savannah until tomorrow afternoon, but I can finish the revisions to the offline contracts…
Recognizing Eli may not want me to, I shoot him a quick text.
Within seconds I get a reply. Go ahead and work on them. Keep your computer off the internet.
Roger that, I send back, before sliding my phone back in my pocket.
A million thoughts are flying through my mind about the storm about to erupt at Bayou Enterprises, so I’m only half listening when I hear, “So, Kong came, found her badge, and left? How tragic. I really wanted to see her face.”
Yeah, that pulls me away from my concerns. Stalking out of the shadows, I confront Juliette Gaines. “What the hell did you do?” I rasp.
Easy Reunion Page 2
