2. THE CLUB
THE CLUB
SIX MONTHS LATER | GOLD COAST
KARSON
The journey to the Gold Coast had been all blue skies and calm water as we sailed into the marina. My skin had turned a deep brown after months of island hopping.
Life was good.
“You know,” Dyson said, “you’re not getting out of it this time. It’s our last chance to party before Sydney. This place rocks, and we’re not leaving without hitting the strip.”
“You’re not going to relent, are you? If the paparazzi spot us, it’ll be a nightmare. I don’t want a repeat of Harrison Island. Those photos were everywhere.”
“You can’t hide away forever, bro. Anyway, I’ve got a good feeling about tonight.” He grinned, already halfway out the door.
Everywhere we’d sailed, Dyson made friends the second he stepped ashore, while I mostly stayed on board, keeping my distance from prying lenses and endless attention.
Once people found out who my father was, they stopped seeing me and started seeing a billionaire. Then came the photos, the questions, endless headlines tied to Karlos Wells—the business tycoon who’d built SolStar from the ground up and made his first billion before I was born.
It’d been crystal clear to me from an early age that his company came first, and everything else came second. My mother, Phoebe, had her cocktail parties, my father had his empire, and until Drake, a steady trail of nannies had filled the gaps—
“Let’s go, Wells!” Dyson called. “We’ve got women to meet!”
***
“See?” Dyson gestured around the warehouse-style club, aptly named The Loft. “I was right. You’d be crazy to miss this.”
I nodded in agreement. A buzz charged through me as the top-tier DJ tweaked the bass, holding an earphone to one ear and hyping up the crowd while seamlessly blending the next track.
A group of young women in bikinis gathered on the stage, dancing to the beat, and I didn’t protest when Dyson nudged me onto the dance floor.
As the track faded, the compère boomed—far too loudly—about an upcoming modeling contest.
First, the judges would evaluate contestants on a choreographed individual stage presentation—the T-walk. Then, each contestant would perform an act with a partner to showcase their ability to work as part of a duo.
We watched one contestant after another glide to the center of the stage, strike a front pose, move to the back for a second pose, then return to the front for their final one.
Afterward, they took a short break to prepare for the duet round.
One contestant’s act involved trying to pass her modeling finesse on to her overly enthusiastic protégé. He wore a minuscule leopard-print Speedo that barely survived his weightlifter’s build.
To the crowd’s delight, he strutted across the stage, almost pulling it off—until he stumbled and went down.
The audience erupted into laughter as the curtains closed on him.
“Well that was unique. Not sure he’s going to take out the prize though,” I said with a grin. “Bro, grab us some drinks.”
Dyson rolled his eyes. “Fine. But you’re getting the next round. If I’m still here that is.” His gaze locked onto a striking red-haired woman before he headed for the bar.
My gaze swept around the room. The place was packed. Music blasted through the speakers between performances, stopping when the curtain started to draw back slowly.
This place is fully insane. I’m glad Dyson insisted—
My breath stalled as the lights lit up the next contestant, like I’d taken a hit I hadn’t seen coming.
My gaze locked on her.
She stood there, impossible to look away from, lit from within.
Her gold bikini shimmered against sun-kissed skin, her full lips curving into a radiant smile as she scanned the crowd.
My heart kicked hard against my chest as a pull unlike anything I’d ever known gripped me.
Who is she?
The second her gaze connected with mine, something inside me shifted.
The noise around me faded as time slowed.
There was just her. I couldn’t have looked away if I’d tried.
But I didn’t.
***
IVY
“My feet are killing me in these heels,” I said to Olivia, one of my roommates and a curve model competing alongside me tonight.
“Stepping onto the runway in five-inch stilettos is not for the fainthearted. I’m this close to swapping them out for sneakers.
” I grinned, holding my index finger and thumb so close they almost touched.
“That could probably work. If you make it a pair of stiletto sneakers,” she replied with a giggle.
I’d spent days exfoliating, moisturizing, hydrating, waxing, and tanning—every last detail to be camera-ready. And it felt amazing.
After what seemed like forever, the night that could change my life had finally arrived.
The lights beyond the curtain glowed through a narrow gap.
I took a seat, leaned back, and closed my eyes, letting my mind drift back a couple of years to the first time I’d waited for my name to be called at a competition…
From up on the stage, I could see sunbathers sprawling across the white sand while a group of teenagers kicked a ball near the shoreline.
The crowd’s roar cut through the salty air as waves crashed behind them. A dozen of us stood shoulder-to-shoulder on the makeshift platform in bikinis while the judge tapped the microphone, sending a crackle vibrating through the speakers.
“Finally, folks, the moment we’ve been waiting for!” He peeked down at the card. “The winner of this year’s Swimwear Contest is… Katarina Harrington.” The crowd erupted.
Katarina pressed her hands to her cheeks, gliding to the front of the stage. The faint smile on her lips did little to disguise her boredom.
“Congratulations, Katarina,” said the judge, handing her a gleaming trophy. “You’ve won a contract with Baybe Swimwear and a two-thousand-dollar cash prize.”
“Thank you,” she said drily. “This means so much.” She swung her trophy by her side and stepped back.
For real? Well, this might not mean much to her, but winning would be my way out—
“Now for our runner-up. And boy, did she turn heads today.” His gaze traveled along the line. “Local girl, Ivy Lawrence!”
One of the other models, Sienna, grabbed my arm. “Ivy, it’s you!” Laughing, she shoved me forward. “Go!” The crowd burst into applause as I stumbled forward, my mouth falling open in shock.
“Ivy, congratulations,” he said, holding the trophy high. “You’ve won a modeling shoot with Baybe Swimwear and a thousand-dollar cash prize!”
I looked out at the crowd. My friend Kobi stood near the front, fist-pumping and cheering like I’d just won Olympic gold. She’d drifted into my life the day she arrived in Byron Bay, stayed with me until recently, and had somehow become like family.
“Wow, I did not expect this!” I smiled back at her. “Thank you so much, everyone.” I handed the mic back as I took my place beside Katarina.
This is the best day ever.
Later, with my trophy in hand, I headed to Sienna’s place with some of the other girls for pizza and pool, without a single regret.
A year earlier, I would’ve laughed if someone had told me where I’d be…
When Celeste, a scout, first stopped me on the street, said she liked my look, offered to put together a portfolio for me, and mentioned a lump-sum payment, I shut her down pretty much instantly.
Modeling hadn’t been part of my life plan. I wanted to surf professionally. But that same morning, I saw my dream surfboard in the shop window… and I couldn’t afford it.
“One job,” she’d said when I called her. “No pressure.”
So I did it. And from that day forward, I was hooked. And that was only the beginning. For the first time since losing my parents, I had something to work toward—a future I could build for myself.
I never again wanted to feel adrift… like I belonged nowhere.
I was going to make it. No matter what it took. I didn’t know exactly how yet, but now it felt possible.
When I opened my eyes and stood up from the chair, all the girls around me were dressed in stunning designer swimwear, each one desperate for the Adore Designs contract up for grabs.
But it wouldn’t be easy, and the night hadn’t been drama-free. Two of the other contestants, Katarina and Ingrid, had been at it nonstop, hurling insults at each other.
As we stood poised ready to take the stage, Ingrid had burst into tears… staring in horror at her swimwear lying in pieces on the floor.
Crushed, she withdrew from the contest, still crying as she left the club.
“Sayonara, Ingrid.” Katarina gave a little wave as her face spread into a fake smile. “Better luck next time, girl!”
“That’s brutal!” Olivia whispered, shooting me a knowing look.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t want to get on her bad side.”
It was almost my turn. Enough drama. My heart thundered in my chest. C’mon, girl. You’ve got this.
First up was the bikini round with the signature T-walk, and after that, I had to perform a special talent alongside a partner. I’d chosen to sing a duet with Ethan—my roommate’s boyfriend. We’d practiced endlessly, but so far, he was a no-show!
I’d called and messaged him. Nothing. If he didn’t arrive soon, I’d be disqualified. And I had no backup plan.
“Fingers crossed Ethan shows up, girls, or I’m done,” I said flatly.
“No! What will you do if he doesn’t show?” Olivia asked with a worried look.
“Ladies, quiet!” said the stage manager. “You’re up next, Ivy, so be sure you’re ready.”
As the curtain slid back, I moved into position moments before the lights landed on me.
With a nervous smile, I scanned the crowd for Ethan. Instead, my breath stalled as I spotted a gorgeous, well-dressed blond guy watching me.
His striking blue eyes held mine.
Damn.
He’s not the usual type we get around here.
Why couldn’t I have run into him on my night out instead of when I’m up here competing?
His lips curled into a heart-melting smile, and my pulse kicked into a wild sprint.
The top buttons of his pale-blue shirt hung open, and my gaze drifted lower, over the rolled cuffs, along the strong lines of his forearms, to his tanned hands resting casually by his sides.
I reeled inwardly at his powerful physique.
Who is he?
As all eyes rested on me, the crowd’s chatter fell away while my panic climbed higher with every passing second. I did another sweep of the room.
Shit. Where are you Ethan? Without you, I don’t stand a chance of winning this.
I scanned from left to right again, this time pausing where I’d last seen that head of blond hair and those magnetic eyes. But he was gone, unexpected disappointment flickered through me.
My heart leaped when I spotted a shaggy mess of auburn hair and broad shoulders. But when he turned around, it wasn’t Ethan staring back at me.
Well, he’s not here, and I can’t do my duet without him. This isn’t like Ethan… what the hell do I do now?