Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Naomi
I pull up to Fran and Avery’s house and let out a long, low whistle.
“Who would ever know this jungle mansion was hiding out here?” I mutter to myself as I climb out of the cart and crane my neck to see the second floor. “Holy crap, there’s a rooftop deck?”
I’m already picking the perfect outfit in my mind for a photoshoot up there.
“Morning,” Fran calls as she crosses the front porch. I climb the few steps up to meet her, and she and I exchange a loose hug. “Big bro let you loose in your own golf cart, huh?”
I shrug and smile. “Sam offered it.”
“Did he now? And when did he do that? Last night at the bar? Or were you two talking this morning?”
Uh, oh.
“Um, I ran into him in the lobby, and he offered.”
Fran folds her arms over her chest and regards me with amusement dancing across her face.
I’m so fucked. I panic and start rambling.
“We’re just…I don’t…Sam and I…” I trail off as I realize I walked right into her trap.
“Okay, then,” Fran says with a conspiratorial smile. “Looks like we’ve got all sorts of things to talk about.”
She leads me through the open front door into her wide open, sun-filled living room.
“Like, wedding stuff?” My voice gives away my nerves.
I clear my throat and try to get ahold of myself as Fran tosses me a look over her shoulder.
“Wedding stuff, sure. But I want to know about you and Sam.”
And there it is.
“What do you mean?”
Fran just laughs. “Girl, please.”
She walks into the open kitchen and pulls two brightly colored ceramic mugs from a cupboard. “Coffee?”
I just nod, unable to form words as my brain swirls with possible excuses I can offer for whatever Fran thinks she knows.
She pours coffee and sets it on the bar with cream and sugar. I sip nervously, waiting to be grilled.
“Spill it,” she says finally.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Sam is just…Dom’s friend. Some guy. He just offered me a golf cart to borrow. He’s known me since I was born.”
“And last night at dinner when he sat as far from you as possible but never took his eyes off you?” she asks.
I shrug. “I?—”
“And at the bar when he jumped in to defend you at every turn?”
“Well—”
“And what about when Reina and I were leaving, and you blurted out something about a video and all of a sudden you were so drunk he had to walk you upstairs to your hotel room. Alone.”
“I guess I had too much to drink.”
“Bullshit. I talked to you the whole way up to that lobby and you were far from too drunk to walk up a flight of stairs.”
I twist the mug nervously in my hands and consider my options. She obviously knows, and denying it further could make it worse. Whatever scenarios she’s imagining are probably far more wild than the truth.
Or…maybe not.
I take a deep breath and let it out. Fran sits back in her seat with a smile, knowing she’s won.
“Okay. Well, you have two options here,” I start, making up my game plan as I go along. “I can make another stupid excuse and you can decide to believe me and let it go, or you can ask me one more time, and I’ll tell you the truth.”
I hold up my hand to stop her as she starts to speak. “But once you know the truth you can’t unknow it. And you might not like what you hear.”
Fran’s smile turns feral as she sits forward and leans her elbows on the bar. “I regret nothing. Spill it.”
I sigh and take another sip of the delicious coffee for strength.
“Okay,” I start, and then come to my senses, glancing around the house. “Is Avery here?”
“No, he went kiteboarding.”
I droop slightly, my last remaining defense shot down. “Sam and I fooled around in August when he was in Austin.”
Fran’s smile turns to a grin. “I knew it. He came back from that trip all smiles and avoidance. He wouldn’t tell me a thing about his time there and why he was so late coming back. I know for damn sure it’s the first time that man has ever missed a flight.”
My mouth drops open, but I snap it closed, tucking that little tidbit of info away for later.
I need to focus here.
I know Sam’s going to freak when he finds out about this conversation, so I need to minimize the damage as much as possible. I’ll tell her the basics but leave out the incriminating details.
“We didn’t talk at all after he left. He was pretty freaked out about Dom finding out and swore me to secrecy.”
Fran mimes zipping her lips closed.
“When I got to the island, I could tell it made him nervous. He’s a freaking catch, and I wouldn't mind seeing how things went between us, but I’m not sure he’s going to go for it.”
“So, no secret island hook-ups yet?” she asks, on the edge of her seat.
I roll my eyes. “The guy avoids me like the plague.”
“But you’ve been talking.”
I toss her a sly smile. “We’ve been texting.”
Fran’s mouth drops open. “Hot texting?”
She’s loving this so much, and I wish I could feel the same.
I just feel like a traitor.
“Yeah.”
Fran sits back in her seat and crosses her arms. “We’ve all been trying to get Sam hooked up with someone, but it’s not an easy task. He’s a particular guy, and he seems to have an idea of exactly who and what he wants. Finding that person on this island has proven impossible.”
“All the other guys imported their ladies, right?”
She tosses me another smile. “That's right. And you’re an import. You could be just who he’s been waiting for.”
I shake my head. “I imported too much baggage.”
Fran’s face twists as she considers. “Yeah, Dom’s going to be a mountain to move. But every relationship has challenges. ”
“It’s not just Dom. It’s Sam and Dom. I’m not sure about the specifics of their relationship, but it’s almost like Sam’s afraid of the guy. Not that I don’t understand that. I spent my whole life terrified to be alone with Dom. But that’s little sister stuff. Sam shouldn’t be afraid of him, right? Aren’t they all partners in this business? Dom can’t fire him.”
Fran looks pensive. “I’m not a hundred percent sure of the setup with all that, but I’ll do some digging. Avery will spill just about anything if I have my top off.”
Panic floods back in.
“You’re going to tell Avery.” It's not even a question. I know how this goes.
“Nah,” Fran responds.
I narrow my gaze, pinning her with a questioning stare. “What do you mean, nah? Don’t partners tell each other everything?”
I cringe as I let out a secret of my own. I don’t know how these things work because I’ve never been in a relationship. I’ve had plenty of flings and dates and whatnot, but no one’s ever stuck around.
Fran’s either oblivious to my slip up or deciding to let it pass. “I tell him most things, but for something like this, I know for damn sure he wouldn't want to know. If presented with the info and the option to know or not know, he would choose to not know. Just to keep life at the resort less complicated. So, no. I’m not going to tell him.”
I feel relieved, which turns out to be short lived.
“But he’s going to find out,” Fran adds.
“What do you mean?”
Fran just laughs. “Everyone’s going to find out. It’s hard to keep a secret here.”
I bite my lip and try to pretend I hadn’t already come to a similar conclusion the second I set foot in that resort.
“The secret is really important,” I say. “To Sam.”
Fran’s eyebrows lift. “But not to you?”
I shrug. “I don’t have to live here and work with a pissed off Dom every day.”
Fran nods thoughtfully. “But you could. Live here, I mean.”
I let my eyes wander around the airy, Spanish tiled kitchen while I consider. “I guess. My Instagram is really Austin-based, so that would be a transition.” I shake my head. “No. It would be starting over.”
“Maybe a fresh start is what you need. It doesn’t sound like things were exactly sunshine and rainbows in your old community.”
It’s certainly not the first time I’ve considered what she’s suggesting. How could I not consider wiping the slate clean and starting over after such a huge blow? But it just feels like letting them win. If I disappear, tail between my legs, the bullies will have gotten their way. And I will have let them get away with it.
“Don’t want to let them win?” Fran asks, reading my mind.
When I glance back up at her, I’m surprised to feel a rush of emotions that mist my eyes. I nod. “They shouldn’t have done what they did. It wasn’t fair. And if I never come back, if I disappear, they will have gotten exactly what they wanted. It almost seems like an admission of guilt.”
“I get that. But you can’t live your life trying to prove things to other people. How would that even work with your job? Can you truly create content from your heart if you’re only doing it to spite a couple of mean girls?”
This woman is wise beyond her years. I suddenly feel even luckier to have landed here when my life crashed and burned. “I’ve thought about that for sure. And whether it’s ever going to feel the same to hit publish on a post when I’m constantly worrying about whether it’s going to be taken down by trolls.” I drag my hands down my face. “The PR people told me to get a few posts ready to go for next week, but I can’t even imagine what they’ll be. All I can think about is how people could react poorly to whatever it is I choose to post. You’re right. It’s not going to work if that’s how I feel.”
Fran lays her hand on mine sympathetically. “That doesn’t sound like a sustainable way to go on.”
I close my eyes as the tears rise to the surface.
“But,” she goes on, giving my hand a squeeze, “maybe it won’t be like that. Maybe time will do its job and settle this mess into the past where it belongs.”
I nod, not looking up. “Maybe.”
“Until then, you’re here, and you may as well make the best of it.” Her tone brightens, andI lift my head to see her smiling encouragingly at me.
I wipe my eyes. “It feels great to be here. I feel safe, which is not how I felt in the city for the last week I was there.”
“And we’ve got an absolutely insane wedding next week to help with the distraction.”
I’m finally able to return her smile. “Tell me everything.”
She wasn’t kidding about the insanity. The couple has pulled out all the stops planning a lavish party fit for royalty. From the armored vehicles carrying vintage wines being brought over on barges, to the African tiger refuge that’s having ten years of operating costs covered in exchange for bringing a few cubs to the island for pictures, the wedding plans Fran lays out for me are unreal.
“This is a content creator’s dream come true.”
She’s grinning at me. “So you’ll do it?”
“Oh, yeah. You couldn’t keep me away from this party if you tried.”
“Fantastic. I’ve never had someone specifically looking for ways to capture a wedding as content, so you’ll really be on your own. There will be a Sands photographer, and the couple has their own photographers, of course, but my thought was that you could just put on a party dress and let your inspiration guide you. I’ll share some of the stuff you shoot with the couple, as a bonus, but they signed a waiver allowing us to use the images from their celebration in our own promotional materials, so I’ll be holding back the best of the best for our own socials.”
“Sounds like a blast.”
“Anything you need? Camera-wise or anything else?”
I shake my head and my phone. “I’ve got the whole package right here.”
Fran glances down at her own phone. “Shoot, I have to get to The Sands for the tasting. Do you want to come?”
I smile and shake my head. “I’ll follow you back, but I have to get packed up. I’m moving up to Dom’s this afternoon.”
“Oh, that’s right,” Fran says as she gets up and starts packing the wedding notes in her portfolio. “No more private room to carry on secret affairs.”
I laugh. “Not that there was all that much carrying on happening, but yeah. Moving into the belly of the beast is going to put a damper on any possible future trysts.”
“Have you been out to Sam’s place yet?”
“We’re not exactly on going to his house together alone terms.”
Fran looks at me like she’s scheming. “It’s pretty private.”
I sigh. “I’ll be waiting for my invite.”