Chapter 40
JETT
Florida.
I’ve been here three days, and I’m already at the end of my patience. The meetings have been relentless—we’ve spent hours hashing out solutions, back-to-back with lawyers and executives. I’m running on fumes, fueled by caffeine and frustration, and I’ve barely had a moment to breathe.
Leaving Bermuda was the last thing I wanted to do. Walking away from Brooke from Cari, from paradise itself to deal with this mess? It grates on me.
Friday night, and I’m finally stepping out to grab something to eat. A quick sandwich will have to do before we dive into yet another session. My phone buzzes, and I glance at the screen.
Update me ASAP.
It’s a message from my father. Short, clipped, and predictable.
“Will do when I’m out of here, old man,” I mutter, slipping my phone back into my pocket, but not answering his text.
***
The weekend blurs into a haze of arguments, spreadsheets, and strategy sessions. By Sunday night, the pieces have finally fallen into place. The acquisition is saved, the regulators placated, and the deal secured.
I sit in my hotel room, leaning back in the chair, staring at the city lights through the window. My phone rings, and of course it’s my father.
“It’s all sorted,” I say as soon as I pick up. “You don’t need to worry about a thing.”
“I knew you’d figure it out.” My father’s voice is as detached as ever. “When are you heading back?”
“Tomorrow morning, after the final meeting.”
“Good. But don’t forget—there’s a golf game at Seminole tomorrow afternoon. You need to be there.”
“I’m not going,” I reply flatly.
“It’s networking. Business. Visibility. You should be there.”
My jaw tightens. “I need to get back to my daughter.”
His laugh is sharp, cutting. “Since when are you in such a rush to see Brooke?”
“That’s not fair,” I snap, trying to keep my voice even. “The whole reason I brought her to Bermuda was to spend time with her.”
“Is that so? Are we talking about Brooke or someone else?”
The insinuation lands like a slap, and my stomach tightens.
“My daughter. Your granddaughter,” I grind out.
There’s a pause, then his voice drops into that calculated tone I’ve despised my entire life. “Have you given any thought to my proposal?”
“What proposal?”
“The email about the Brazilian heiress.”
My grip tightens on the phone. “I was going to get back to you about that once I return. I need time to think.”
“Good,” he says smoothly. “She’s perfect for you. Wealthy, connected, and smart. You might not love her, and she might not love you—but that’s fine. You can have an open marriage, as long as no one finds out.”
The words slam into me, leaving me momentarily speechless.
“What?” I can’t believe what I’m hearing.
“You can still have your fun, Jett.” His tone is as casual as if he’s discussing stock options. “Mistresses, lovers—whatever you want. Just keep it quiet. It’s how these things are done.”
Just like he did with my mother.
Anger surges through me, sharp and visceral. “I don’t do that shit. When I give my heart, I give it. Completely.”
“Let’s not get overly sentimental,” he replies, his voice cold. “A heart is just a muscle. Nothing more.”
I push to my feet, pacing the room. My hand grips the phone so tightly I half expect it to crack. “I need to go,” I say through gritted teeth.
“Don’t forget the golf game,” he reminds me before I hang up.
I toss the phone onto the bed and lean against the dresser, staring at my reflection in the mirror.
“I’m not you,” I say quietly, the words aimed at the ghost of Paul Knight staring back at me.
I slip on my jacket, smoothing down the lapels.
I’m not him. I’ll never be him. I’ll never treat a woman the way he treated my mother. I’d rather burn everything I’ve built than become Paul Knight’s shadow.
With one last glance at the mirror, I grab my keys and head for the door.
CARI
I sit cross-legged inside the makeshift tent, fairy lights casting a soft glow on the canvas walls.
“This all looks absolutely delicious,” I declare, holding up the battered reading book Brooke has handed me as a menu.
Brooke adjusts her tiny apron and stands in front of me, all business. “What would you like to order?”
“Pizza with salad, please,” I reply, trying to match her serious tone.
She nods and scribbles something on her little notepad. I lean forward to peek, but her spelling is anyone’s guess.
“And would you like something to drink with that?” she asks, her tiny brows furrowing in concentration.
“Raspberry lemonade would be perfect.”
She writes it down carefully, her lips moving as she tries to sound it out. “Coming right up!” she announces, spinning on her heel and disappearing out of the tent.
I glance around at the scene she’s created. She’s laid out a mat in the middle of the floor, complete with plastic knives, forks, and mismatched plates. Elephant sits loyally beside me, and the dolls—clearly her regular customers—look perfectly content with their empty plates.
This is delightful.
It doesn’t feel like babysitting, or work, or any of the countless duties I’ve had to juggle over the years. This feels like belonging. Like, for the first time in a long time, I’m not drifting aimlessly.
My mom’s absence used to feel like an endless void. But now ... now I feel a sliver of something I haven’t felt in a while. A connection. A place.
Jett once told me I was never alone.
An unbidden thought of him sneaks in as I stare at my pretend fellow diners, waiting for Brooke to return.
He called last night, his deep voice vibrating through the phone and settling low in my chest. I could listen to him talk for hours. He said he’d be back sometime this afternoon, but something came up and he’s still dealing with the “loose ends.”
I miss him.
Brooke does too, though I’ve done my best to keep her occupied. Yesterday, I took her to the park and invited Celine to join us, but her daughter had gone into the hospital to give birth, so Zara came instead.
The girls had the best time. We came home to a picnic in the garden and an afternoon of splashing in the water.
Today, we’ve been in and out of the pool and the sea, soaking up the sun and keeping busy. It’s been wonderful but exhausting. Still, the moment I’m alone at night, when Brooke is fast asleep, my thoughts drift back to Jett.
His voice, even over the phone, ignites something in me. It’s not just arousal—though that’s undeniable. It’s him. His presence. His steadiness. His intensity. The memories of us together aren’t fantasies anymore. They’re real, tangible, and etched into my mind. But he’s not here yet, and it’s now late evening. I know we won’t see him tonight.
That leaves me with time to think. Too much time.
Celine’s words echo in my mind, her gentle warnings about Jett’s family, about Paul Knight’s controlling ways. About protecting my heart. I know she’s right to worry, but I don’t want to dwell on it.
Instead, I let myself think about something Jett mentioned last night. He suggested we go away for a few days after he gets back. Just the three of us and the bodyguard.
I laughed when he said that.
But I’m secretly thrilled about it—having time away from everyone on a small private island.
It’s not the physical side that I miss, though that’s part of it. I miss him. I want to lie in his arms, talk to him, and be with him—body and soul. The lines have blurred so beautifully, so seamlessly. It doesn’t feel messy—it feels like something new and wonderful, like we’re weaving the threads of our lives together.
I don’t want this to end.
“Here you go, ma’am!” Brooke’s cheerful voice snaps me out of my thoughts.
She hands me an empty plate with a flourish. “One pizza with salad, just for you. Can I get you anything else?”
“This looks divine.” I take a pretend bite from my invisible pizza. “Hmm, delicious! Thank you, Brooke.” I pat the space beside me. “Why don’t you have some with me?”
“I can’t,” she giggles. “I’m the waitress!”
“Surely waitresses need to eat?”
“Nope!” she declares. “But you can share with Elephant. He wanted pizza too.”
I smile as I feed Elephant a piece of the invisible pizza. Brooke’s forgotten all about the dolls, but it doesn’t matter. Her joy is infectious. And for now, in this moment, I can pretend the rest of the world doesn’t exist.
Eliana calls me later once I’ve put Brooke to bed. Her voice comes through, warm but cautious. “I’m sorry for being such a Debbie Downer when you told me about you and Jett.”
I smile at her words, even though guilt pricks at me. I’ve been so wrapped up in everything here. “It’s okay, El. Honestly, I’m just glad we’re talking.”
“I just don’t want you to get hurt. Jett Knight has always been your Achilles heel, and I’m scared he’s going to hurt you even more. You have this huge heart, and you give it to people who don’t always deserve it.”
My chest tightens. “What’s this? A lecture? Should I be taking notes?”
“I just don’t want to see you crash and burn. I love you too much for that,” she says, exasperated but still loving.
I exhale, rubbing my hand over my brow. “I’m a grown woman. I can take care of myself.”
“You’re also vulnerable, Car,” she says, softer now. “Look at the year you’ve had. Your mom …” Her voice falters, and I feel the grief rise, sharp and raw, just like it always does when someone mentions Mom. “I just want you to be careful.”
I don’t respond right away because, honestly, what do I say? She’s not wrong. “Okay. I hear you.”
“As long as you’re having fun,” Eliana adds, a little lighter now, “and you’re leaving work soon.”
The words hit me like a splash of cold water. Am I still leaving? The answer feels less clear every day. “Yes, I am,” I say to Eliana, but inside, I’m not sure. So much has happened between me and Jett, and I don’t know what the next step is.
If there is a next step.
My stomach churns as I look toward the future. What happens when Jett and I return to the office? What if the connection between us fades, and he goes back to being the distant, demanding Jett Knight I’ve worked for all these years? Worse, what if he walks in with another tall, stunning girlfriend, someone more… Knight-worthy ?
Eliana’s voice pulls me out of my spiraling thoughts. “Has he been good to you?”
I think back to the trip here—his unexpected vulnerability, the way he’s been with Brooke, and how he’s looked at me when he thought I wasn’t paying attention. How he stood up for me to his rich friends.
“Yes,” I say, my voice soft but sure. “There’s so much about Jett you don’t know. He’s … different. More than people think.”
“He’s also driven you absolutely mad,” she quips. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten all the times you’ve ranted about him.”
“That’s true.” I laugh despite myself. “But right now? I’m happy, El. Really happy.”
“That’s all I want for you. But, you know, I still need details. The nitty-gritty. Don’t leave me hanging.”
“I'm not going to give you the nitty-gritty,” I reply, but can't help adding, “but I think you would be impressed.”
“ Impressed? What the hell did you do, Car? Give him a blow job?”
The silence stretches just long enough for her to cackle on the other end.
“Oh my God, Car, you did!” she teases.
I open my mouth to deny it, but just then, the door to my room creaks open, and Brooke’s little face pops in. “I have to go,” I blurt, my voice higher than usual. “Talk soon!” I hang up before Eliana can say another word.
Brooke steps closer, her curls bouncing as she tilts her head. “Who were you talking to?”
“Just my best friend, back home,” I say, smiling down at her as I quickly toss my phone onto the bed. But my cheeks are still burning, and I swear Brooke’s sharp little eyes notice everything.