Chapter Eighteen #2
“Exactly.” I focus on the chef flipping burgers off a griddle in the truck.
“My sister isn’t the marriage type. It’s not you.
It’s her. The one thing I do know about Hailey, she’s not going to settle down.
It’d be a miracle if you could even get her in on this.
Especially since you don’t need to sleep with her.
You just need to be legally married.” I collect my blue cheese sliders from the chef, letting Trent ponder this on his own.
I hand him his paper tray of mini burgers. “You good?”
“You want to bet on it?” He extends a steady palm, staring me straight in the eye.
“What exactly?”
“That I’m going to be the richest man in Victoria.”
Too easy.
Manipulating him has never been hard. He’s just ego and vanity. Withstanding him has taken untapped patience, but things are changing this summer.
After I shake his hand, accepting this bet—we put twenty grand on it—he chooses to watch the movie on the blanket beside Hailey. I gladly take the spot beside my ex-wife. Phoebe grinds out a smile at me, leans her shoulder into mine, and most of the town can see.
We’re steadily moving from “exes who are friends” to “exes who might be dating.” Trent—he’s hating every second of this movie.
Hailey is whispering to him about baseball. From the physics, velocity of pitches, to the material of the balls, to the twenty-seven times the Yankees won the World Series. To the point where the vein in his temple throbs. He side-eyes her like she’s an insect crawling inside his ear canal.
When he steals my attention, he points at my sister like she’s a defective toy he can’t play with, and I shrug at him like Told you it’s impossible, man.
Trent loves to chase after what he can’t have. He never listens to the word no. He hates being told, You can’t. His entitled response in every scenario is I will.
I can see his brain circling over the words now: I will get Hailey Thornhall to marry me.
The movie on the green is just the start of me stoking his desire for the Wolfe fortune and Hailey playing hard to get. By Wednesday, a sunset cocktail cruise has Trent downing whiskey shots to entertain Hailey’s rambling energy.
I’m never far. Trent likes when I appear and cut in on their conversation. I take pleasure in his twisting scowl and annoyed glances. He’s short with Hailey, then tries to apologize. Poorly.
He can’t pretend to like her. Not even with billions and his pride on the line. At the end of the night, he ditches Hailey to go flirt with the stewardesses.
“I’m losing him,” she whispers to me.
“No, you aren’t,” I say into my sip of bourbon. “You aren’t supposed to sleep with him.” Even uttering the words makes me want to empty my stomach over the bow.
“He’s going to get tired of the chase.”
“He won’t. Trust me, don’t act like you want him, Hails.”
She still hasn’t noticed Oliver keeping an eye on her from the upper deck. He parties with Collin Falcone and Trent’s laundry list of part-time friends. The two of us being so ingrained in Trent’s social circle isn’t just helpful; it’s vital.
In town, Oliver, Collin, Trent, and I are still dubbed the Fortunate Four (stupid). Trent acts like he’s far above the moniker but will bring it up to bag out-of-towners everyone calls “skunks” (also stupid) like we’re wealthy celebrities.
We party late into the night.
I stay away from the girls. From the booze. Trent would prefer I partake with him, but I cite work. He believes I’m employed by the CIA.
The real reason, of course, is Phoebe.
It’s not the first sunset cocktail cruise Trent invites Hailey to. The second and third, she rejects.
He’s never been shot down by someone who’s slept with the VCC bartender, valet, and not to mention, “That ugly fuck, what’s his name?”
“Clark,” I tell him. “The pool guy.”
I hope this is making him toss and turn on his sweaty fucking pillow every single night.
He storms into Stonehaven most evenings and drowns his failings in Varrick’s liquor cabinet.
He’s never been such a loser (he’s always been a fucking loser), and I twist the knife inch by inch, reminding him he should’ve never bet me.
I’m going to win.
“You’re sadistic,” Phoebe tells me when I sneak into her bedroom.
“It’s turning you on.”
“Not even.”
“I’d believe you more if you weren’t the Cheshire fucking Cat right now.”
She crosses her arms on the bed, barely able to hide her smile with a scowl. “You’re taking so much enjoyment from tormenting him.” Phoebe teases me every time I rehash Trent’s bitchy little breakdowns.
It’s a great summer. (So far. I’m not getting ahead of myself.)
Bolstered by the fact that Trent knows, actively knows, I’m pursuing my ex-wife, and I remind him he doesn’t want Phoebe anyway. He should be going after the billions.
Trent isn’t tossing in the towel. His fragile little ego is now at stake.
Since Hailey won’t integrate herself in his social circle, he begins showing up to hers. He attends the quirky town events he so very much detests, bringing me, Oliver, and Collin along. The town is buzzing as the Trent Koning Waterford becomes more of a day bird instead of an elusive night owl.
Could he have his eye on a girl?
My little brother gets Sidney to publish theories about Trent looking for love in her gossip column. He’s ready to move on from his late wife and the grief of losing his beloved mother as he becomes more active in the community.
At the lobster roll fest, Trent asks Hailey on a formal date.
She crinkles her nose. “I don’t date.”
He lets out an incredulous laugh. “What does that mean?”
She pops a piece of lobster in her mouth. “I like to just do my own thing.”
“She’s too good for you, Trent,” Phoebe notes.
“Oh, is that right, Phoebe?” Trent mocks back.
I shoot him a glare from behind his head, then mouth to Phoebe, Knock it off.
She’s drawing his attention in the wrong direction. Hailey licks her thumb and just leaves his side to go read her book. She finds a seat on a bench, places her lobster roll down, and cracks open the paperback.
He shields the sun with his hand. “Why don’t you put a good word in for me with your friend, Phoebe?”
“Why don’t you go choke on a twelve-inch lobster roll?”
I rub my lips to keep from smiling. She notices it and smiles over at me. Trent spins to open his stance up, eyeing me and her like he’s missed something. That’s not good. He must never be the butt of a joke. Me and her—we’re getting a little sloppy.
It becomes more apparent during the Cardboard Boat Regatta—a fundraiser for the science college at Caufield.
From the harbor at the Mariner’s Club, Trent and I watch makeshift cardboard floats head into the sea with students voraciously paddling, and he tells me, “I don’t think Phoebe’s good for you. ”
I’m casual, interested but not concerned enough to be suspicious. “You’d rather she date Jake?”
He slips me a Be serious look. “You should just be single with me this summer, Grey.”
“You’re trying not to be single,” I remind him. “How’s that working out for you?”
He casts a real glare to shut the fuck up.
“I’m joking.” (I’m not.) “Relax, man. Maybe the easiest way to get Hailey on board with this thing is to actually tell her the plan. Bring her in on it. She could want the money, too.”
“I don’t trust that she won’t tell Phoebe or Jake’s staff at the fucking club. My baby brother finds out, and he might be able to use it as leverage against me in some of this legal shit. It’s too much of a risk.”
Gradually, Hailey begins integrating herself in Trent’s friend group at my insistence as his best friend. I’ve done him a solid. He’s happy.
Hooray.
Oliver stops snorting so much coke. He’s not high when he’s around Hailey during the several midnight yacht parties she attends with us. He pretends to do several lines with Collin. No one notices he’s faking but me and her.
“You want some, Hailey?” Oliver offers her the coke while we’re seated around a coffee table in the main saloon.
To which she declines. “I’ll pass.”
He blows her a playful kiss, and this is where shit goes a little sideways. Trent sees Hailey gazing at Oliver for an extended beat. He sees the crimson ascend her neck to her cheeks into a noticeable flush.
“Do you like him?” Trent laughs like it’s a schoolgirl crush.
Oliver grins at her. “You have a thing for me?”
“Not really, no.” She picks at the label on her beer and chews her pierced lip. Her nervous eyes shift to me.
Hailey.
My muscles burn as I actively ignore her. I bail her out another way. “We should do a round.” I grab the tequila off the table.
Hailey clutches the neck of a beer. One she hasn’t taken a real sip of. I’m aware of how she’s been refusing all alcohol this summer. Like it’s better for the job if she stays sober.
Maybe that’s true. Or maybe it’s something else.
Collin smacks Oliver’s chest. “Dude, she’s so into you. Look at her.”
Oliver plays it off with a trained laugh and smirks at Hailey like she’s just another girl at another party we all attend. No one special.
Hailey bursts into sudden tears.
Fuck.
Oliver’s smile vanishes in an instant. Because those are real tears. Real guttural emotion.
“I-I can’t be here,” Hailey stammers, and I rise with her at the same time as Trent. He’s shooting me looks to back off. This is his time to intervene while my sister is vulnerable. I am not to intercept him.
“Hailey!” Oliver calls after her. “Wait!”
She swings back around, dabbing at her contorting face as heavy tears keep streaming. Smudged mascara streaks her cheeks like rubbed charcoal. “I…s-sorry,” she hiccups.
“Come here, my little freak.” Trent opens his arms to her in preparation for a bear hug, and he’ll swing her around in a circle like they’re best fucking friends.
My stride is lengthy to my sister, especially as she recoils at Trent. Mesh sleeves in her hands, she raises them to her face. And thank God she says, “Grey.”
I bypass Trent and tell him, “I’m going to bring her back to Stonehaven. Don’t wait up for us.”
“I can come—”
“N-no,” she sobs.
I mouth to him, Let me talk to her.
Trent crosses his arms but nods. “Hey, Hailey. You need anything, you have my number, yeah?”
“Double fudge,” I tell him. “Her favorite ice cream.”
Trent says he’ll pick a pint up for her, and as I swoop an arm over Hailey and help her off the docked yacht, we trek along the harbor.
Sailboats, catamarans, dinghies sway lazily in the bay.
Moonlight sparkles on the water and brightens our path to the private dock.
The one we use to go to and from Stonehaven.
I keep my arm around my sister, and the only time she somewhat calms down is when she says, “D-double fudge. That’s your favorite.”
She’s still crying.
“Making him my errand bitch is my third-favorite thing about this summer.”
Hailey sniffs harder, her reddened eyes lifting to me. “First one is Phoebe.”
“Yeah,” I murmur. It’s always Phoebe. Being with her in any capacity. On the job or off the job, real or fake—I love it all.
Hailey rubs her fist on her mascara-smudged cheek. “What’s the second?”
“Spending more time with my sister.”
Her head jerks up at me in surprise.
“Yeah, you. It’s not often we run jobs this closely, and you’re making my time being that fucker’s friend a vacation.”
Her chin quivers. “Even if I screwed up tonight? M-maybe I’m not cut out for this after all.”
“You’ve been doing great.” I stop her near a racing sailboat named Sunny Daze so she can catch her breath. Her back to the sea and the moon, she keeps scrubbing at her cheeks and muttering, “Stop crying, stop crying.”
I almost wish Phoebe were here to comfort my sister in ways I know she needs.
“Hailey, just breathe,” I say, not nicely. I smear a hand down my face. My phone is buzzing in my pocket. I check the text off my burner at my hip.
(OLIVER): she ok?
I send him a thumbs-up. “He’s asking about you.”
“Olly?”
I nod and raise my brows at her. “Is it complicated now? You and him and Jake?”
She nods more vigorously. “Yeah.” She chews her lip again, then stares out at the twinkling light reflecting off the water. “I’m not used to Oliver pretending with me. Back there”—she motions to Trent’s yacht—“I just lost it when he acted like I meant…”
“Like you meant nothing?”
She breaks into another sob.
I clutch her arm. “Hailey, it’s pretend. Exactly what you just said. It’s not how he really feels about you.”
“Phoebe always said the lying is like foreplay and exciting, but this was just…this hurt.”
I pinch at my eyes, then let go, and use that hand to bring her into a hug. She’s very emotional over this. Her tears won’t let up.
As my sister cries into my chest, my head almost goes numb with the realization of what’s happening. Until now, I’ve never seen her struggle this hard to contain her emotion. I’ve never seen her reject alcohol for more than a couple weeks. I’ve never seen her be nauseous more than a few times.
I’ve felt as if Phoebe was hiding something from me.
Now I know why she let me draw those conclusions. There is only one person Phoebe would go that far to protect. Only one girl she loves this much to where she’d even attempt to deceive me.
It’s been for my sister.
Hailey is pregnant.
And I’m guessing she’s hormonal and upset and carrying a secret from Oliver and maybe even Jake. One so heavy that it’s making tonight harder. All I care about is making sure she’s okay.
Bringing up I’ve figured out what she has clearly intended for me not to know—not fucking helpful. I can keep my mouth shut until she’s ready.
I am…petrified for her.
I’m relieved it’s not Phoebe. Because the truth is, I never want children.
“You’re not failing, Hails,” I whisper to my sister. “You’re really doing better than you even realize.” Now, knowing what she’s been dealing with, I feel it even stronger.
She calms down a little, her hiccups receding.
“You think tonight is bad?” I ask. “I can name about five different scenarios Phoebe, Oliver, and I have been in that’d make this look like a victory lap.”
She pushes back her platinum hair and stares up at me with raccoon eyes. “I-I don’t know if I can believe that.”
“Believe me,” I profess. “I wouldn’t lie to you. Even if it’d make you feel better if I did. You know that.”
She nods.
“Did Phoebe ever tell you about Nashville?” I ask her.
“The Melon Drop?”
“That’s the one.” My throat tries to close.
“She just said that it really sucked. Bad night, but those aren’t that hard to come by.”
I nod a couple times, my gaze daggered too violently to place on my sister. I look out at the glittering sea before I can soften my eyes on Hailey. “It was one of the worst nights of my life,” I say to her. “And Phoebe’s.”