Chapter 5
CARI
“I have things to do, babe. I need to go,” Alicia’s arm snakes around Jett’s waist, possessive and casual all at once. His arms remain folded, his body rigid like he’s holding something in.
“You want to go now?” His voice was cool, but I can’t quite read his expression from behind them. Their body language, though, tells me everything I need to know. After a few days in Monaco together, I expected them to be inseparable. Yet, the lack of any passionate, completely-in-love vibes make me wonder if all is well.
“It’s not my scene.” Alicia leans in, kissing his cheek, but her attention already seems elsewhere. “I’ve got to unpack. There’s so much to do.”
“It’s Brooke’s birthday,” Jett reminds her, his voice a little sharper, a hint of frustration slipping through. He rarely lets that mask crack, but there it is, just for a second. She only smiles then kisses his cheek again.
“Let’s take her out for dinner tonight,” she offers, brushing it off like it’s nothing. It’s not a question. It’s her solution. As if this can fix the disappointment in Brooke’s eyes. Jett doesn’t respond, and my heart twists.
I spot a little girl sitting by herself at the edge of the room, looking lost and I go over to see her.
“Hey, sweetheart. What’s wrong?” I ask softly.
“I need to go to the washroom, but I don’t know where it is,” she whispers, her big eyes full of worry.
Phew. At least it wasn’t the kids ganging up on her like I’d feared, or any drama like that. “No problem, I’ll show you.” She slides her tiny hand into mine, and I lead her out.
We reach the washroom, and bend over to her level. “There you go. I’ll wait for you right here, okay?”
She nods and disappears inside, just as the door flies open. Alicia walks in, her expression faltering when she sees me standing there.
“Oh.” She stops in her tracks and her eyes flicker with something I can’t quite place—surprise? Annoyance? She wasn’t expecting me here.
“You’re not staying?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
“It’s not my scene.” She chews her lower lip. “God, that makes me sound like the wicked stepmother, doesn’t it?” Her fingers thread through her silky dark hair. It falls perfectly over her shoulders, framing her face, softening her sharp features. All I can do is stand there and stare as envy pours over me. I wish I could look as effortlessly stunning as she does. It’s a far cry from my practical, barely-there makeup, freckled face, and frizzy hair.
Stepmother? Is there something brewing? “No, it just means you’re busy,” I offer politely. But the image of her in Monaco, lounging on a balcony in nothing but Jett’s white shirt, cuts through me like a blade. My heart twists. I wish I didn’t care so much. I wish it didn’t sting.
But it does.
And that is why I need to leave.
Someday soon.
Like next week.
I’m going to do it.
“I adore Brooke, truly,” Alicia says quickly. “She’s a sweet girl, but she won’t miss me. Besides, I have a huge case next week and it was impossible to prep for it properly while on vacation.” She gives a naughty giggle, and I immediately think of her and Jett together. They make a stunning couple, an unstoppable duo. They must turn heads wherever they go. Me? I’m a plain Jane with red hair, freckles, and I’m on the short side. Ridiculous fantasies swirl in my head, but that’s all they are—fantasies.
“It’s understandable then, why you can’t stay,” I manage to say, though something in my chest tightens. Not only is this creature jaw-droppingly beautiful, she’s also brainy. I’ve noticed that Jett often falls for women who have brains. Why does that surprise me? They are beauties, but they are also professional women. Fashion buyers, attorneys, doctors, CEOs.
I’m just a pathetic assistant. Hopefully a florist one day, and the CEO of my own little kiosk. Though it’s hardly in the same league.
“You did a fantastic job with the party, by the way.” Her compliment is as polished as she is, but I can hear the edge in her voice. “Jett says you took care of everything.”
I blink and smile. “I just wanted Brooke to have an unforgettable birthday.”
“Yeah?” She reapplies her lipstick. “I’m sure she did. It was good of you to make such an effort. Jett was in awe.” Her voice trails off, and she gives me a thoughtful look.
Does she know? Can she sense my feelings for him? My useless, delusional, pathetic crush? If she suspects, has she voiced her suspicions to him? I imagine them laughing at it over a bottle of expensive champagne.
I don’t know how to respond. I glance down at myself, feeling small and inadequate next to her. Ridiculous fantasies swirl in my head, but that’s all they are—fantasies.
The little girl returns, reaching for the faucet. “Here, let me help,” I say, turning it on for her. She’s on tiptoes to wash her hands, and I smile.
“You’re so good with kids,” Alicia observes, touching up her concealer. Her reflection catches mine in the mirror. “It’s no wonder Brooke adores you.”
“Brooke’s my friend,” the little girl says shyly, as if that explains everything.
“And that’s why you’re here, at Brooke’s party.” A bright red smile flashes across Alicia’s face. Her eyes glint with something I can’t place. Then she leans closer to the mirror, reapplying her lip gloss with precision.
I don’t like her tone or her patronizing comment to the little girl. “’Bye,” I say to Alicia, and lead the little girl back toward the party. My mind races as we reenter the room. Brooke’s face lights up when she sees me, her earlier frustration with her father forgotten.
But I haven’t forgotten. She’d been sullen this morning, upset that Jett hadn’t been here from the start. And the way her face crumpled when he and Alicia strolled in late—it hurt to watch.
The day hasn’t been terrible though. Brooke is happy now, and that’s all that matters. Jett seems to be impressed with the party, and I’m excited about my evening plans—The Mayflies concert is just what I need to unwind. I just have to get out of here.
I head towards Jett. He's leaning against a wall, watching Brooke playing games with her friends. He’s not in his signature Armani suit, but he still looks so eye-catching and sexy. He's wearing an expensive, casual blazer over dark jeans and a white shirt with the top two buttons open. It hurts to look at him.
I refocus on the concert this evening and I try to get in the right mindset for it. “I should head out,” I say to him. “Everything’s under control, and your brothers can help you wrap things up.”
He pushes off the wall. “You’re leaving?”
“Yes, Jett. I’m leaving. I have a life away from you.” My insides roil at my words. Heat creeps along my neck. “The party’s in full swing and the kids are going to start eating soon. You and your brothers can supervise,” I say quickly, hoping he doesn’t notice the wobble in my voice. I gesture toward Dex and Zach, who are standing by a table, laughing, talking, and oblivious to the chaos.
Jett blinks, looking utterly lost. “You want me to … supervise ?” He looks around as if it suddenly registers that there are no parents here, and the Knights are the grown-ups. The parents will show up at the end of the party to collect their kids. Suddenly, he doesn’t look like the CEO of the tech company. He looks lost.
I shake my head. This isn’t going to happen. He’s not going to reel me in. “It’s simple enough. You’ll be just fine, Jett, but I need to go.”
“Okay ...” He sounds reluctant for me to go and looks around helplessly. There are no parents around by design, because Jett doesn’t like to mingle with the other parents. He thinks they might want favors or money. He doesn’t trust people he doesn’t know, apart from the Stones.
Most of the kids in Brooke’s class are the children of rich parents, but most people, apart from the Stone family, aren’t in the same league as the Knights. “Get your brothers to help,” I suggest. “You’re good at ordering and delegating.”
“They know about as much as I do about getting thirty kids to eat,” he mumbles, shifting uneasily from one foot to the other.
“They’re five years old, Jett, not babies. You can handle it.” I try to stifle a laugh. This man runs a tech empire, and he’s panicking over a children’s party.
“Do you have to leave now? I can get my brothers to help, but it would be good to have you around.”
“I have a concert to go to, remember?” I glance at my watch. It’s two o’clock. I’m supposed to go home and get showered and ready so that Eliana and I can leave by five to make it to the concert which starts at seven. “I don’t want to be late.”
“Of course. I’m just sorry to see you go …” I weigh his words and try to gauge what he’s thinking and feeling, because he suddenly seems softer. Not the demanding tyrant I’m used to in the office. He clears his throat.
“Thanks for coming, Cari. It means the world to Brooke,” he adds quickly. “I appreciate you so much. You know that, don’t you?” Those blue irises gaze at me with such intensity that I’m forced to look away.
“I need to tell Brooke I’m going.” I get her attention and beckon her over briefly. She’s watching her friend get her face painted. “Are you having a good time, sweetie?” I crouch down to her level. She nods, her face lighting up, before turning sad when she sees my handbag on my arm. “Are you going?”
“Yes, sweetie, but I’ll see you soon, okay? Don’t forget to open the presents I got you.”
Before I can stand, she throws her arms around my neck, catching me off guard. She buries her face in my shoulder, squeezing tight. My heart stutters. Brooke’s always sweet, but this—this is more. More than I expected.
“Thanks for coming.” Her small voice is muffled against me. “Can you stay with me for a bit when we eat? Like mommies do.”
My throat tightens unexpectedly. I kiss her on the cheek as we pull apart, my heart full and heavy all at once. “Oh, sweetie.” There's no way I'm walking out of here and leaving this little girl alone. I’ve never heard her talk about her mommy before. I can do this for her. “Of course I'll stay. I would love to. Shall I just hover around? You'll want to sit with your friends—”
“I want you to sit with me.”
“Okaaaay,” I say slowly. “Then I’ll sit with you.” She rushes off in a blaze of happiness. Clearly there's more to the story, and I need to dig deeper. I need to speak to Anna and Jett. Something's going on in Brooke's life that we need to get to the bottom of.
“Told you it would make a big impression on her if you came.” Jett’s voice slices through the moment, snapping me back to reality. I think he heard what Brooke said. I straighten up, emotions quickly replaced by the desire to find out what's going on. I'm about to voice my fears to Jett but decide that now is not the time. “I'll stay for food, because Brooke wants me to.”
“What about your concert? Won’t you be late?” This is so not like Jett Knight. The man is worried about me missing my concert. What’s come over him?
“It’s only two o’clock.” I glance at my watch again. “I can stay for a little while. Half an hour, an hour at most.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it.”
“I’m doing it for Brooke.”
Maybe my tone is sharper than I intended because he looks taken aback. “I know, and I appreciate it. I'll call you a taxi when you're ready to go.”
“You don't have to do that, Jett. I’m quite capable of—”
“I know you are. You are more than capable of most things. Please, Cari. It's the least I can do.”
The Knight brothers supervising a lunch for thirty hungry children is a sight to see.
They don’t have to do much because the servers take care of most of it. The most the brothers have to do is pour glasses of juice when it runs out, and serve slices of pizza when the kids want more.
Given that they're not used to getting their hands dirty like this, I think they did well.
As soon as the food is cleared away, the magician launches into a few last tricks for the kids. The party’s winding down and I'm about to slip away, when a server materializes beside me with trays of brightly colored party bags. “Hi, Mommy. Please can you make sure the kids each get one?”
I blink, stunned for a second. “I ... I'm not ...”
The server has already walked away, leaving two trays of party bags—one for boys, one for girls—sitting on the table in front of me.
My heart sinks.
“Are we giving those out now?” Brooke cries. She takes hold of my hand, looking up at me gleefully.
I glance toward Jett, who’s standing a few feet away, deep in conversation on his phone with his back to me. I scan the room for backup, but his brothers are nowhere to be found. It’s just me, the servers, and the magician, who looks like he’s already mentally checked out.
I glance at my watch in shock. It's three o'clock. I can still go home, shower, and get ready for my night. I can still make the concert, but I won't have time to wash and straighten my hair. All is not lost.
“Yes, we are. C'mon on. Let's get it done quickly.”
The magician gets the kids to form a line, thank God, and they wait patiently as Brooke helps me hand out the bags. She's smiling and happy, and that is worth every minute of me being here.
The parents trickle in right on cue, perfectly punctual, perfectly polished. Brooke hugs me tightly and tells me it was the best party she's ever had. Those words mean everything to me.
Then Jett calls me a taxi and I walk out, finally heading home to get ready.
I jolt up with a start. Then rub my eyes as I look around the room.
I fell asleep.
In a panic, I jump up from the couch and find my phone.
I have eight missed calls from Eliana. My stomach twists. There are no texts, but the voicemail icon mocks me for missing the calls.
I don't bother getting changed. I haven't showered, but I slip on my boots and rush out, flagging down a taxi. I pray I can still make it. The concert starts soon. No time for pre-show drinks now, but maybe I can still salvage the evening.
Sliding into the backseat, I hit play on the first voicemail. Eliana’s voice fills the silence, sharp with irritation.
“Hey, it’s me. You’re not picking up. Why are you not picking up? We have a concert to go to, or has being in Jett Knight’s orbit turned your brain to mush again?” she snaps.
My chest tightens. She’s pissed. Of course she’s pissed. I check the timestamp. She sent it at four. I scroll to the next voicemail, sent twenty minutes later.
“I knew this would happen. It always does! Why aren’t you answering your phone?”
Her frustration is louder now, cutting deeper. My stomach knots. The final voicemail plays, the one that confirms what I already know.
“That’s it. I’ve had it with you, Car. I didn’t hear back, so I’m taking Bianca. I can’t risk you bailing on me. She’ll pay you for the ticket, even if she doesn’t like the music, but she’s a good friend, so she’s coming. You have fun with the Knights.”
I slump back against the seat, my jaw dropping. She didn’t wait. She really didn’t wait for me.
A text message pings as I stare blankly out the window, but I already know what it’s going to say.
I’ll pay you back for the ticket. When it comes to Jett, you always pick him over me.
She thinks I stayed at the party because of Jett. Nothing could be further from the truth, and yet her words hit like a punch. My jaw tightens, guilt swirling with the anger already simmering under my skin.
But she’s not completely wrong. God, I hate that she’s not.