Paradise Bay Collection #1-3

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

ASLAN

I t’s past three o’clock in the morning, and I’m standing at my living room window.

Some would say I have insomnia. That’s not the case. I operate on very little sleep, just like my father did.

Nights like this, I enjoy staring at the city lights, the Golden Gate Bridge, and the dark sky.

If I were in my childhood home, I’d be gazing at the blanket of diamonds illuminating the blackness above us.

That’s the beauty of Paradise Bay. The sky is always clear.

There’s no light pollution dimming the stars.

If it wasn’t so late, I’d drive forty-five minutes to my old house and see if that would bring me some answers to all the problems I’m dealing with lately—including my mother.

While growing up, I watched my father doing the same thing almost every night.

He’d be staring at the big picture window that looked toward the vineyard.

I guess I got my restlessness from him. Some nights, he’d wiggle his fingers, calling me to approach him.

We would both stare at the still sky for a long time.

I was an active kid, but those nights when he invited me to be next to him, I didn’t fidget or say a word.

“I’ll let you in on a secret,” he said one time, whispering. “When in doubt, always ask the stars. They’ll listen to your problems and will guide you until you find the right way to solve them.”

And here I am, as I do almost every night for the past fourteen years since he left us. I stand in front of the window, hoping to find a star that can guide me. Joel Spearman was an extraordinary father, a wise man, and a kind soul. I can’t understand why he left us so soon.

It’s been too many years without him. Anyone would think that I would be over his death, but I’m not.

He was too young, too full of life and plans.

I rub my chest as if trying to calm the ache of my soul—it’s impossible.

The searing pain of losing my father will never disappear, and on days like today, it becomes unbearable.I needed him then and I need him now.

We barely survived his loss and everything that happened during those dark days.

It all started with the vineyard. One night, my family was woken up by the angry flames burning the vines and the guesthouse. According to the fire marshal, it was arson.

Two days later, Dad died of a heart attack. He was found in the field. According to Mom, he had gone out to assess the damage. It wasn’t until supper time that she sent my brother, Heathcliff, to look for him. Heath is the one who found him lying lifeless next to the burnt vines.

If that wasn’t enough, I found Margie, my fiancée, fucking my cousin Troy during Dad’s funeral.

She taught me a valuable lesson. Women only want me for my money—that’s exactly what she told Troy as he fucked her. Since then, I haven’t dated or taken anyone seriously. My sister Fern says it’s just an excuse to be an asshole like the rest of the men in her family.

Is she right?

That’s debatable.

It shouldn’t matter if I’m dating or not.

But it matters to my mother.

That’s why a year ago, I lied and told her that I had a girlfriend.

It’s the best way to keep her happy. Mom lives in this enchanting world where true love exists, and soulmates are paired before they’re even born.

According to her, it happened to all the Spearmans and it’s bound to happen to her children too.

Someone should remind her that her soulmate died fourteen years ago. I can’t understand how she still believes in that nonsense. She hopes my current girlfriend is the one.

My brothers and sisters hate that I’ve been lying to her for the past year, but it’s worked like a charm.

Unless I count those days when she wants me to bring my mysterious girlfriend to our family dinners—or for family celebrations.

Like the Spearman family reunion happening in less than two weeks.

Yep, I’m fucked.

Hey, I never said the plan was bulletproof.

Should I have had a contingency plan when I learned about this event?

Nine months ago, when we learned about the possibility of a Spearman reunion in Hawaii, I laughed with my brothers, Gatsby and Lysander, my triplets.

They’ve been my partners in crime since the day we were conceived.

Our logic laid on the fact that the Spearman family is huge.

Dad was one of seven children. Each one of them had five to eight children.

Some of them are parents too. It’s impossible to get that many people into one place.

We were wrong.

Three months later, I received an invitation to the first annual reunion. They had invitations and we had to RSVP.

The event is well organized. I found out that my cousin June, who used to own a PR company, is one of the masterminds behind the entire operation.

Her twin Jeannette and her sister-in-law, Emmeline, are helping her.

Those women could take over the world on a weekend and fix it if they had more time.

Since then, Mom has been reminding us that we need to RSVP and our presence at the event is mandatory.

With less than two weeks to go, I have to figure out a way to skip this trip. Am I afraid that my mother will drag me against my will? Yes. I think she’s capable of that and much more.

Do I want to go?

Maybe.

It’s Hawaii. My cousin Jackson and his wife Emmeline will be renewing their vows.

Jack is the oldest of our generation. His brothers and sisters are my favorite cousins from the Spearman side, but Mom wants me to bring my girlfriend—after all, we’ve been together for more than a year.

Plus, I’m in the middle of an acquisition, a merger, and…

there’s a lot of work to do. I can’t just pack up and take a vacation.

There’s also the fact that a week after this trip is over, we’ll be celebrating the fifteen-year anniversary of Dad’s departure.

I should borrow a page from Gatsby’s life and disappear for a few weeks. Good luck finding me while you’re celebrating nonsense or remembering that we lost the most important man in our lives.

“Fuck, I need drink.”

As I’m about to head to the kitchen for a glass of scotch, my phone rings.

I groan as I realize it’s Lysander’s tone.

So much for having a peaceful night without dealing with family.

I take one last look at the Golden Gate Bridge and turn toward the kitchen.

If I’m going to deal with him, at least I’ll do it with a finger of scotch on the rocks.

I pull out a tumbler, the bottle of alcohol, and answer the phone, setting it up on speaker. “What’s up, asshole?”

“Some of us would like to get some sleep,” he growls.

If I wasn’t pouring my drink, I’d be staring at the phone. Why the fuck is he calling me then? “Good night? Go to sleep? Do you need a nighttime story? Did you try closing your eyes?”

“I can’t sleep because you’re thinking too fucking loud.”

I burst into laughter, almost dropping the glass. “Really? You’re complaining about my loud thoughts?”

“Yep, plus, you make too much fucking noise. I heard you when you left the bed and went to the kitchen. Why are you back there? Do you need another drink? We should soundproof your apartment so I can sleep.”

I look down and give him the finger. Letting him and Gatsby live in my building was one of the worst decisions I’ve made in the past couple of years.

They don’t pay rent, they come to my apartment at all hours of the day to take my food, and I don’t have any privacy.

“Or, hear me out…you can move out of my building. It’d make more sense to live close to the vineyard. ”

He laughs but doesn’t confirm what we know. Lysander doesn’t want to live near Mom. He doesn’t need to live in the guesthouse. Why can’t he just buy a property or rent a place in Paradise Bay?

I guess because he’d be so close to our mother, she’d be barging into his place every five fucking minutes. Mom needs a hobby I think as the amber liquid goes down my throat.

“What’s upsetting you?” he asks.

People think he’s the most relaxed of the triplets, but that’s Gatsby.

Though, in all honesty, none of us are chill or calm.

The moment Dad died, the burden of the family fell onto us.

Suddenly, we became parents to our younger siblings.

Life came to be complicated as we tried to parent five teenagers and our mother, who had situational depression—losing Dad hit her pretty hard.

That’s the part of her situation I don’t understand. She suffered so much when she lost Dad. Why would she want that for her children? I wouldn’t want anyone to go through what she went through just because they thought they were in love with me.

“Listen, if you’re just calling to harass me?—”

“It’s a courtesy call to check up on you,” he interrupts me.

“I’m fine.”

“I call bullshit. Something is either frustrating you or causing you major anxiety. I just want to help you chill the fuck out. Have you tried hooking up? Releasing endorphins is a healthy way to relax.”

“So now you want to dictate how I feel?”

“No, I want you out of my head and heart. It’s so fucking hard to deal with your feelings, Gatsby’s feelings, and my life.”

I snort. “Because you don’t have feelings.”

“Ha, don’t start playing ‘let’s annoy the fuck out of Lysander because’…I hate being a triplet.”

Is it wrong to enjoy his frustration? Probably, but I swear it’s so fucking funny when he’s annoyed.

“Can you just tell me what’s wrong with you?” he growls.

I know when to push, but I also know when I have to back off. Since the game is over, I confess what’s fucking with my head. “Hawaii, our mother, the merger…why can’t things be simple?”

“Tell Mom, ‘Fuck off. I don’t need a wife. The only girlfriend I have is the inflatable doll Caspian gave me for Christmas.’ See, it’s pretty easy.”

Fucking Caspian and his gag gifts. He’s such an idiot.

“I don’t understand why she’s always on my case and not yours. She has seven children other than me to nag, and I only hear her say, ‘Aslan, dear, when are you going to get married?’ Why?”

“Margie,” he answers.

I close my eyes, exhaling harshly. “It’s been over for fourteen years. Again, she has seven other children to harass.”

“None of us have ever been close to having a family. You were engaged.”

“You—”

“I don’t count,” he interrupts before I say something else. “Listen, your only options are to confront her or keep going with your fabricated girlfriend.”

He doesn’t understand that I’m at a crossroads. This is it. The fable has to come to an end. Unless he has a solution. “How can I continue with the lie?”

“Take that girlfriend to Hawaii, you can break up with her during or after the trip.”

“She’s not real,” I reminded him, annoyed.

“It’s not a matter of having her but finding someone to play the part. Hire someone for the week.”

“Sure, let’s bring a whore to the family event. Classy.”

“I meant?—”

“You’re an idiot,” I interrupt him before he says something more stupid.

“Hire an actress.”

I’m about to pull out my hair. Is he serious?

I snap my fingers. “Why didn’t I think of that?

I could just post it on Craigslist. Actress needed to play the part of my girlfriend.

Must be available to travel. No passport needed.

Non-smoker, not clingy, nothing serious.

I’ll have my assistant run it before noon. ”

“The hot VP of Operations could do it.”

“Keep Keaton out of this conversation,” I growl.

“Aww, you don’t want us to mention your favorite, shiny, unwrapped toy?”

I’ve no idea what he means by that, but I’m about to go downstairs and rearrange his face.

“You’ve always had a soft spot for her. On the plus side, she knows how to deal with your…lovely personality.”

He’s not wrong. I consider his idea for one hot second. Can I fake being with Keaton? She’s smart, fun, and beautiful. Not that I’m gawking at her every time we’re in the same room. Okay, I might glance at her from time to time because, well, she’s gorgeous.

“Do you think that’s going to keep Mom away?”

“At least for a few months. It’s perfect.” He snaps his fingers, almost as if he just had a brilliant idea. “She’s leaving San Francisco in a couple of months, isn’t she? You can claim that she didn’t want to have a long-distance relationship.”

The thought of her leaving makes my stomach drop. Soon, she’ll move to Arizona— if the merger with Monti Media goes as planned. Another good reason why I have to skip the reunion. This is her dream, I have to make it happen—for her. I can’t go on vacation.

But what if I bring her along? We could work in the hotel room, pretend we’re together, and enjoy a week in Hawaii. She needs a vacation. I hate to admit that this plan might work, but am I that desperate?

No. I don’t mix business with pleasure or family.

Including Keaton in this insane plan isn’t the solution. “There has to be another way?”

“Yes, but you don’t like to confront Mom. Hence the big lie, Pinocchio.”

“I’ll tell her I’m too busy to go to Hawaii.”

He chuckles. “The last time you tried to wiggle your way out of a family event using work as an excuse, she threatened to fire you. She might not hold any shares for the company, but she’s my mother, and if she asks, I’ll vote in her favor. Everyone would agree with me.”

The board is a joke. My brothers and sisters only make decisions that are convenient for Mom, and I have to deal with the rest. “I love our mother, but she makes our life too fucking complicated.”

“I couldn’t agree more. Now can you settle down? I have to be at the vineyard in less than two hours.”

“You need to move back to Paradise Bay.”

“I will, as soon as you tell Mom to fuck off.”

That’s probably going to be never.