Terms + Conditions (Strangers #3)

Chapter Nine

CHAPTER NINE

NOW

ELIZABETH IS SPENDING THANKSGIVING Day alone and it’s my fault.

She’s not alone; she’s probably with Ryan , that little voice in the back of my mind reminds me.

The thought makes me sick. Pulling down the magnolia-lined driveway, the Villa-Davis house comes into view. The house sits a good half mile from the gated entrance inside the already gated community, but that isn’t uncommon for this side of our subdivision. The side where people like the Villas, the Cains, and the Madigans own homes. The house Elizabeth and I own sits on the other side of the community, in the less gaudy subsection where the houses are a little more humble. It was my one request when it came time to buy something. But it didn’t matter what side you lived on, if you lived in Meridian Hills, the rest of the town put you on a pedestal.

Nick and Nina’s house is a magnificent structure made of stone, stucco, and wood that sits on two acres of land with an unobstructed view of the lake. Nina had built the house years ago—maybe nine at this point—and Nick moved in after their courthouse wedding in New York three years ago. It sits back from the water for added privacy from the immediate shoreline down the hillside while maintaining the incredible views. The best part is they’re able to have a backyard, a pool, and a waterfront—a win-win-win in my book. Elizabeth and I don’t have a lake view, but we have a backyard and a pool, and that’s enough most days.

The driveway comes to a fork—the left leads to a three-car garage, and the right leads to an uncovered parking area where six cars are already parked. Six? That’s odd. There should only be five. Maybe Nina invited her assistant to join us. Eddie is a cool guy, a little quiet, but his timing for jokes is always spot on. I shrug it off and pull into an open spot next to the black Range Rover I don’t recognize.

Stalking toward the front door, I carry a handle of bourbon in one hand and a pecan pie in the other—I couldn’t come empty-handed. Especially not when Nina was having to spend the holiday without her sister because of me. The front door is solid black, with two large paneled windows on either side. On my left leading up to the door is a wall of windows blacked out by privacy screens; to the right, along the face of the house, more blacked-out windows behind a bench that appears like it’s more for decoration than actual use. I’m shocked the house isn’t more decorated for the holidays, usually Nina decorates the first week of November.

Before I can knock, a blonde blur races past the front door. Elizabeth . No, there’s no way, it had to have been Michaela or Eileen. Elizabeth isn’t supposed to be here.

Moments later, she returns, and I catch her attention through the side window. It is Elizabeth. She hesitates, looking toward the living area where I assume everyone else is. Wondering if she should let one of them open it. Instead, she rolls her eyes and opens the door.

“Thought you weren’t coming,” I say, wiping my feet on the rug outside and stepping across the threshold. I slip my feet out of my shoes and leave them near the others collected by the front door.

“I wasn’t.” Her response isn’t exactly rude, but it’s not very inviting, either.

“And yet, here you are.”

Dark-painted lips pull into a thin line in response to my smile. I wonder if something happened. Last I heard, she wasn’t going to be here. She didn’t have to anymore—neither of us did—our contractual obligation to be at family holidays together was now null and void.

A few days after my spontaneous drive down to Jupiter Beach, I got the first call from my sister since I left New York. She didn’t waste any time informing me that Elizabeth wouldn’t be at Thanksgiving this year and then informed me that she thought Elizabeth was seeing someone.

“Why would you think that?” I asked when she said it, muting the television.

“I just get this feeling,” Michaela said with the sounds of the city in the background. It was two o’clock on a Sunday afternoon, and since Finn was in California, I imagined she decided to go for a walk to think about things. Especially after receiving whatever news she was about to tell me.

“Did she say something?”

“No, but Nina—I don’t know. I just get this feeling.”

“What about Nina?”

“She just said something the other day, and it made it sound like Elizabeth was seeing someone.” She sighed on the other end of the line. “And, I guess, it made me realize this is really happening.”

“It’s been happening, MJ.”

“I know, but you know how it is…It’s not real until it’s real .”

You have no idea. I sighed, letting my head fall back against the couch.

“I’m sorry, Josh,” Michaela said quietly.

“Yeah, me too,” I said. We sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments until she delved into a story from the previous week. Something she had been dying to tell me, but the week was crazy, and she barely had a chance to breathe until that day. Truth be told, I don’t think she knew how to start the conversation. Was she supposed to say something about what I told her? Or was she supposed to act like everything was fine?

“Josh, finally!” Alex shouts, bringing me back to my current situation and breaking the tension between Elizabeth and me. He strolls past the double-sided stone fireplace into the foyer with a plate of random pieces of meat and cheese from the charcuterie board. “Hey, answer something for me...Would you rather—”

“No,” I interrupt him before he can even finish. I am not falling for one of his stupid scenarios where I lose either way.

“But I didn’t—”

“I don’t even want to know what you were about to say.”

Elizabeth stifles a laugh, and when I look over my shoulder, she offers a small smile. “You really don’t.”

Nina’s voice echoes from the kitchen, “Alexander Chase Davis, you better not be doing what I think you’re doing.”

Alex heaves a sigh with an exaggerated eye roll. He whispers, “She’s such a mom.”

Moments later, Nina appears around the fireplace, wiping her hands on a dish towel. A white and blue striped apron is tied around her waist. “Help your brother with the firewood, would you?” It’s less of a question and more of a command, and Alex knows it. He lets out an annoyed huff and stalks off to help Nick.

“I brought pie,” I say, raising the pie in the air when she turns back to us.

Nina offers a polite smile in return and immediately I notice she seems more tense than usual. Taking a deep breath, she says, “You can put it in the pantry with the rest of the desserts.”

She holds that polite smile and motions behind her toward the kitchen. When I don’t move, she motions with her eyes again, and I finally take the hint. She wants to have a conversation with her sister without me sticking around.

Elizabeth fiddles with one of the leaves of the fern on the entry table, avoiding my gaze.

“I’ll just go put this away then,” I say and glance back at Elizabeth one more time before stepping between them to join the others. I can feel Nina’s stare on my back the whole way to the kitchen.

“Finally,” Nick says, clapping me on the back and taking my party contributions from my hands.

“You get lost on the five-minute drive over here?” Finn asks from behind his whiskey glass.

“Or something.” I try to catch a glimpse of the women in the foyer, but the fireplace hides them from view. What I wouldn’t give to be a fly on the wall for that conversation.

“Whiskey or beer?” Nick asks, coming back from the pantry.

“Something strong,” I say, finally pulling my attention away from the fireplace. “I have a feeling I’m going to need it.”