Chapter 7
Juli
Apounding headache wakes me up early.
Too early. It’s still dark outside.
An urge to pee drives me from the cocoon of the super comfortable bed to the massive en suite bathroom, the light I left on guiding my way.
After relieving myself, I shuffle to the kitchen, the only light coming from the living room, a small lamp in the corner of the room I forgot to turn off after Cameron left.
I didn’t want him to leave, but I got the sense he wanted to escape.
That he couldn’t get away fast enough. Of course, my brain’s a little foggy on the details because, as he warned me, that drink definitely packed a punch.
One I wasn’t prepared for. Kinda like I wasn’t at all prepared for the night with Cameron years ago.
Being with him yesterday is bringing back memories I had long ago tucked away because nothing else could come of our one night.
It’s not like anything’s changed now, but he’s a good sport spending time with me, humoring an old friend.
I grab a bottle of water from the fridge and trudge back to bed, needing more sleep. Downing two Motrin, I crawl back under the luxurious sheets and bamboo blankets, burying my head under a pillow to shut out the lights.
When I arouse later, it’s only a slight headache. And given all I drank yesterday, I’m grateful it’s only that.
The clock displays nine thirty-six, which is the latest I’ve slept in I can’t remember how long.
I’m not one of those people up with the sun, but I like to get started early in the day and am usually at the 7:30 yoga class, ready to start my workday by nine at the latest. And taking stock of my body, I feel more rested, more relaxed, as if the sleep actually had some healing qualities. Or maybe it’s the suite.
Soft coastal lights with a quiet elegance of the Lowcountry offer a serene retreat steps from the beach. Sunlight filters through gauzy drapes, casting a soft glow over white oak floors and handwoven coastal textiles.
I make a pot of coffee and settle into the plush sectional. The living space feels both intimate and airy, with artisan lighting and a curated bar stocked with small-batch spirits and sweetgrass cocktail stirrers, probably both costing a fortune if I were to indulge.
Once cooled, I take a sip from the mug. The coffee is slightly less crappy than hotel coffee, and I make a mental note to get a proper cup when I venture out later.
On a boat.
With Cameron Fairbanks.
My lips curl up of their own accord at the thought of seeing him again today. And maybe, just maybe, getting him to touch me again. Either in the same spot or others. I’m not picky.
A search for my phone ends in my bag. I was so tired last night, I didn’t bother to check it before bed. I’ve got a few text messages and a missed call from Erica from about an hour ago. She didn’t bother leaving a voicemail, and the follow-up text message simply said to call her.
I put it on speakerphone and push open the expansive sliding doors onto the room’s private terrace, the sea breeze drifting inside while waves crash in the distance. It’s already sweltering, though I’m a little protected from the heat by the building. But it’s going to be a hot one.
“Hey. What’s on your agenda today?”
A chuckle expels from my mouth. “Good morning to you too, Erica.”
“Sorry. Morning. How was your night? How did you sleep? What’s on your agenda for today?”
“Good. Great. A boat ride at some point this afternoon, otherwise I’m free.”
“Can you cancel the boat ride?” There’s exasperation in her tone.
“Um, not sure. Why?”
“Jonah and I thought it would be fun to take a day trip to Charleston for shopping and food. You want in?”
But Cameron.
That’s my initial reaction. Because as much as I want to go out on a boat, now that he’s coming with me, I want to go even more. Spend more time with him. Learn more about him as an adult. About what he does here at the resort as “Recreation Director” as well as co-owner.
“What time are you going?”
“Around eleven. Most of the guests come in tomorrow, so we figured we’d have one last day to do some sightseeing before everything becomes only about the wedding.”
“Makes sense. Can I let you know in a bit?”
“I suppose. But maybe sooner rather than later.”
“Will do. Text you in a few.” I don’t wait for her response. My answer is going to be no, but I’ll let her think I might say yes, something I can’t dwell on. Nor do I let myself feel guilty for saying no to her last-minute request. It would be fun to hang out with her, but Cameron.
Through a hazy fog, I dimly remember him giving me something last night. His number. Where the hell did it end up?
In search of the information, I push up off the couch to hunt for where I might have put the business card he handed me.
“Cameron Fairbanks, Owner. That has a nice ring to it.” Words I said last night as I read the tiny description on the card slam into my brain.
He can never know . . . something else I said once upon a time.
I shake them off, continuing my quest. I finally locate the business card on the nightstand next to the king-sized bed. Last night’s Juli probably had big plans for the information. This morning’s Juli wastes no time dialing the number.
It rings four times before I figure he’s probably busy at work. A text message would have been more appropriate so he could read and respond at his leisure. It also occurs to me he doesn’t have my number. Higher probability the call will be sent to voicemail.
Smart move, Juliana.
My finger hovering over the red button, a gruff, “Cameron Fairbanks” comes through the line.
“Hey, it’s Juli.” I try for casual, not succeeding because my voice sounds like I’ve just finished a full marathon.
“Hi, what’s up?”
He’s not rushing me off the phone, which I’ll take as a good sign. I sink deeper into the bed, sitting back against the headboard.
“Checking in about the boat ride. Still good for this afternoon?” My teeth draw my bottom lip into my mouth as I hold my breath.
“About that.” He pauses, and my stomach drops. Here comes the brush-off I should have expected. “The weather looks a little rough. Tomorrow looks great, though. Any chance that could work?”
Okay, not life-shattering. Simply a change in plans. I can work with this. My fingers uncurl from their fists.
“My schedule is wide open tomorrow.”
“Okay, great.” There’s a bubble of hope in his voice. “I’ll meet you at the front entrance of the main building at one. Will you have eaten?”
Momentarily speechless by his question, I try to answer it.
“You’re asking if I’ll have eaten lunch by one p.m. tomorrow?”
“Yeah.” His answer is so casual, he must have missed the incredulity in the question.
“Tomorrow’s lunch is four meals away. I can’t answer that with any kind of certainty. Is that a deal-breaker?” Again, I hold my breath, pondering how Cameron’s going to respond. Hoping beyond hope I don’t have to make this decision now.
His deep chuckle echoes over the line. “Do you trust me enough to order lunch for us?”
“Yes.” It falls out of my mouth without thought.
“Cool. So one p.m. tomorrow. Bring a bathing suit and sunscreen. And some water.”
As excited as I am about the prospect of spending time with him tomorrow, a small part of me is disappointed at not seeing him today. Which is why I ask, “Any badminton tournaments to judge today?”
“Nope. Actually, my schedule’s open the rest of the day. Besides a quick trip to Charleston to check something out.”
I couldn’t have heard him right. “Charleston?”
“Yeah. Largest city in South Carolina. Probably flew into there before arriving in Magnolia Cay.” It’s not a condescending remark when it leaves Cameron’s mouth.
“Erica invited me to go shopping there today. I was all set to tell her no.” I don’t have the faintest clue why I’m telling him this.
To see him. Duh.
“Is there room for one more? And if that answer is yes, will there be time to make a pit stop?”
I sit up taller on the bed. Suddenly the idea of going to Charleston with Erica and Jonah is improving.
“You want to come with?”
I smack my forehead. Who says that? Other than some of the younger authors I work with and readers I know.
As predicted, Cameron’s chuckle calls me out. “We’ll come back to that later. But the answer is yes, I want to come. What time are you leaving and how are you getting there?”
“Eleven,” I say, before adding, “I’m not sure.
I wasn’t all that interested in the details ten minutes ago.
But I can find out.” I open up the text thread and send a message to Erica telling her I’m in and asking for information.
Standing up, I glimpse myself in the mirror.
“Shit. I gotta get ready. Can I text you on this number?”
“Did you eat breakfast?”
“Crap.” Though he can’t see me, I cover my mouth with my hand. Why can’t I keep these curses to myself? “I need real coffee.” The words tumble from my lips, words meant to stay inside my head.
“Okay. Text me on this number.” The line goes quiet.
“Will do.” I expect something more from him, but too soon I discover he’s not there.
“What the hell?” I don’t have much time to ponder his mysterious disappearance because Erica’s back with a message.
Her excitement is palpable through the phone.
I smile until I remember my time to get ready is limited. And I have to face Cameron.
The thought brings a nervous smile to my face.
Ten minutes later, I’m out of the shower when a knock sounds on the door. I quickly tug on my robe and rush to answer it, though not before checking the peephole first.