Chapter 39
CARI
I take Brooke to a play date at Celine’s house. She invited us over.
Jett’s departure has left both me and Brooke feeling unmoored. We’ve spent every day together since arriving in Bermuda, and this sudden shift has thrown me off. I know it’s harder for Brooke, though. She’s so young, and Jett is her entire world, so this is a welcome distraction.
From the moment we step inside, I feel a sense of calm. The house is bright and airy, and has a lovely homey feel to it—rather like Celine herself. It has none of the grand opulence of the other houses I’ve visited. Wide windows let in the ocean breeze, and sunlight spills over the polished wooden floors. The walls are painted in soft, sandy hues, and vibrant tropical plants adorn every corner.
“I’m so glad you could come,” she says, pulling us into a warm hug. “I have Zara here for a few days. Her mom needs time to rest because the baby can come any time now. It will give me a small break, having Brooke over to keep her company.”
“You have a lovely place.” My gaze takes in her home as she leads me through the house into the kitchen.
“Thank you. We’ve been very happy here.”
“Where’s your daddy?” Celine asks Brooke, her voice light.
I shake my head subtly, and she catches my meaning, quickly switching gears.
“He’s working.” I try to sound breezy. “Hopefully not for too long.”
Before Brooke can answer, Zara appears, and Brooke’s face lights up.
“Come and play with my dolls!” Zara says, grabbing Brooke’s hand and tugging her upstairs.
“They’ll be fine,” Celine assures me with a wave of her hand. “And don’t worry about anything breaking—Brooke’s a good kid, she’s just like a granddaughter to me. Even if there’s an accident, it doesn’t matter. Possessions can be replaced.”
She leads me out to the back patio, a stunning oasis overlooking the turquoise water. There’s a shaded seating area under a pergola draped with bougainvillea, and the air is filled with the soft sound of waves lapping against the rocks. I take a seat as Celine pours two glasses of iced tea.
“Jett’s had to go to Florida,” I say, breaking the silence.
“Florida?”
“Business. Something about a big acquisition that hit a snag. It’s important enough that Jett had to fly out to fix it.”
Celine’s wise brown eyes study me for a moment, and I feel my chest tighten. She doesn’t miss much, and I worry she’ll see through me.
“You know a lot about his business,” she says.
“I’m his assistant,” I admit, shifting uncomfortably under her gaze.
Her brows shoot up. “You are? Why didn’t I know this?”
“I didn’t think it was important to bring up,” I falter, my voice wary.
She narrows her eyes. “You’re his assistant, but you’re here?”
“I’m his assistant for about a week after we get back, because I’ve turned in my notice that I'm leaving.”
Her warm brown eyes widen. “Why are you leaving? And why, if you're his assistant, are you here? I'm glad you are, honey. I'm so glad we met.” She takes my hand and squeezes it in both of hers. “But ... whatever happened to the nanny? I'm sure there's always been a nanny who comes along with Brooke.”
“She ... ugh. She quit. Because she had a family wedding and told Jett and he hadn't really paid attention. And then a week before coming here, she reminded him that she was going to be away and couldn't accompany them for three weeks. And she'd already told him, and ... well ... she quit. There wasn't time to get a new nanny—”
“You’re talking really fast, honey. Slow down.” Celine places a calming hand over mine.
Heat floods my cheeks. Celine can tell. She knows something is going on between me and Jett, but can she tell what we've been doing in bed?
Of course, she can't, but I still fan my face with a napkin that's lying on the table. “Why are you leaving?” she asks softly, her head tilting in curiosity. “You’re so good with Brooke. And, honey, I can see it—you’re good for Jett, too.”
The words are like a knife to my chest.
If I can’t answer simple questions about me and Jett, how will I ever keep it together in front of his family? In front of his father? And then I realize I'm racing ahead. I’m trying to figure out what will happen when we get back, and I have no clue because I haven’t been thinking about it.
“Because it’s complicated.” I glance away. She doesn’t press, but her look says she knows more than I want her to.
“I've known Brooke since I started working for him, when she was two years old,” I explain.
“Ah, we've been seeing her every year, of course. After she was born, Sophia and Jett came here. Sophia rested here and then she came again, I think, just before Brooke turned one. She was due to come here the year after, but then we heard the awful news.” She looks pained just thinking about it. “It broke him. Jett couldn't work for a year. He was so broken. They were so in love.”
It feels like I'm eavesdropping on a secret, private conversation here, but that's all in the past.
“It was an aneurysm in the brain and it was sudden,” she tells me. “It was unexpected. Nobody could do anything about it.”
“That’s so sad. Beyond tragic,” I whisper, thinking about Jett and Brooke’s world crashing down around them. I feel for Jett and Brooke, but mostly for Jett, because Brooke would have been too young to understand the magnitude of her loss.
“Life has to go on,” Celine says, in that steady, determined voice as she looks out onto the ocean. “In life, these things happen. This is why we must make the most of every opportunity we get. Every day is to be savored, and every moment is to be enjoyed. And if you can't make anyone happy, if you have nothing nice to say, don't say anything at all.”
“Wise words,” I agree.
“You've got a good heart, Cari. I can see how much Brooke adores you. I mean, it seems like a very close bond given that you're Jett's PA.”
She has a soft way of asking, and I can see she's curious. I'm not offended. I explain that I've had a lot of interactions with Brooke, because Jett brings her into the office every now and then, and I've seen the little toddler grow into a little girl.
“You smile when you talk of her. It's nothing like what an assistant would do, even if you've been seeing a lot of her. I've watched you with her, and there's a bond there, Cari.”
I chew my lower lip. “I adore her. I love her like ...” I shrug, and our eyes meet. I've given away too much.
“I just want you to be careful, Cari.”
The words of warning pierce through the happy bubble I've found myself in lately.
“Jett is a good man, but he's a complicated man. He's gone through a lot. He was just a teenager when his mother died. As you might know, she took her own life. It's all very messy, and it's taken a toll on those boys. As well as the other boys, the family he hid from Aurora for so long. “
“You know of them?”
Her mouth quirks into a knowing smile. “Yes.”
She leans closer, her voice dropping conspiratorially. “Their father had a secret life in Italy—three sons from another woman while raising his boys with Aurora. No one knew until the boys were older, and even then, Paul kept it quiet. They don’t come here. I imagine it’s another one of Paul’s games …”
“Games?”
“He has ways and means of controlling the boys. He plays with people, as if they’re pawns in his chess game. Maybe he doesn’t want them mixing with the Bermuda crowd, I don’t know. But it’s also probable that Aurora’s boys, Jett, Dex, and Zach, wouldn’t want them here. This is their mother’s home. It was a place Aurora loved and Paul had it built for her.”
I nod, absorbing the new information. “Jett doesn’t talk about them much.”
Celine’s smile fades. “Paul has a plan. A blueprint, if you will. He didn't become a billionaire overnight without sacrifice. He’s not a man to be underestimated. He’s cold, calculating, and every decision he makes is about legacy. Just be careful, Cari. He doesn’t take kindly to anything—or anyone—getting in the way of his plans.”
I put a hand to my neck, feeling the heat of the warning. “Of course.”
“Jett will take care of you, just like he did the other night when he stood up to those vicious piranhas.”
I take a sip of my iced tea. It's refreshing and cold, and exactly what I need. “I was really surprised he did that.”
“Were you?” Celine asks. “Is he a difficult boss?”
That question is one I can't answer without giving too much away.
She nods. A knowing nod. “I see something different in him this time. Heart.”
“Heart?” I echo.
“He's always been cold, closed off, arrogant, a bit—you know—brutal, except when he's with Brooke.”
“You see that too,” I murmur.
“But I see his softness around you too. He's protective over you, and when he spoke up for you and told Tiffany and her odious sister what they needed to be told ...”
I open my mouth.
“Don't tell me anything, honey, not until you're 100% sure.”
My fingers brush the condensation on my glass.
“What are your plans after you leave?” She changes the subject, thank God.
I tell her about the florist shop, the one that brought my mom so much pleasure when she was lying on the hospital bed. “I want to do something for myself. I'm a PA, but I can do more. Something for me. Something that would bring happiness to people, when their world is filled with misery and pain. It's a small thing, but it's something. I saw how my mom's face would light up each time I walked in with fresh flowers.”
“I can see that about you. “You’re kind and thoughtful, and I can see you doing something that brings happiness to people. That’s rare.”
Her words settle something in my chest.
“You’re also not afraid to stand up for yourself, from what I heard when Abigail and Madison accused Brooke.” She chuckles.
“I would defend Brooke with my life. That poor little girl. No one is going to say a mean word to her while I'm around.”
“There she goes, Mama Bear.” The label makes my heart boom.
I lower my voice. “She doesn't have a mommy, and now she's asking me mommy questions. It's a difficult age.”
“Yes, it is,” Celine agrees. “I can see she's so happy around you.”
“It's been a memorable trip and I'll be sorry to leave.”
“Maybe we'll see you again?” Celine asks, and I don't know in which universe that will happen.
I shrug and say nothing.
“Thank you for having us,” I say when it’s time to leave.
She hugs me tightly. “You can call me anytime, Cari. You’re always welcome here.”
“And when you travel to New York next time, look me up.” I pull out a little pocket notepad from my bag and scribble my address and phone number on it.
“Just be careful with your heart, Cari,” she says gently, but her meaning is clear.