7. Clive
Clive
"T here you are," Jack's voice carries across the deck, heavy with sleep and irritation. "I've been looking everywhere for you."
Rebecca straightens her posture, smile number eleven appearing—but this one doesn't reach her eyes. "Just enjoying the sun. How's your head?"
"Killing me," he grumbles, dropping into the lounger on Becca's other side.
He's wearing expensive swim trunks and designer sunglasses, his hair still mussed from sleep. "Dad, got any of those hangover pills you always travel with?"
I bite back a correction about the "Dad" title—a manipulation he only employs when he wants something. "In my toiletry bag. Medicine cabinet."
He makes no move to get up and just stretches out dramatically. "Bec, would you mind? You're already up."
I watch Rebecca's expression flicker for a millisecond before she sets her book down. "Sure." She stands, adjusting her bikini bottom in a way that forces me to look away.
"And maybe some coffee?" Jack calls after her as she pads toward the sliding door. "The strong stuff, not that weak shit you like to make."
When she's gone, Jack turns to me with bloodshot eyes. "So, what were you two talking about for so long?"
"Books," I say simply, finishing my drink.
He snorts. "God, she can be so boring sometimes. Always with her nose in a book."
I set my glass down with more force than necessary. "I find her quite interesting, actually."
"Yeah, well, you would." He stretches again, oblivious to my irritation. "You're both nerds."
I bite my tongue, reminding myself that engaging with Jack's childishness never ends well. Instead, I stand and walk to the infinity pool's edge, looking out at the Caribbean. The water is particularly blue today, stretching endlessly toward the horizon.
"Your mother mentioned you have something planned for this trip," I say carefully, my back still to him.
"Maybe," he says noncommittally. "What's it to you?"
I turn to face him. "Rebecca is a remarkable woman. Intelligent, kind, ambitious."
Jack pushes his sunglasses up into his hair, squinting at me suspiciously. "What's your point?"
"My point is that she deserves someone who recognizes those qualities." I meet his gaze steadily. "Someone who treats her accordingly."
His expression darkens. "Are you seriously giving me relationship advice? After your disaster of a marriage to my mother?"
"Perhaps because of it," I counter. "I know what happens when two people who aren't right for each other stay together out of obligation or convenience."
"You don't know anything about me and Becca," he says, voice rising slightly.
"I know that I just witnessed you send her to fetch pills and coffee when you're perfectly capable of getting them yourself."
He laughs, but there's no humor in it. "Oh my god. Are you seriously getting all worked up because I asked my girlfriend to grab me something? That's what couples do, Clive. They help each other out."
"Is that what you call it?" I can feel my temper rising, which rarely happens outside the boardroom.
Jack's eyes narrow. He's not as stupid as he sometimes pretends to be. "What exactly are you implying?"
I take a deep breath, forcing my voice to remain even. "I'm not implying anything. I'm stating outright that relationships should be balanced."
"Like you would know." He swings his legs over the side of the lounger, sitting up to face me fully. "You think I don't see what's happening here? The way you look at her?"
My heart rate picks up, but I keep my expression neutral. "I look at Rebecca like anyone would look at someone they respect."
"Bullshit." His voice is low, dangerous. "You're practically salivating over my girlfriend, old man. It's pathetic."
I clench my jaw, refusing to rise to the bait. "This conversation is over, Jack."
"Is it? Because I think we should get everything out in the open." He stands, moving closer to me. Despite being several inches shorter, he attempts to look intimidating. "You've always undermined me. At work, with my mother, and now with Becca."
The sliding door opens again, and Rebecca appears with a bottle of pills and a steaming mug. She freezes, sensing the tension.
"Everything okay out here?" she asks, her eyes darting between us.
"Fine," Jack says, his demeanor changing instantly as he turns to her with a practiced smile. "Thanks, babe. You're the best." He takes the coffee and pills, leaning in to kiss her cheek. Over her shoulder, he gives me a pointed look.
I force myself to relax my posture. "I was just telling Jack I'm heading down to check on the boats for tomorrow."
Rebecca's eyes light up. "For our early snorkeling trip?"
Jack's head snaps toward her. "What snorkeling trip?"
"Oh," she says, suddenly flustered. "Clive offered to take me out early before the fishing trip tomorrow morning. To see the reef at sunrise."
Jack's expression darkens. "Did he now?"
"It's no big deal," she says quickly. "You'll still be sleeping off... this." She gestures to the pills and coffee.
"Actually," Jack says, overly casual, "I think I'll join you. I love sunrise activities."
I almost laugh at the blatant lie. In fifteen years, I've never known Jack to voluntarily wake up before nine.
"Are you sure?" Rebecca asks, clearly surprised. "You hate early mornings."
"Not when it comes to spending time with you." He wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her close in a gesture that feels more possessive than affectionate. "Besides, I wouldn't want to miss out on private time with my girlfriend and my ex-stepdad. Sounds like a blast."
Rebecca looks uncomfortable. "If you're sure..."
"Absolutely," Jack says firmly. "We'll make it a family affair," Jack says, voice dripping with sarcasm. "What time should I set my alarm?"
"Five-thirty," I reply, enjoying how his smug expression falters momentarily. "The light's best at dawn."
Rebecca's smile is genuine now, directed at me. "I can't wait. I brought my underwater camera."
"Perfect," I say, allowing myself to return her smile. The warmth in her eyes makes something in my chest tighten.
Jack downs the pills with a gulp of coffee, grimacing. "Anyway, Bec, I thought we could get dressed tonight and have dinner, just the two of us on the beach."
I immediately recognize the diversion tactic. A private dinner means Jack can monopolize Rebecca's time, keeping her away from me.
"Oh," Rebecca says, looking surprised but pleased. "That sounds nice. Is that allowed?" She glances at me uncertainly. "I mean, it's your house, Clive. I don't want to be rude."
"My house is yours while you're here," I say smoothly. "Besides, I have some work calls to make tonight."
"Always working," Jack mutters. "Some vacation."
"Running a global company doesn't stop because I'm in Cozumel," I reply evenly. "Some of us take our responsibilities seriously."
Jack's jaw tightens, but Rebecca steps in before he can respond. "Well, I think it's admirable," she says. "The dedication, I mean. Jack told me you built your company from scratch."
"He certainly likes to remind everyone of that," Jack says, his tone bitter. "Self-made billionaire and all that."
I ignore him, focusing on Rebecca instead. "It wasn't easy, but I had good people around me."
"Like my mother," Jack adds pointedly. "Who you then divorced after she helped you build your empire."
Rebecca shifts uncomfortably, clearly sensing the tension rising again.
"Your mother and I had different priorities," I say carefully. "Sometimes relationships run their course."
"How philosophical," Jack sneers. "Maybe save the wisdom for your TED Talk."
Rebecca places a hand on Jack's arm. "Hey, let's not?—"
"It's fine," I interrupt, not wanting her to feel responsible for mediating. "I'm going to check those boats."
I walk away, feeling Jack's glare burning into my back. As I reach the stone steps leading down to the private dock, I hear Rebecca's voice, soft but firm: "You don't have to be so hard on him, Jack. He's been nothing but kind to us."
"Oh please," Jack replies, loud enough for me to hear. "He's only being 'kind' to you because he wants to get in your?—"
I move out of earshot deliberately, not wanting to hear the rest. The sun beats down on my shoulders as I descend toward the water, a headache forming behind my eyes that has nothing to do with the heat.