Chapter Ten
Diana
Diana crossed one leg over the other, leaning into the wooden bench hidden beneath the pergola and its canopy of flowers.
The air closed thick around her, pressing her dress against her skin with sweat.
At least the courtyard, being high up, brought a nice breeze from the cliffs, carrying the tickle of pollen to her nose.
Diana refreshed her phone with a swipe of her finger. Since Faye had mentioned the Wi-Fi at reception, she saw no harm in seeing what she’d been missing. She still stiffened with every passerby, though, like her phone was contraband.
The spotty Wi-Fi did little to ease her frustration.
She huffed, tapping the screen impatiently. She was better off not knowing than watching the buffering sign spin in lazy circles.
An awful realisation pinged into her brain—what if nobody had actually contacted her?
Feeling another flush, she undid a button on her dress.
She felt out of control without her day-to-day tasks, endless students needing assistance, and colleagues peppering her with questions. With Faye’s proposal swirling around her head and unwelcome memories bombarding her, she needed a little reality check.
Finally, her emails jumped up the screen. She exhaled. 108 emails. But instead of relief, a frown pulled at her mouth. She clicked on her message notifications.
Leanne: How’s the tan coming along?
Met any Portuguese hotties I can spend my lunch break daydreaming about?
Any progress with the proposal?
Diana stared at the last message for a little too long. Guilt crept under her skin, winding tighter and tighter until a dull ache spread through her temple. She wasn’t any closer to an idea for her follow-up book. Honestly, she hadn’t even thought about it.
She’d achieved what her father and Jason said couldn’t be possible.
People listened to her and engaged; her ideas and theories had pushed socioeconomics in ways others hadn’t.
She’d travelled Europe, Asia, and America, landing prestigious teaching positions at the best universities in the world.
Yet now, at the precipice of it all, her brain was failing her.
Although Leanne was her friend, her job came first. If needed, she’d let Diana go in search of the new hot talent. She couldn’t blame her for that.
Maybe Diana was already old news.
She’d always been a firm believer that age didn’t encumber her but improved life as she got older. But now she had her doubts.
The throb in her temple deepened as she clicked back onto her emails, sifting through spam and stationery sales. She skimmed a mountain of university updates and replied to her students before landing on one from her boss, the subject in bold.
New internal position. She scanned the details, her chest tightening. A permanent position. At Harvard. In socioeconomics.
She shifted on the bench, its hard wood digging into her spine. A sunburnt couple chatted as they walked past hand in hand through the courtyard, like two lobsters, folded beach towels pinned under their arms. She gave them a tight smile before looking at her screen. The words stared back at her.
It would be a lot to juggle. The book tour, writing, increased classes, more marking…
Molly. And she’d travelled the world teaching.
Giving that up and settling down in one place itched at her, though she couldn’t put her finger on why.
But a permanent job at one of the best universities in the world was hard to pass up.
Hard to pass up and extremely competitive.
And she’d just taken three weeks off, which meant Selena would already be chomping at the bit. Great timing.
“What are you doing hiding in the shadows?”
The cheerful voice made her head snap up from her phone. Faye grinned back at her, another oversized white T-shirt drowning her tall frame. She could barely make out the hem of the denim shorts poking out underneath—shorts that revealed long, slender legs.
“I’m not hiding.”
“Good.” Faye quirked an eyebrow, her eyes drifting to the patch of skin above Diana’s cleavage. “’Cos you’re quite the standout in that dress.”
Diana couldn’t stop her lips from lifting. Faye’s surprising confidence always seemed to defuse her.
Faye’s focus dropped to her phone. “Everything okay?”
“Work stuff.” She lifted her shoulders, trying to ease the tension slinking into her muscles.
“Bet your students are missing you.”
“I doubt it.” The image of Selena Borgo strutting up and down Diana’s class, speaking in her fancy French accent, made her sigh, annoyed that the woman had gotten under her skin. “They’re well looked after.”
Faye took a seat beside her, and Diana breathed in the mix of vanilla and perfume and something else that she was beginning to recognise as inherently Faye.
The rumble of tyres against gravel grew louder, and then Ella appeared on the buggy, red hair flying out behind her.
She waved as she drove past, then parked at the reception, hopping out and singing a tune to herself.
When she disappeared through the door, the quiet lingered, birdsong carrying on the wind.
“I was checking my emails,” Diana said. “My boss has announced a new permanent position.” She shook her head, feeling foolish for voicing it out loud. “But…I don’t know. It’s made me more confused about what I want.”
Faye didn’t jump in; she just listened, her careful eyes observing her.
“I’ve always been driven,” Diana continued.
“I’ve known what I wanted. Each paper was a burning idea I needed to write out of my system.
My book was the same. Nothing else mattered until I’d finished it.
Teaching those ideologies felt right—a natural progression.
I never doubted myself. But now? Doubt is all I’m sure of. ”
“Is that why you came to Sandy Springs? To get a break from it all?”
She brushed a hand through her hair. “I told my agent I would use the time to work on my proposal for my next book.”
“It sounds like you’re a little burnt out.”
“Burnt out,” she repeated, with curled lips, like it was a slur. She caught concern in Faye’s soft eyes. In the sunlight, the green and blue danced together, forming a new colour Diana had no words for.
“When was the last time you enjoyed a day without ticking items off a checklist?” Faye asked. “When you did things that made you happy, for fun?”
Diana frowned as she combed her brain. “I’m not sure.”
Deciding to study alongside raising Molly had been her decision.
She’d pushed for her education. Earned it.
Worked hard to get where she was. But a sickly uncertainty swirled in her gut.
The long nights, the endless meetings, the pressure to keep performing and doing and creating.
When did she start doing that for someone else, and not for herself?
She turned her phone over in her hand, suddenly feeling its weight. She had an urge to throw it over the stone wall and let it tumble down the cliff.
Faye leaned back into the bench. “You don’t seem like the type of person who takes breaks. Am I right?”
Diana nodded, but her mind was still somewhere else. Maybe that’s why she felt so detached lately.
“Maybe you should take a break these few weeks.” Faye nudged her playfully. “I think that was kinda the point of being on a remote island.”
Diana let out a breath that wasn’t quite laughter. “I can’t really argue with that.” When she looked back at Faye, something in her chest fluttered.
Faye’s gaze held hers. Steady. Grounding. Kind. “You don’t need all the answers right now,” she said.
“No. I suppose not.”
Faye’s eyeliner had smudged at the edges, her cheeks tinged pink from the heat. But as Diana let herself admire her for a moment longer, the finer details shone through. How her small nose perfectly balanced her square jaw. How beneath the make-up, she was jaw-droppingly gorgeous.
Until now, Diana had never noticed how unaware Faye was of her own beauty. The subtle way her hand rested over her abdomen. The baggy T-shirt. How she made herself small. She hated how she hid herself away.
Her gaze dropped to Faye’s mouth.
A tingle spread from her sternum, dropping down into her navel. Excitement buzzed around her. A feeling she hadn’t experienced in so long, it felt foreign. Like an out-of-body experience, lifting her up and out of her skin.
So why did she feel guilty? Like she should be doing anything but exploring this?
“I should probably go,” she said, hating the way disappointment flashed over Faye’s features.
“Okay. Catch you later.” Faye smiled and stood to leave.
Diana watched her go, wondering why she’d said anything at all. There was no denying her attraction to Faye, yet her mind pushed back at the first sign of feeling something.
Maybe because this trip wasn’t supposed to be about you, but about Molly.
With that reminder, she headed back up the trail to the cabins, the sun hot on her back. Faye’s conversation played on her mind, her stomach warring with opposing feelings.
Why shouldn’t she feel excited over the prospect of someone being interested in her? Not in her position or her connections, but in her, Diana Thompson?
Yes, this holiday was for reconnecting with Molly, but there was no reason Diana couldn’t do something for herself, too. Her lips quirked at the idea. Why not have some fun? She worked hard. She deserved a break. Faye was right.
Part of her wanted to turn back around, to find Faye and tell her the truth about what was on her mind.
Her heart skipped in her chest at the implication of getting to know her better, setting something alight that fired through her whole system.
Then the cabins popped into view, and newfound clarity washed over her.
Maybe Molly needed a bit of fun, too.
So she dipped into her cabin, taking the bottle of Dom Pérignon from the fridge in the kitchenette.
She’d received it a year ago from her boss, after exceptional student grades, and had been saving it for a special occasion.
Might as well toast this change of mindset.
Even if Molly wanted none of it, Diana did, so she was going to drink it.
She knocked on Molly’s door, bottle in hand, and waited, bouncing on her toes. The muffled slap of sandals against stone echoed on the other side, and then it opened.
“Hey, Mol. Fancy a glass of this out on the back?” She waved the bottle in the air.
Molly eyed the offering like it was poison before giving a small shrug and leading Diana through her cabin, out onto the private balcony.
Two potted plants flanked a small wooden table and two chairs.
A black railing separated the patio from the pink and yellow wildflowers growing in the spaces behind the apartments.
The sea rolled and frothed in the distance, peeking through the gaps between the buildings.
Though not completely private, the area was sheltered from most of the neighbours.
Absolutely worth the price upgrade, in Diana’s opinion.
“What’s the occasion?” Molly asked as she sluggishly fetched two glasses from the kitchen and placed them on the table. She slumped into her chair, and Diana tried her absolute best not to frown at her dressed in her pink pyjamas.
Molly should be out there exploring, meeting people, taking advantage of this place.
Not lounging inside in her sleepwear. Was this what she’d been doing since dropping out of university?
She pushed the thought from her mind, trying to focus on the carefree feeling from earlier and not the stern-professor mum-mode she so easily slipped into.
Have fun.
She blew out a breath. “No occasion. Just thought it would be nice.”
Molly eyed the bottle warily, like it had a coiled-up snake hidden inside. “Seems a bit hypocritical, don’t you think?”
That landed like a punch to the gut.
“An alcohol-free course and you sneak a bottle of ridiculously expensive champagne in?”
“It’s not a big deal.” Diana shrugged. “It’s not like we’re flaunting it in front of the staff.”
Every muscle in Molly’s face seemed locked into stone. Cold, carved, and unmoving. Then her mouth broke into a wide grin, revealing the small gap she’d inherited from Diana’s mother. A rare, genuine smile. “You’re a bit of a rebel. I like it.”
Diana laughed, offering her the bottle. “Do you want to do the honours?”
Molly took a while to loosen the cork, and Diana had to nip her hand to stop herself from interfering. Finally, she popped it, sending the fizz flowing over the glasses. Molly shot her a panicked look. “Oops. Sorry about that.”
Diana bit her tongue at the sight of a hundred pounds’ worth of top-quality champagne pooling on the stone ground. “It’s fine.”
“Trust me to spill the most expensive champagne I’ll ever drink.” Molly handed her the glass, sticky liquid dripping down the stem and onto Diana’s fingers.
“It was just a gift from my boss. Don’t worry.” She caught the dip in Molly’s expression at the mention of her work and sat a little straighter. “But we’re not talking about work. Or your future. Or any of that stuff.”
Molly’s eyebrow lifted. “No?”
“No. I brought this too.” She dug in her pocket and placed a pack of cards on the table. “Remember how we used to play rummy?”
“God. I haven’t played that in forever.” Molly laughed, and for a moment, her eyes held that same flicker of excitement she’d had when she was a little girl. When she still wore frilly socks, and her favourite band was One Direction. “Sounds fun, though.”
Fun. Yes, that was what they needed. Diana couldn’t remember the last time they’d really had fun together. Guilt nipped at her, but she pushed it away, gripping the stem of her glass and lifting it to Molly’s.
“Cheers,” she said.
Their flutes clinked; they took a sip. Then Molly dealt the cards.
Diana savoured the crisp sharpness of the champagne as it rolled over her tongue, and her mind wandered to Faye. It was official. This trip, she was taking a break.
It was time to truly enjoy herself.