Chapter 17
CARI
I need to cool down. My heated body needs to cool down, especially after having him touch my skin and slather suntan lotion all over my back.
But the water is warm, and doesn’t give me the respite I need. Still, it feels better being out of the same building that Jett is in. I glance over my shoulder. Not knowing much about the layout of the house, I don’t know where his study is or whether he can see out, see us, see me.
Because upstairs, he saw every inch of me. I get goosebumps thinking about it even now, my body still tingling from his observations.
Up close, the sea is a beautiful, shimmering aquamarine-blue, the foamy waves washing over pastel-pink sand. I wade in with Brooke, taking care not to go in too deep, only where my feet can reach the bottom.
Brooke and I spend more time walking along the beach, which stretches out behind the mansion like it was made just for the Knights. Of course it would be. They have the best of everything.
The sun beats down on us, and I question being out here. And then I remember Jett’s comment, which went over my head at the time because I was so fixated on his hands on me. You have the type of skin that is at risk.
It felt so intimate, him saying that. It’s a casual observation anyone who’s seen me could make, with my auburn-colored hair and pale skin, but somehow it feels even more coming from him. Like he’s been watching me, knows me, cares about me.
I’m conscious of the time, so I tell Brooke we need to get back. Luckily, she’s been my distraction.
We return to the house and I help her into the shower, then offer to help her get dressed. She wants to do it herself, though, which I’ve started to notice happens a lot. I’m not sure if it’s just with me, or if she also did it with Anna, but she seems to want to be older, more capable.
I leave and go downstairs to make a light snack for us both, a few sandwiches, but one of the housekeepers swoops in. She practically insists on doing it for me, smiling softly the whole time, and it’s clear—I’m not going to be needed for much here, other than to watch Brooke.
Brooke and I eat, and she casually recounts how last year she had a tent set up here with lights and a nicely made-up bed inside, all snug and cozy. She asks me if we can set it up again this time. I agree and make a mental note to ask the staff.
Brooke is my distraction—and, goodness, do I need one here, with my boss so close. But she’s more than that—I love being around her. She’s fun, and spending this much time with her, instead of the little slivers of time when Jett brings her into the office, means that I am getting to know her better.
Outside, the sky glows a soft, deep pink as the sun sinks lower. There’s a calm in the air, a warmth that clings to my skin. Bermuda feels like paradise, and yet every time I think of Jett I’m far from relaxed.
Brooke is excited about the barbecue tonight. Her energy’s already returned after our time at the beach and her sandwich. This day already feels so long and I can feel my tiredness start to set in.
I’m struggling with what to wear tonight. What does one wear to a barbecue here? I presume that Jett’s friend is at the same insane level of wealth as the Knights. Thank goodness I went shopping with Aunt Scarlett and Eliana and updated my wardrobe a little. I settle on one of the dresses I bought with them. It's an orange sleeveless dress, in a soft fabric that flows as I walk. It looked good when I tried it on in the fitting room, and Aunt Scarlett commented that it shows off my figure and my hair.
I ask Brooke what she wants to wear, but she wants to see what I’m wearing first. When I show her, she picks out an orange-colored dress from her closet too. I wonder if she’s mimicking me on purpose. It’s endearing.
We meet downstairs in the expansive, marble-floored foyer, and the same driver from earlier is waiting for us. Jett comes into sight and Brooke rushes to him.
“Daddy!” she squeals, throwing her arms around his legs.
Jett smiles, brushing her hair back. “You look pretty, angel,” he says, his voice softening in that way it always does when he talks to her. Then he glances at me, his eyes tracing over my dress slowly. His gaze lingers, and I can feel it, burning through me already. I quickly look down, heat crawling up my neck. Did I nod? I can’t even tell anymore. Every time he looks at me lately, I feel off balance.
Brooke slips her hand into his and beams up at her father, clearly happy to have more time with him. How precious this must be for them.
He looks ... different. The sun has kissed his skin, giving him a faint tan. When was he outside? This man never stops working. And when he does, it’s either for Brooke or some woman.
“Shall we get in the car?” he asks, breaking the silence.
We settle in, Brooke chatting away about all the things she’s excited to do with him—she’s looking forward to days at the beach, swimming in the pool, exploring, and going on boat rides. Things she must have done before. I’m amazed she even remembers her last visit here. “Yeah, we’ll do that, sprout,” he says, agreeing to her every request.
“It's going to be so much fun, and you're going to be with us all the time, Daddy!” Brooke cries excitedly.
“I'll be with you as much as I can, angel.”
She’s convinced this whole trip is one big vacation just for her.
And Jett? He lets her believe it.
Then he tells her that she’s been invited to a lunch at her friend Madison’s house. “You remember her, don’t you? Last year, she had an elephant and a camel at her birthday party.”
“I remember!” Brooke would never forget seeing an elephant. But having an elephant and a camel at a party? How rich are these people? I assume the girl must be of similar age to Brooke.
He turns to me. “You’ll take her. Noon tomorrow. I’ll have the driver bring you for lunch with the kids. Their mothers will be there too. I told Abigail, Madison’s mother, that you would be coming.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. He was so casual. So matter-of-fact. Giving me just the information I needed, and nothing more. He feels nothing like the man who saw me practically naked and ran his hands over me earlier.
“Cari’s coming with us everywhere, isn’t she Daddy?”
I freeze at the mention of my name, my gaze shifting to Jett. Each glance is like a secret thrill-seeking missile, making me feel things I need to forget.
Jett opens his mouth to respond, but his cell phone rings. He answers, falling into business mode while Brooke turns to me, her eyes wide with excitement as she recites everything her father just told her. This is likely the longest stretch of time he’s ever spent with her. Usually, he’s in meetings, on calls, flying in and out of the country. Even when he’s around, he’s not really present. But this trip? It’s different for Brooke. I can tell it means the world to her.
The car pulls up to an impressive house—large but not as grand as the Knight mansion. This looks sleeker, where Jett's one is more cozy, more old world. This place is a large, modern, beachfront villa with whitewashed walls and large windows. An infinity pool stretches toward the horizon, seamlessly blending into the sea. The backyard has a large deck with lounge chairs and is surrounded by beautiful, landscaped grounds.
Who is this friend of his? I step out, already feeling wary and out of place. Brooke has her hand in Jett’s and I follow behind, looking around me.
The barbecue is set up on the villa’s ocean-facing deck, and the sea breeze carries the faint tang of saltwater. The air is thick with the scent of grilling meats, the sounds of laughter and conversation filtering the air under a rose-colored sky. Some people sit at tables set out on the grass, while others mill around with drinks in their hands, deep in conversation. Servers in white uniforms walk through with serving trays.
A few people approach Jett, shaking hands. Warm hugs are exchanged, and they fawn all over Brooke who stands there, shyly, looking as if she wants to disappear behind one of Jett’s legs. I stand back, happy to be in his shadow.
A younger man, around my age, seeks me out.
“Are you hiding?” he asks, smiling. He seems friendly and offers me his hand.
Jett turns around instantly.
“I’m not hiding,” I tell him, but it feels wrong, even though I’m being civil and just answering a question. I can somehow sense that Jett doesn’t approve, even though this is normal. “I’m with Mr. Knight,” I say weakly. I don’t know what else to say.
“Hey, Jett,” the guy says, breezily. His blond hair is short at the sides, with longer, curling locks on top. With his tanned skin and green eyes, he wouldn’t look out of place in a boy band.
“Jacques.” Jett’s tone is clipped.
“Good to see you again,” the young man continues. Then, “Hey Brooke.” He squats down and shakes her hand, pretending to act all business like. She giggles.
He stands up and turns to me again. “I don’t believe we’ve ever met.” I shrink back because he’s a little forward for my liking.
Jett answers before I say a word. “She’s Brooke’s nanny for the trip, and she’s looking after her tonight.”
The guy blinks, clearly thrown by Jett’s sharp tone. “Okay. Well, when you’re off duty, there’s a bunch of us hanging out over there. Come over.” He points towards a fire pit further out, near the sea.
Jett looks displeased. “She won’t be. She’s taking care of Brooke. Remember, I just told you that?”
I stand there, heat flushing my cheeks, utterly humiliated. Why does he have to sound all bossy and patronizing?
Jacques frowns, as if Jett has suddenly developed a split personality. Come to think of it, I’m wondering the same thing. He’s turned into a possessive, territorial beast, only I can’t work out what the territory is—is it me, or Brooke?
Jett crouches down to Brooke’s level. “You have fun, okay? I’ll be right over there.” He points at a table nearby then walks away, heading toward a group of men sitting at what I can only describe as a power table—cigars, whiskey tumblers, and too much testosterone.
Jacques hasn’t moved. “I’m sorry about that,” I whisper, not wanting to talk about Jett in front of his daughter. “I don’t know why he said that.”
“He’s known for being grouchy,” Jacques replies. “But, if you do manage to escape, we’ll be over there. I’m Jacques. Welcome.”
“I’m Cari.” We shake hands.
“My parents are hosting this barbecue,” he explains.
“Oh. I didn’t know. I don’t know anyone here.” I look at the sea of strangers around me.
Jacques’ smile is pure American apple pie—sweet and wholesome. “I figure you probably won’t want to talk business, so if you’re in the mood for fun, just come over. Don’t be shy. And,” he leans in and whispers in my ear, “You’re the nanny, right? You’re allowed to have some fun.”
“Thanks.” But there’s no way I’m going against Jett’s orders. He heads back to his friends, and I survey the couples and older people milling around. My heart sinks. This is not going to be a barrel of laughs for me.
Brooke is gazing at a group of girls around her age, and tugs me to go to them. As soon as they see her they fuss over her. A few older women come by and greet Brooke, then ask where Jett is. I might as well be invisible.
After a while, it’s just a few girls and Brooke. I sit alone and watch them play with hula hoops.
The deck is decorated with string lights that cast a warm, golden glow as the sun begins to dip below the horizon. Lush tropical plants surround the edges, their leaves rustling softly in the breeze, creating a private, cozy atmosphere despite the open expanse of ocean before them.
A long wooden table, set with colorful ceramic plates and glass tumblers, holds an impressive spread of food. Platters overflow with freshly grilled seafood—lobster tails, shrimp skewers glazed with honey-lime sauce, and charred mahi-mahi fillets. Bowls of tropical fruit salad glisten, with pineapple, mango, and papaya chunks, next to a crisp green salad tossed with avocados and a zesty citrus vinaigrette. On the grill, thick steaks and marinated chicken thighs hiss as flames lick at their edges. The smoky scent of barbecue sauce, spiced with a hint of island rum, perfumes the air.
Guests gather in clusters, their laughter blending with the soothing sound of the waves lapping against the shore. Some lounge on cushioned rattan chairs with drinks in hand, while others drift toward the pool, where lanterns float like tiny stars on the water’s surface. Brooke skips across the deck, a plate of grilled corn in her hands, her laughter ringing like a bell as she chats with other children.
I linger close by, watching her, and enjoying the breathtaking view. I marvel again that I’m here. Really here, in paradise. I wish Eliana and Bianca could see this. I wish Aunt Scarlett could see this. I wish my mom had lived to see this.
I look around to see where Jett is, and that’s when I see her—the pretty woman from the plane. She’s talking to Jett, laughing at something he’s said, her hand brushing against his arm. She flips her hair, her eyes locked on his in a way that makes my stomach churn.
Of course. It’s always someone else. I remind myself that I’m here for Brooke. I sit up straighter as I remember the promise I made myself on the flight over.
I’m here to have some fun.
A month from now I won’t be working for Jett Knight anymore. I‘m only here to help him because he was stuck. I’m doing the man a favor.
I stare at where Jacques and his friends are. As long as I’m still looking after Brooke, Jett Knight can’t dictate how I spend my evening.