Chapter 13 Logan
I’ve been staring out the window at the garden terrace and the ocean beyond for the last half hour in a state of numb panic.
The storm weaves through the palms. I watch them bend, the leaves whipping around, resilient and sharp. I’m sure I have emails to catch up on. Case reports, patient charts to review.
But I can’t seem to move from this spot.
I keep staring at the palm trees.
The room is beautiful, as I knew it would be.
Like the rest of the resort, it’s bright and spacious with the faint smell of clean, white linen, polished wood.
There’s a recessed sitting area with a low sectional.
A fully stocked bar cart. The bedroom and sitting room open onto a balcony overlooking the estate, and on the opposite end, a bathroom with a jacuzzi and a walk-in shower, with six shower heads and a teak bench.
But for some reason, I find myself craving the cramped, dingy motel from last night where there wasn’t enough space at all. The dark room and the tree branch scratching precariously on the window. The lumpy mattress that dipped in the middle.
And Rose in my arms.
A knock on the door draws my attention up. I cross the room slowly and open it, the pit in my stomach growing heavier when I see Pearl.
“Oh my god, darling, what a week you’ve had!
” She throws herself into my arms before I can think.
She smells like expensive floral perfume—something thick and sweet, assaulting almost—and I instantly hate it.
Before this trip, I wouldn’t have hesitated to hug her back. I’d have pulled her in tighter.
But over the last few days, Rose has quietly dismantled everything I thought I knew about Pearl, and now I can’t unsee it all.
My hand finds Pearl’s waist and I ease her off, giving her a half-pat on the back, wondering if that felt as awkward to her as it did to me. If she notices, she doesn’t say anything—she just slips past me into my room.
“I’m glad you’re here, actually,” I tell her. “We need to talk.”
She’s already at the balcony doors, waving her hand in airy dismissal.
“Can you believe this weather? You promised me a picnic, but there’s no way we can walk to the beach in this.
But there’s this gorgeous greenhouse on the east side of the property.
I already called ahead, the kitchen is putting together a basket.
” She glances down at the watch draped on her thin wrist. “If we leave now, we’ll still have plenty of time to make it before the rehearsal. ”
“Ah, I don’t know, Pearl. I just got in. I’m pretty wiped. I need to unwind, shower. Catch up on some emails.” Figure out what the fuck I’m going to do about Rose.
Her lip juts out, but only for a moment—then something shifts behind her eyes, and she’s back across the room to me, wrapping her small, manicured hands around my arms, nails digging in slightly. “Well… tonight, we could do a midnight swim instead. There’s an indoor pool. Just you and me?”
“Pearl, I—”
“Oh, Logan.” She pouts. “We never get to spend time together anymore. I miss you.” I’ve seen this woman pout a thousand times—her lower lip pursed out just so, blue eyes wide and watery, chin tilted down at that exact angle.
I’ve always reflexively felt the urge to fix whatever it was that caused her distress.
Our friends love Pearl, but they’ve never had quite the same patience for her sensitivities.
I could never explain why I did, except that she’s always reminded me a little of my mother, who also adores Pearl.
They go on shopping trips together, have high tea at The Baccarat.
Since Pearl started her event planning business, she’s been bending my mother’s ear to get introductions to the charity circuit.
My mother comes from old money, and her parents had strict expectations of her.
She spent her early twenties locked into an abusive arranged marriage with an oil tycoon before she finally left, and still, after all these years in a loving and stable relationship with my father, something in her never quite healed.
She moves through life as though she’s still bracing for that next blow.
Small and delicate, she’s fragile in a way that instinctively makes you want to shelter her—and I suppose Pearl has always reminded me of that.
A woman who had been wronged. Easily breakable.
But right now, all I see are her lies.
There are so many things in my head, I don’t even know where to start. The picture she sent me seems insignificant now, next to the fact that I apparently nearly gutted Rose’s career by signing something I never even bothered to read.
Pearl drifts to the bar cart and lifts the Blanton’s. She knows it’s my favorite. She knows a lot of things like that about me. I watch her pour two fingers and wonder how much I really know about her.
She turns with the glass extended. I don’t reach for it. I don’t even know where to begin, but I just can’t hold it in any longer. Not any of it.
“What was with that picture, Pearl?”
She frowns, arm still outstretched with the glass. When she realizes I’m not taking it, she takes a sip herself. “What are you talking about?”
“The picture you sent me. Of yourself in that dress.”
Her face lights up. “Oh!” Her hand comes to her chest—not seductive, exactly, but her fingers linger there. There’s a look on her face I can’t quite decipher. “You didn’t respond. Did you like it?”
“Pearl, the picture was a little…”
“A little what?” she asks innocently.
“Your nipples were—” I gesture my hand. I can’t believe I have to spell this out. “On display.”
“What are you talking about?” She snickers. “Don’t be ridiculous. The dress is a little risque, I just wanted a second opinion.”
I roll my eyes, then walk to the bar cart, pouring my own drink. “And you couldn’t ask Harlow?”
“Why are you making such a big deal about this?”
“You have a boyfriend, for starters.”
“Tommy is—” She shakes her head, pressing her lips together. “I don’t think things are going to work out between Tommy and me.”
“Isn’t that why you sent me the picture? For him? You said it was to make sure he’d like it.”
Her big blue eyes sparkle. “Maybe I just wanted a man’s opinion on the dress.”
“We’re not the kind of friends who send each other nudes, Pearl.”
She laughs, throwing her head back. For just a split second, it reminds me of the way Rose laughs. Pearl’s usually so buttoned up, she never lets her emotions get big, so it surprises me.
“That was hardly a nude, Logan. Seriously, when did you become such a prude?”
When, indeed? Maybe she’s right. Maybe I am overreacting about the picture.
But that doesn’t change all the other lies.
The Resilience Project. I need to ask her about it.
But once I do, I’ll learn the truth. And I’ll have to face what I’ve done.
My anger at her, at myself, it claws around my throat, and I can’t get the words out.
“Pearl,” I try again, but there’s another bang on the door. She makes an annoyed sound in her throat and goes to answer it.
“Hey! You finally made it!” Griffin is first through the door, a wide grin splitting his face, showing off his dimples.
He has the mischievous look and demeanor of the boy next door—and if you factor out the weed, occasional cocaine binge, booze, and the rotating cast of women, that’s more or less what he is.
He takes very little seriously, and you’d never guess he’s actually the older brother to Reign, who files in after him—spine straight, jaw set, nearly blank expression on his face—followed by our friend Harlow.
Griffin drops onto the couch and throws his legs up on the coffee table with a thud, crossing them at the ankles like he owns the place.
“What took you so long?” He tilts his head at me, squinting.
“Heard something happened with the plane?”
“Apparently it went down,” Pearl says, arms crossed, cutting a glance at me. I told her there were mechanical issues.
“Where’d you hear that?” I ask, more sharply than intended.
“I stopped by to see Rosaria.”
“How is she?”
Pearl’s eyes narrow, and she ignores my question. “Are you going to explain why you didn’t tell any of us you were in a plane crash?”
“A fucking plane crash?” Harlow shouts.
Griffin sits up straighter on the couch. “Holy shit, man, why didn’t you tell us?”
I wave my hand as if it’s no big deal. “Forced landing. Everyone’s fine. We came down somewhere in West Virginia, spent a while tracking down a rental. Rose wasn’t ready to get back on a plane, so we drove the rest of the way.”
“Is Henry alright?” Reign asks. Their family also employs the pilot, so he’s familiar with the crew.
“He’s fine. No one was hurt—well, Rose got a cut, but nothing serious. Plane’s done, though.”
Griffin goes back to his phone. No one was seriously injured or died, so he’s lost interest. “Tough break. You can fly back with us, but we’re not leaving until Tuesday.
Gonna party on the mainland for a night before heading back.
I know you workaholic types itch to get back to the office, and the second Pearl clears you from groomsman duties, you’re gonna be half-way to New York. ”
“Don’t you dare,” Pearl cuts in, squeezing my arm. “We finally got him here. No one is talking about work.” She glares at Griffin. “He’s staying the entire time. And maybe one day later?” She looks to me hopefully.
Ignoring her plea, I drop into one of the tufted silk chairs. Pearl settles onto the arm, close enough that her hip is almost in my lap. I look at the empty seat across from me, then back at Pearl.
“Where’s Dash?” I ask, noticing the sixth member of our friend group is conspicuously absent.
“He’s bangin’ some island chick,” Griffin says.
“Nice,” Harlow deadpans. She looks at me. “He got here a little early and met this girl the first night. They’ve been inseparable ever since. It’s actually really sweet. I like her. She’s good for him. Even if it’s just for the week.”
“Dash, inseparable from a woman he just met?” I shake my head in surprise. The man is more of a workaholic than I am—and unlike me, he can work from anywhere. I’d have expected to find him hunched over a laptop this week, not tangled up with a woman he just met.
“Can you blame him? If I got my hands on some island pussy like her, I’d be inseparable too,” Griffin says, grabbing his crotch suggestively. Harlow smacks the back of his head, and Griffin cackles, rubbing his skull. Reign looks pained by his brother’s antics, but that’s nothing new.
Pearl rolls her eyes. “He’s bringing her to the wedding.
Sunshine—that’s her name. I reshuffled the seating, so she’s at our table.
” She glances toward the balcony doors, where rain streaks the glass.
“Can you believe everyone still made it? I even had a few last-minute plus-ones to sort out. Everyone loves Daddy, of course. But I think I’ve outdone myself with this event.
” She lets out a satisfied sigh. “It’s going to be the perfect wedding. Only topped by my own.”
I think of Rose. Whether she’d let me take her to the wedding as my date. Whether I’d even have the nerve to ask after what I’ve done.
“You and Tommy that serious?” Griffin asks, brows raised.
Pearl makes a small, dismissive sound. “God, no. I wasn’t talking about him.”
Then her eyes slide to me. So do everyone else’s.
I fidget in my seat. Something shifts in the room. Like they’re all in on some secret.
Rose’s absence seems louder right now. We’ve been apart for an hour, and all I want is to drag her back to my side. I don’t want Pearl on my chair.
“It’s been a long few days. I need to catch up on some work before tonight, then shower.” I stand, and Pearl’s hand trails down my arm as I move past her.
Griffin swings his legs off the coffee table and gets to his feet, slapping me on the back. “Fine, be boring. But once you’re settled, you’re actually on vacation. I never thought I’d agree with Pearl on anything—but you need to loosen up.”
He grins and makes his way out, Reign on his heels.
Harlow pulls me into a hug. “I have missed you, old friend. I’m so glad you’re here,” she says against my cheek.
Her words make me feel guilty. Like it’s a miracle I bothered to come.
I need to make time for her, for the others, more often.
The only reason I see Pearl as much as I do is because she inserts herself into my life.
Harlow pauses by the door, waiting for Pearl.
Pearl lingers beside me, her hand finding my arm again. “Come on. Let’s just go on that picnic. Sit down together, just the two of us. We haven’t seen each other in weeks.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “No, Pearl,” I say firmly.
She falters for only a moment, and then says brightly, “Okay, grumpy. See you at rehearsal.” She leans up to kiss my cheek before I can stop her, then she and Harlow leave together.
I cross to the balcony and push the doors open. They swing out of my hand, the gust of wind that hits my face immediately. The edges of the hurricane are working the island over, and I stand there and let it punish me. The rain comes sideways, whipping into my skin like little needle pricks.
Rose doesn’t need to know what I did. What Pearl did. The role we played in her career coming down. It will crush her.
I can fix this. I can figure out a way to help her get back on her feet. I have plenty of money. She just needs money. A new investor.
I’m going to make things better for Rose from here on out. I make a decision. I go inside, get dressed, and go find her.