Chapter Twenty-Two
TWENTY-TWO
Phoebe
Living at Stonehaven has its benefits: made-to-order meals by a private chef, free rent, a million-dollar view, and Rocky.
He’s been slipping into my room to spend the nights with me. A perk we didn’t have when we were split between the loft and the boathouse. There are even days I try to convince myself that summering at the mansion in the sea is worth living three doors down from the ever-deplorable Trent Waterford.
But this morning is not one of those days.
I squint into the rising sun, watching The Ithaka float away toward the mainland. “This is getting ridiculous,” I growl out and toss my purse into the dinghy.
This is the fifth morning in a row that Trent has beat us to the boat.
We all agreed the yacht would leave the dock at seven a.m., and he’s consistently woken up earlier each and every day this week just to convince the crew to give him a private charter to the mainland.
Leaving us all to cram into the small dinghy, which is about as fun to ride in as one of those old water coasters.
My ass goes numb. My hair gets knotted to hell. And I will undoubtedly have a see-through white blouse by the end thanks to the rough waters.
Damian Bennet grimaces, equally annoyed, and his nose curls up at the dinghy as Hailey squishes in beside me. He removes his Persol sunglasses and nods back to the mansion. “I’m going to wait for The Ithaka to return.”
“Ditto.” His little brother, Sandon, follows him up the dock toward a set of winding stairs cut through the rock.
They lead to the stately front door, complete with a bronze wolf knocker.
Sometimes I remind myself that this is one of the most famous properties in Connecticut and not just a fun little vacation at a B&B.
“Anyone else coming?” Jake asks, standing up in the dinghy. He balances effortlessly, and I have to wonder how many sailing lessons he took as a kid.
Nova scowls, his face already turning a shade of green. “I puked last time. So it’s a pass.”
Oliver unpeels a piece of gum. “I thought you had that fancy-pants art dealer coming into the museum this morning.”
Nova and Oliver have been keeping up their fake personas as museum curator and small-town therapist.
My oldest brother groans, running two hands atop his head. “I’ll get Angela to fill in.”
Last week I asked if Angela was cute, and laser beams might as well have zapped out of Nova’s eyes. She’s apparently eighteen and an intern at the museum. Oops.
Oliver slips the gum into his mouth and checks his phone. “I can’t miss my eight o’clock appointment.”
Jake appraises the sky. “We need to beat the storm.” He makes a quick gesture. “Hurry.” Clouds darken ominously above us, and Oliver hops on board while blowing a bubble and popping it with his tongue. He’s as steady as can be, and I’m not shocked he squishes on the other side of Hailey.
Her nose is buried in a paperback.
Oliver slides on sunglasses, then slips a casual arm down Hailey’s shoulders, his hand hanging across her chest. She never pries her eyes off the pages, not even as she reaches up and touches his knuckles, his wrist, as if to ensure he’s really there.
Their fingers lightly brush and hook.
Jake keeps looking away, then back at them. Away, then back. Each time, his muscles flex more.
I think it’s safe to say my best friend is in a full-blown love triangle. The real kind. Not like the manufactured one between Rocky, me, and Jake. Emphasized by her admission they’ve been sleeping in the same bed this summer.
“We just sleep,” she explained. “I mean, they do things to help me sleep.” I’d known one of them was rocking her world to bed when she admitted it to her doctor. I did not know it was plural.
“They?” I almost choked on my pancake that morning.
The two of us were eating breakfast alone in the dining room before our shift at the club.
I swigged some cranberry juice. “Like together? At the same time?” I hesitated to ask further, because one of the guys is my brother.
But curiosity can really kill since it did not stop me.
“No.” She stirred brown sugar into her oatmeal. “But maybe…I don’t know. Sometimes one will watch me get off, but I think they’re watching each other, too.”
“Like a stare-down?”
“Kind of, yeah.”
“Hailey motherfucking Tinrock.” I practically sang her name. I stood up and applauded. “Two guys are getting off fighting over you. You know what this means?”
She smiled a little. “I’m a mess. To never be replicated.”
“You have swiped your V-card.”
“Swiped that a long time ago, Phebs.” I still can’t believe Oliver was the one who did the swiping.
“V for vixen,” I clarified. “And you say you’re all brains. You are a very hot, very desirable catch that two men are trying to pluck from the sea.”
“Which might be why I’m in this predicament.” She pointed her spoon at her flat belly. No bump yet. “It is kind of nice though,” she said in thought.
I sank back in my chair. “Getting off times two?”
“Being cared for…” She swirled her oatmeal again. “Being loved.”
It was then that I realized this wasn’t some wild summer fling, a romance meant to last one dizzying season. “I like that part, too. Of being with Rocky,” I said quietly, and we shared a smile.
Her Mystic Pizza life in Connecticut is turning out to be as drama filled and complex as mine, but maybe it’s how it was always supposed to be for us. Twisted, messy, and so far out of the ordinary.
On the dinghy, I catch Oliver looking over at Jake. He stares at him for even longer than I think Jake realizes. I know they both want what’s best for Hailey. Beyond that, I really have no clue what they’re thinking.
Jake ensures no one else waits for the dinghy ride, then unties the rope from the cleats on the dock.
Trevor Tinrock sleeps until noon, so he’s not boarding, and Rocky always manages to have his BFF tell him the yacht’s “amended” departure time. He’d clue us in if it wouldn’t blow brownie points with Trent.
Hailey flips a page in the paperback. Reading is her go-to boat distraction. This bumpy, ass-numbing ride can’t be easy while she’s sixteen weeks pregnant. But to keep her secret, she hasn’t made it a big deal. So of course, I try to at least help my best friend where I can.
“Jake?” I call out as he starts the motor. “Could we try to keep this gentle, perhaps?”
He looks at me like I’ve lost it. “We’re going to be lucky we make it before the skies open up.”
Great. Awesome.
I locate the nearest life preservers and hope for the best.
—
Arriving at Victoria Country Club in a soaked blouse from seawater and rain can’t be demeaning if the owner of the club arrived in the same fashion. Half the guests and staff drool over Jake’s carved abs, on full display as his wet shirt molds to his chest.
He’s too hurried to even notice, disappearing toward the men’s locker room in a flash. With the women’s locker room out of order due to some mold issue, Hailey and I end up in the bathroom trying to dry out our blouses under the hand dryers.
She bites the end of her thumbnail.
It’s hard to tell what’s distressing her when it could be so many different things, and I ache to just take one thing off her plate. I can’t, obviously, carry the baby for her, so that leaves the thing I’m good at. The thing that I’m trained to do.
“Hails,” I say over the whoosh of the hand dryer. “What’s the fruit this week?”
She glances down at her stomach. Still no pooch. “An avocado,” she tells me. “I-I think I’m going to start showing in a couple weeks. According to the internet at least.” She removes her lip piercings in the mirror, then tucks them into her pants pocket.
“Let’s talk work.”
“Work or work-work?”
“Work-work.” I refer to the con job, and I twist my head a little just to triple-check no one is in the stalls before I ask, “What part is stressing you out?”
“Trent keeps asking me about Oliver. Like…teasing me about him.” Asshole. “And Rocky said I need to show disinterest in the whole conversation, but it’s hard.” She sighs at the hand dryer. “Even if I pretend to read a book, I still feel my face get red. I can’t turn that off.”
“You and my brother hid a romance from us for years. You’re experts.”
“We hid that we were hooking up,” she counters. “What’s happening now feels different…” Her cheeks redden. “I’m blushing, aren’t I?”
I shake my head. “No. You’re ghostly.”
“Liar. There are mirrors all around us, Phebs.”
“I can’t help myself. Lying is in my DNA,” I say, and we both smile together.
Hers vanishes into a wave of nerves. “I worry Trent won’t even want to propose if he thinks I’m in love with someone else. Then I worry that if he does propose, he won’t believe I want to be his wife if I’m in love with another man.”
“You’re way overthinking this.”
“It’s what I do.” The whoosh suddenly stops, and Hailey slams a hand at the button to restart the dryer for me. Her platinum hair frizzes around her face.
“Not anymore,” I declare, keeping my shirt under the dryer. “You need to stay in the moment. Not bunny-hop twenty steps ahead of us and obsess over all the different outcomes. Okay, think about Trent having gangrene on his penis when you’re around him. That is your mission.”
“To visualize Trent’s decaying dick?”
“Yes.” I nod heartily.
She laughs. “That might work.” After a deep breath, she sways back into the sink with a faraway smile. She’s blushing again.
“Oliver?” I ask.
“Jake.” Hailey grips the sides of the sink. “You know that two-tenant rule he had for the loft? The one he was adamant about us obeying when we first moved in?”
“I remember.” Jake had been a major stickler for the rules upon our arrival.