Jaime
JAIME
The sunlight catches on my engagement ring as I raise the strawberry mojito to my lips. As always, it feels heavy in a way that has nothing to do with the sparkling two-karat diamond.
I’ve already been back to Fisher Island more times this school year than the last three combined, and I’m not happy about it. There are precious few weekends left of college and I want to enjoy them. I want to go out with my girls and have fun. If I’m going to be chained to Louis and his family for the rest of my life, I think it’s only fair I get to enjoy my last few months of freedom first.
Mom does not agree.
When I told her as much, she told me in no uncertain terms that I was coming home because Louis had flown all the way from Italy to spend a rare free weekend with me. When she’d suggested he could come to Oregon if I was unwilling to travel to Florida, I booked my own flight. The idea of Louis at Franklin West—of everyone finding out—causes me to shudder.
A shadow falls over me and I look up to find a sweaty Louis staring down at me as he grabs his water from the table. “Are you all right?”
I smile from under my sunhat, trying to muster something at the sight of him shirtless and glistening with sweat from his tennis session. Sure, he’s got a great body. I’m not blind. I’m also not interested.
“I’m fine,” I reassure him. “Nice serve.”
Louis smiles and swaps his water for a towel, patting his face. “Thanks. I think I’m about done. I’ll grab a quick shower then come out and join you.”
I watch him head back up the path toward the house, towel slung over his muscled shoulder and wish I did feel something. It would make things so much easier.
My phone vibrates on the wrought iron table, and I pick it up, expecting it to be one of the girls.
MOUSE: How’s your weekend going?
Before I can think better of it, I take a selfie with my mojito and send it in reply. He starts typing immediately and I sip my drink with a smile waiting for his response.
MOUSE: Not as good as the oat milk vanilla latte you could be having right now at Joe For Joe
I shake my head, about to put my phone down when I see the dots appear again.
MOUSE: You look gorgeous btw
My smile widens, and even though I know I shouldn’t engage in this conversation while I’m waiting for Louis to return—or ever, if I’m being honest—I type out a response.
ME: Thank you. So do you
Grinning at my own hilariousness, I take another sip of my drink. Louis asked whether I wanted to go into Miami or somewhere else to spend the day together, but honestly, the whole thing’s so awkward, I figured it would be better to stay here. The house is big enough that there’s no chance of driving each other up the wall, and I have no idea if my parents are actually home. Not that it would matter if they were. It’s not like Louis and I will be doing anything that requires privacy.
Butterflies swarm in my gut as I recall Zak’s whispered words at the Hive, my heart squeezing at the way he’d clearly been so relieved to hear I haven’t been intimate with Louis yet.
Yet .
My phone buzzes on the table and I scoop it up, thankful for the distraction. Holy shit. I sit up, lifting my sunglasses as I stare at the photo Zak sent through. I figured from his last text that he was out in Portland, but clearly not.
Laying on his bed, he’s shirtless, one arm bent behind his head, every muscle is on display as he smirks at the camera. It’s the kind of smirk that should make me roll my eyes—that should make me dislike him. But it doesn’t.
MOUSE: Thx
Biting back my grin, I type out a reply.
ME: What you up to today besides sending thirst traps?
MOUSE: Got a paper due. What u doing with him?
An unexpected rush of sadness steals my breath and I put the phone down, my smile a distant memory. I get what he’s doing. It’s not like we can forget it’s happening. And apparently, we’re ‘friends’ now.
“I brought you out a fresh one.”
I turn at the sound of Louis’ voice to find him approaching the table, two mojitos in his hand. He hands me the strawberry one, keeping the regular for himself, as he sits down opposite me.
“Thank you.” I return his smile. “Feel better?”
“Absolutely,” he says, running a hand through his still-damp hair. “Sunshine, exercise, and beautiful company. Life couldn’t be better.”
I look away, hoping he thinks I’m being demure. He looks like he’s just stepped out of a country club magazine in pressed shorts and a pale blue shirt. Is it bad I wish he was an asshole?
My phone buzzes and I glance down at the notification. It’s from Zak, but it’s just a single emoji. I frown at the screen. Why would he send me a carousel horse?
“Everything okay?” Louis asks.
My skin heats and as I pick the phone up and turn it face down, another message comes through.
MOUSE: Just say the word
I’m half tempted to text him back to ask him what the hell he means, when it clicks.
A white horse.
Putting the phone down, I smile at Louis. “Everything’s fine. When do you have to go back to Europe?”
He sighs and takes a sip of his drink, crossing his ankles. “First thing Monday morning, unfortunately. I would have liked longer.”
“Well, I have class on Monday morning, so if you stayed, you’d be by yourself.”
Louis gives me a lopsided grin. “You wouldn’t have blown off class for me?”
“Sorry, I’m just not that kind of girl.” I laugh. “Besides, it’s not just class. I can’t miss work.”
Louis turns to me, his dark blond eyebrows raised. “Work?”
“Yeah. I intern three days a week at KBCX,” I explain. “It’s acting as course credit for my degree.”
I hold his stare as I sip my drink, wondering if he’ll mention the coincidence that his family own the station, but he looks more confused than anything.
“Why would you do that?” he asks.
I blink. “Because it’s invaluable experience. If I want to own my own network one day—”
“Excuse me?” Louis sits forward, a deep frown creasing his handsome features.
Unease settles in my stomach, and I straighten, taking off my sunglasses and placing them beside my drink. “That’s my goal,” I say carefully. “I want to run my own television network.”
Louis rubs his chin, his frown showing no sign of leaving. “I didn’t realize.”
“Realize what?”
He continues to frown, and I shift on my seat. Surely, he knows I have no plans to take over my father’s business. It’s never once been an option. And I’m glad of it. I’ve sat through enough conversations with business partners he brought home for a ‘family dinner’ to know that it doesn’t interest me at all.
“This won’t do,” he says, almost to himself. “I’ll have to check the agreement.”
“What?” I snap, no longer able to hide my irritation. “What won’t do?”
Louis’s features pinch as he looks at me. “I didn’t realize you thought you’d be working.”
“What else would I be doing?”
“Well.” He makes a vague gesture with his hands as though it’s obvious. “You’d be traveling with me most of the year. At least at first. I’d need you on hand to attend events and dinners with me. And, if we’re going to conceive, it helps if we’re on the same continent, right?”
All the blood drains from my face. “What?”
He smiles, reaching out and covering my hand where it’s gripping the table. “Of course, once we start having children, you’d stay in London with them.”
What the actual fuck?
“London,” I echo.
“Naturally.” Louis squeezes my hand. “It’s all in the prenup. Did you give it back to the lawyer? I haven’t checked.”
Apparently, it’s me who should have checked. I hired a lawyer to look it over for anything that sounded out of place, but perhaps I should have been more specific. I realize now, they were thinking about protecting my money. What I should have asked them to look for was whether it was protecting my fucking life.
“Just how many children are we having?” I ask through gritted teeth.
“Four would be wonderful,” he says, his smile growing. “I always wanted a big family.”
I can’t breathe. Pushing back my chair, I stumble to my feet. “Sorry. I think the sun and the alcohol has made me a little queasy.” My hand moves to my chest, where my heart slams beneath it.
Louis stands, too, his smile fading as he looks at me with concern. “Let me walk you inside.”
“No. Please.” Stepping away from him, I snatch my phone from the table and back away. “I’ll be fine.”
He opens his mouth to protest but, before he can utter a single word, I turn and walk as fast as I can back down the path.
My feet move quickly, pulling me toward the house and through the doors, not slowing until I reach my bedroom. Closing the doors behind me and flicking the lock, I stand in the middle of the room breathing hard.
This can’t be happening.
Storming over to my dresser, I wrench open the top drawer and pull out the unsigned prenup. Leafing through with trembling hands, I scan for words like ‘employment’ and ‘career’ but I’m not entirely sure what I’m looking for and the words blur before me.
Tossing the papers back down on my dresser, I collapse on the bed as my tears threaten to overflow. Just when I think I can make the best of the situation, life throws another wrench in.
I can’t. I can’t be one of those wives who just follows her husband around, smiling and hanging on his arm between popping out kids. Four apparently. I’m not even sure I want one .
Rolling onto my side, my phone digs into my hip and I tug it free. Zak’s notification is still there, and I stare at the little white horse through blurry eyes.
Maybe I do need rescuing after all.