Chapter 24

CARI

I wake up with a start.

Last night, I rushed back to my room with my heart pounding and my pulse racing. I still can’t believe what happened. After replaying what went on in the bar between me and Jett, I finally fell asleep. I slept blissfully—like a baby, for once—but now I’m wide awake again, and it’s only five in the morning.

All I can think about is what happened last night. Did that conversation really happen, or did I imagine it? What did he mean? Did he seriously comment on my lack of bra?

No, that can’t be right. I shake my head because the lines between wishful thinking and reality are blurring.

Not only did I have one too many cocktails, but I ended up sharing another drink with my flirtatious, very-drunk boss. At least this time he’s not sitting in my room keeping watch over me.

You’re not wearing a bra.

My body reacts just thinking about it, but Jett Knight would never say those things, especially to someone like me. I’m not Alicia. I’m not some glamorous woman who turns heads when she walks into a room. I’m a simple girl who doesn’t belong in Jett’s world, and I don’t possess the sophistication and beauty of the women he usually surrounds himself with.

I must have made it up. Imagined it. Also, he was bordering on drunk.

I peek out the door to check on Brooke. She’s still fast asleep. We’re going to the Crystal Caves today, just the two of us. I’m relieved that Jett won’t be around.

It’s still early, so I let her sleep and head back to my room, opening a window and breathing in the salty sea air as the early morning sunlight warms my face. The view is stunning—the turquoise waters of Bermuda glisten like liquid diamonds, stretching out as far as the eye can see. The ocean sparkles, catching the light in a way that makes it look like a living, breathing thing.

In the safety of my room, my mind drifts back to my boss and I try to recall what happened last night with some distance. The flirtatious words, the lingering looks … they kept coming, and I didn’t want to leave. But there’s no way— no way —he could be interested in me.

Is there?

A man of his wealth and standing would never see me as more than his PA. The thought is strangely comforting, though mixed with confusion. He’s older, my boss—well, soon to be ex-boss—a man of the world, a billionaire. If he was flirting with me, it’s because he’s lonely, frustrated, and missing Alicia.

This is all in my head.

Wishful thinking.

Yet, we did talk. Like we’ve never talked before.

I remember he wasn’t nice about Jacques, and he seemed annoyed that I’d gone out with him.

Still … I don’t know. He was drinking alone, and was moody and irritated—the way he gets when something’s wrong. I wonder if his father has said or done something to upset him? Jett always gets like this after dealing with him.

I hear voices outside and look down, my heart tripping over my emotions. Jett is dressed in one of his immaculate suits, and I watch him climb into the SUV. It’s a Sunday, but he mentioned something about having a busy day. Even in this heat, he wears a tie and looks as polished and perfect as ever. I don’t know how he does it.

I hope his entire day is filled with meetings because I can’t face him. As the black SUV drives away, I let out a sigh of relief.

Last night was fun, though—meeting Jacques and his friends. I drank too much, danced, loosened up. I got a break from everything back home, from my mom's memory haunting me here. Jett was right about one thing, this trip has done me some good. Except now, it feels like I’m on a slightly different trajectory. Like this is not just a trip to Bermuda to take care of Brooke.

It hits me again—that I groped him in the water, and he didn’t seem to mind. That part wasn’t a dream.

I’m so confused. So confused. My thoughts spiral into a fantasy where Jett is magically interested in me, where we could actually have a future. But before I can lose myself in that fairy tale, Brooke bursts into my room.

She was so fast asleep a minute ago, and now she’s wide awake, bouncing around like she’s been up for hours. The change is mind-boggling.

“Can we go to the caves now?” she asks excitedly.

I laugh, finding humor in her misplaced sense of time. “We can, but after breakfast, sweetie.”

I’m looking forward to being out of the house and I’m desperate for a distraction. I need to stay far away from Jett, and I need to calm down.

And figure out how I’ll ever face him again.

We head to the Crystal Caves right after breakfast. One of the drivers takes us there, and I’m secretly relieved to have the day with just Brooke.

It feels good—refreshing, actually—to focus solely on Brooke, pushing all thoughts of Jett out of my mind. Brooke’s innocent excitement is endearing. She makes me want to protect her and make her smile. I want her to enjoy this vacation, and I want the memory of the situation at Madison’s to fade away. I managed to get Celine’s number from Jett and I’m hoping to call her at some point to arrange a play date with Brooke and Zara, but for now, it’s just me and Brooke.

I tell her briefly what I know, what I’ve looked up about the caves—it’s an underground wonderland, formed millions of years ago. The air is cool and damp inside, and Brooke’s eyes are wide as we stare at the underground lake at the heart of the cave. It’s amazingly clear, the still surface reflecting the ethereal beauty of the formations above. Soft lighting illuminates the crystals, casting sparkling reflections across the water.

“Oooohhhh,” she murmurs. She reaches for my hand, and together we stand, enchanted and in silent wonder. We observe the shimmering stalactites suspended from the ceiling like delicate chandeliers and the pointy stalagmites that rise from the cave floor, some almost meeting to form columns.

I feel as if I'm in another world down here. Brooke gazes wide-eyed, her voice echoing softly as she marvels at the natural artistry carved over millennia.

We take our time going around slowly. Later, we sit down at a picnic table, outside a small row of shops.

“They were breathtaking, weren’t they?” I unpack some sandwiches and open a plastic container of chopped fruit. Then I set out two bottles of water. “What did you you think?”

Brooke turns to me with those big, curious eyes of hers. “I wish you were my mommy.”

The question slaps me hard. She didn’t even hear my question, or even if she did, this thought must have been percolating around inside her head to come tumbling out the way it did. I blink at her, completely thrown off guard. “Oh, sweetie …” I want to tell her that only her mommy can be her mommy, but I’m scared she’ll ask more questions, and I won’t have the right answers.

“You’re prettier and nicer than all the other mommies,” she says innocently, her voice full of conviction.

My heart squeezes tightly at her words. What thoughts are going through her mind? She’s so young, but she’s growing up and is naturally curious. It’s only to be expected that she’ll have questions. Then, just as casually, she asks, “Do you know where my mommy is?”

I’m stunned, not sure how to respond. I didn’t expect this conversation—not today, not here. I’ve always seen Brooke as this bright, happy little girl, but there’s so much more going on beneath the surface. I try to gather my thoughts, but all I can think is that I need to talk to Jett. I smooth down her hair, plaster on a smile I don’t feel and tell her, “I’m not sure, sweetie.”

“Daddy doesn’t tell me.”

“Have you asked him?”

She nods, her big doleful eyes looking at me for answers. “He looks sad when I ask him, so I don’t ask him now.”

We can’t avoid this anymore. Brooke’s asking questions, and it’s clear she deserves answers. I need to figure out what to say to her, which means I need to speak to Jett.

“Oh, Brooke.” I hug her as she clutches her beloved elephant to her chest. She takes it with her everywhere, along with a small knapsack filled with some dolls. “I …”

I wish I could give you the answers you deserve . But instead I say, “I was thinking that it might be nice for you and Zara to have a play date. Would you like that?” I avoid the subject like a coward.

She nods enthusiastically, her questions and worries zapped out of her mind. I feel like I’ve failed her, but I’m determined to talk to Jett about this. “Okay, sweetie. I’ll see what I can do. Let’s finish our lunch, shall we?”

After lunch, I call the driver. I’ve been granted the privilege of calling him whenever we need him. As the SUV pulls up, the driver steps out and opens the door for us.

We climb inside and my heart stumbles at the sight of Jett.

What is he doing here?

Brooke lights up at the sight of him. She sits between us, and I feel a sense of relief. My heart thumps like I’ve just done a sprint. Jett looks at me, causing the air to be sucked right from my lungs. We acknowledge each other with only a nod.

I try to regulate my breathing as the memory of last night’s flirtatious conversation buzzes in my mind. Jett, on the other hand, is cool as ever, like nothing happened. He greets Brooke warmly, pulling her into a hug, but his eyes linger on me for a moment too long. It’s the same look from last night, and I can feel the heat rushing to my cheeks.

As always, he looks devastatingly handsome, still in his business suit. The air between us feels thick, charged with everything unspoken. Brooke’s excitement barely cuts through the tension as she playfully sits on his lap, animatedly recounting our day.

I’m no Grace Kelly. I have no icy indifference to make me appear nonchalant and cool. I’m more likely to trip over my emotions and lie face down in embarrassment. I’m an open book, as easily read as a children’s story—simple, with no hidden meanings.

Jett is distant and completely unattainable, like always. His face gives nothing away. I’m not involved in this conversation, and I might as well not be here.

Brooke chatters away happily telling him about the Crystal Caves. She twists in his lap to face me. “What were they called? Those pointy sticks.” Jett’s casual glance slides in my direction, making my insides electrify.

“The stalactites are the ones that hold tight to the ceiling, and the stalagmites grow up from the ground and might one day reach the ceiling.” It’s shocking that I find the ability to think with the heat of Jett’s gaze on my skin.

Jett listens but still doesn’t pull me into the conversation. It’s as though last night never happened, like he’s reestablishing the boundary—the one we blurred after too much whiskey and those late-night, too-honest words.

The two of them continue talking while I stare out of the window trying not to fall apart. As I lay in bed last night, I concocted fully fleshed out scenes of me and Jett. But now he’s poured a bucket of ice-cold water over my sizzling dreams.

As he should.

When we arrive at the mansion and Jett opens the door. Brooke bounds past him and jumps out first. I'm about to open the door on my side when I notice that Brooke has dropped her beloved elephant. We both reach for it at the same time and our hands brush. The fleeting, innocent touch sends a shock through me and I pull away, flustered, meeting his gaze. For a second, the world tilts as his strong and sensual cologne wafts over me. I let go of the toy, and notice Jett’s lips twist like he's about to say something. He picks up the elephant and stares at it.

“It’s … it’s fixed. Who did this?” He sounds impressed.

“I did.”

His eyes settle on me, turning soft. “You did this?”

“I can sew, Mr. Knight. Besides, it was so tattered.”

“Thank you.”

I nod.

“After you.” His voice suddenly turns cold and businesslike again. The door on his side is open, and I obey, walking past him gingerly in a small space, trying my hardest not to touch him. But my chest tightens. Throughout the ride he hasn’t said a word to me.

But then again, I haven’t said anything to him either.

I wonder if, in the light of day, he’s so angry with me that he can’t face me. Maybe the man before me is the same miserable, turbulent Jett from before. The man I know so well, the one who hides his emotions behind a cool, detached exterior.

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