Chapter Thirty
I burst outside, into air that is humid and thick and cloying with the perfume of flowering trees. I have loved this air with every breath I’ve taken on this trip, but right now I want nothing more than the foggy marine layer of Los Angeles in May. I want the sound of traffic and neighbors arguing and the smell of food trucks. I want to teleport myself off this island, back to my shitty apartment and my old couch where I don’t have to pretend to be anyone but Anna Green: Aquarius, cheese lover, and Enzo’s Pizza VIP customer discount card holder. I don’t know what’s going on back in that tent, but there’s no way in hell I’m staying to watch the rest of it.
Am I okay? No.
But will I be?
Probably also no.
I mean, Liam is still in there being humiliated by his brother, but I feel like I was decimated. Alex exposed Liam by destroying me.
My optimism about the world and the people in it has been ripped wide open, exposing the stain of humanity underneath it; I can’t unsee that. And I won’t ever forget this bone-deep feeling of humiliation, either, especially when there’s no way for me to exit this island before someone who witnessed that garbage diatribe sees me. This is very much a “never show my face in this establishment again” kind of situation, and yet I am unable to exit said establishment, being that it is an island in the middle of an ocean. Maybe I should raid the Old Hollywood costume stash and be Elvis until I can get on a fucking plane out of here.
I press my hands to my ribs, trying to pull in a full breath as I pace. The tide rolls toward the shore, water lapping at my feet and darkening the hem of my dress. I barely notice. I don’t know if this feeling is anger or sadness or humiliation, but I do know that when a hand comes around my arm, all I can see is Alex’s pinched, vengeful face, and for the first time in my life, my instinct is to react with violence.
My hands come up to a chest before I’ve taken the time to look at a face, and I shove, hard.
Liam stumbles back, his hands up. “It’s me.”
With a sob, I dive into his arms, and he holds me, his lips pressed to the top of my head. Several long seconds pass where he just rocks slightly, cradling me to him. Down the beach, in the tent, noise rises again. Music, voices, the clinking of glasses and silver on porcelain.
The show must go on.
Liam’s voice rumbles against the crown of my head. “Are you okay?” he asks.
“No. Are you?”
He steps back, taking my chin between his finger and thumb. “I’m more worried about you. I thought he was going after me. He didn’t. You took a real beating in there.”
My “yeah” comes out a little soggy. I don’t want to care what Alex said or what anyone else in that tent thinks of me. Would I care what they thought of my clothes or my hair or my job if I saw them on the street? No. They’re just like the people I serve at Amir’s Café—some of them are good, some of them are awful—none of them are better than me or Vivi or her parents or even Ricky in any of the ways that count. Well… maybe better than Ricky. The thing is, I don’t want to care. But I do.
“This is all my fault,” he says.
“It’s ninety-five percent your fault,” I tell him, sniffing. “I take five percent responsibility for agreeing to come. But this is what you’re paying me for, I suppose. For the odds that something like tonight happened.”
He stares miserably down at me. “I’m so sorry, Anna.”
“I know.” And I do. Regret is written all over his face, but so is the adoration he’s been wearing for days. We may have started with a crazy lie, but this much, I know, is real. “I don’t belong in this world, Liam, and everyone has always known it.” Humiliated tears surface again and I irritably swipe them off my cheeks. “I never fooled anyone.”
He shakes his head, swallowing thickly. “Anna, I want you to know that it was never my intention to set you up like that.”
“I know.”
Liam searches my eyes. “When I was dreaming up our story, I chose the path I genuinely thought you were taking. And at the time, it didn’t matter what the fake you did or who the fake you was, not really.” He swallows again, his eyes growing pained. “I want you to know—I need you to know—that I am not ashamed of your path as an artist. Not for one second. I think the real you is wonderful, exactly the way she is. You are funny, courageous, creative, and silly. You are honest and vulnerable. You are forthcoming and self-reliant. You are sexy as hell and amazing in bed.” I laugh, and he smiles. “I am well on my way to falling for you, and fuck anyone who makes you feel small. Fuck them.”
I let him pull me into his arms again, resting my cheek on his shoulder. A part of me really needed to hear him say that.
“I just want to get home,” he whispers. “But this is such a mess. Fuck. Alex doesn’t even know what he’s done.”
I lean back, looking into his eyes, searching. “What happens now?”
“I’m not sure yet,” he admits, shaking his head. “Dad got up in there and tried his best to make Alex look drunk and unreliable, and everyone wants to keep eating caviar, so it seems like most guests are laughing it off and planning to gossip their guts out later.” He inhales, steadying himself. “I’m sure they’re all still in there. And when the guests are gone, that’s when the real shit will go down.”
HE’S NOT WRONG.
The guests drift back to their villas, cheerfully drunk and sated in both caviar and gossip. Once everyone’s gone, and the staff has mostly cleared the tent, Liam and I link hands, exchange a brief kiss of solidarity, and walk inside to find a miserable assortment of Westons. Alex is slumped in a chair, his elbows on his knees, staring grimly at the floor. Ray stands near the bar, face red and neck veins bulging. Next to him is a man I don’t know. They talk quietly, each slowly spinning a highball glass filled with what looks like whiskey. Jake leans against a tent pole on the far side of the room, scrolling on his phone. Janet fussily tidies while Charlie whispers angrily to Kellan in the corner. Only Blaire, who I’m guessing has gone to get the kids to bed, is missing. Lucky her.
The chandeliers are still lit overhead, Charlie’s elaborate cake, half-eaten, sits on a heavy crystal stand, waiting to be boxed up. Gold streamers litter the floor. It’s a beautiful mess and we’re walking right into the middle of it. How fitting.
As we enter, all eyes turn our way.
“Nice of you to join us,” Alex mumbles.
“I’m surprised they even came back,” Ray says. “That little stunt was un-fucking-believable.”
Alex looks up in surprise, as if trying to read his father’s tone. “Which one?”
Ray laughs humorlessly, pushing off the bar to walk over. “Which one? Your speech, you moron.”
And I truly never imagined a situation in which I’d ever feel bad for Alex Weston again, but this manages to penetrate my anger. Yes, Alex is annoying and intense and an enormous asshole and I suspect not very effective at his job and, while we’re at it, probably a terrible lay, but objectively Ray deserves a majority of the blame.
But Liam steps deeper into the room and addresses his father. “Don’t blame him. Blame me.”
“I’ll blame whoever I want,” Ray says, still staring at Alex. “Clearly Alex thought I didn’t know about Liam and Anna and decided sharing it with the world at the same time he was telling me was the way to go.” My jaw ratchets slowly open. He knew? This whole time?
“At my wedding,” Charlie sobs. “My wedding, Alex.”
Alex looks around, incredulous. “Does no one care that Liam has been lying for years? That he brought a literal gas station attendant to your wedding, Charlie?”
Oh, fuck him. “I think you mean a former gas station attendant,” I say, giving him the finger. Liam turns to look at me, laughing despite himself.
“You think this is funny?” Ray asks Liam. “You think this is all a game?”
“No, Dad.” Liam turns back, sobering. “I think this is a very serious, very aggravating situation, and one entirely of your own making. I’ve told you in every way I can that I didn’t want to be part of this company. And still, you keep pushing, you led us right here, when Alex is standing there, wanting this.”
“He’s a finance nerd,” Ray says, exasperated, like he’s said this every day of his adult life. “It’s not a good fit.”
“If you didn’t think it was a good fit, you could have trained him to be a better one. You could have sent him elsewhere to gain the experience you thought he lacked. But you didn’t do that.”
“Because it makes sense for you to take over.”
“And I don’t want the job!”
“Because of the fucking Pisa nonsense?”
Pisa. The word sparks a memory: Ray and Liam shouting that word on the trail the day of their groomsmen fitting.
I feel the room go still, and everyone looks at Liam, who very slowly walks closer to his father and calmly says, “Because of a lot of things. But yes, Dad. Because of the Pisa nonsense.”
I glance around the room, looking for a clue as to what Pisa is. Everyone is pointedly looking somewhere else. Charlie lets out a frustrated growl that mirrors the confused aggravation building in my chest. “What is that?” she yells. “What is Pisa? Just tell me! I’ve been hearing about this stupid thing for years!”
“Not now, Charlie,” Ray says with seething quiet, his eyes never wavering from Liam.
“Why?” she says, standing in her beautiful wedding gown on what should be the most magical night of her life. Her new husband sits at her side, and I wonder if Kellan had any idea what he was getting into. Are all those houses and private islands worth it? “Why not right now?” she presses. “It feels like everything else is coming out tonight so why not—”
“NOT NOW, CHARLOTTE!”Ray roars, turning his eyes to her.
Charlie, bursting into tears, runs out of the tent. Kellan follows.
Liam sighs, wiping a hand over his mouth. “Well done, Dad.”
Ray’s jaw clenches, and he pulls a sharp breath in through his nose. “What’ll it be, Liam? The company and your inheritances, or your pride? I want you to think long and hard about what this could mean.”
All motion inside me stops. It’s the four-hundred-million-dollar question. I look around, wondering if anyone else caught his wording.
Inheritances.
But neither Jake nor Alex seems to have registered it. They simply watch Liam. So maybe they didn’t hear it? Is it possible they have no idea what Alex has done?
Just walk, I plead silently to Liam. Walk away from all of this. None of you need that money. And frankly, none of them deserve it.
With a sigh, Liam looks over at me. But before he can speak, Jake steps forward. “He’s married, Dad. That’s the rule. And look at them. No one can tell me they’re not in love.”
Alex shakes his head. “Maybe they’re just fucking.”
“Who’s fucking?” Blaire says, choosing this moment to return to the tent. Her timing really is impeccable.
Alex deflates, cupping his hand over his forehead. “Jesus Christ.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Jake says. “They’re married. Legally. I was a witness. In three months, it will be five years and the balance of the trust will officially be secured.”
Ray snaps his fingers. “Peter? Want to weigh in?”
The stranger I’d forgotten about pushes off the bar, stepping forward and clearing his throat. He slides one hand into his pocket like he’s addressing a jury, and immediately I know he must be a lawyer.
“The clause in the will stipulates that the grandchildren are required to enter into a marriage based on mutual admiration, respect, love, and devotion,” Peter says. “Your grandfather put that stipulation in because he wanted to encourage happy, secure marriages, which in turn would ensure a happy, secure company. A marriage in name only goes against the very core of what he wanted, and in my legal opinion would void the fulfillment of your trust.” He looks over at Liam. “Your current affections could be argued in court, of course, but it would be very easy to prove that you and Ms. Green have not been cohabitating or, indeed, very familiar at all until recently.”
Liam’s looks over at me and I try to tell him with my eyes: Walk away. This isn’t only up to you. Your father has a choice here, too. He doesn’t have to screw his children out of money his father left them.
“So I’ll ask you again, son,” Ray says, lifting his chin to the side, toward Jake and Alex. “What’ll it be? You or them?”
At this, Jake frowns, something landing wrong to his ear, and I know for certain that he doesn’t understand the full scope of what’s at stake here.
I hate everything about this moment so much that not even Liam’s giant hands over my mouth could have kept me from losing it. “Are you fucking kidding me?” I seethe at Ray and try to not cower as the room turns to gape at me. “Seriously, is this a joke? Am I part of a documentary about how the proletariat reacts in the presence of insanely rich assholes?” I look over at Alex, who gapes at me. “Yes, and fuck you specifically, Alex, you enormous shitstain. I know what proletariat means, and I know what fork to use. I googled it before I got here, you dick.”
Jake barks out a laugh. “Damn, Alex, she’s—”
“Not now, Jakey,” Janet murmurs, and then looks at me, brows raised expectantly.
Expectantly… like she’d love to see me try to fix this. Me, a veritable stranger. Janet could end this in an instant but she never would.
What a coward.
Rage makes my blood sublimate into smoke, and I take a deep breath, turning to face the toxic patriarch. “Ray, you are without question the biggest asshole I have ever met in my life, and I used to work the overnight shift at the lost-baggage counter at LAX. You are a random dude, not a king. You treat people in your life like they are bargaining chips, trophies, or minions.” I gesture around the room. “These are your sons, not chess pieces. You treat Alex like he’s no more valuable than some dirt on your shoe and treat Liam like he’s a Lamborghini you can drive wherever you want. I don’t know how you treat Jake because I’m not sure you even notice him. Do you not see how horrifically poisonous you are? Or how much your children are hurting? How on earth do you sleep at night? Honestly, tell me.”
Blaire lifts a tipsy hand. “Two trazodone and a big glass of red wine works for me.”
Ray tilts his head at me. “Who the fuck are you to come here and talk to me like this?”
“I’m Anna Green. I’m a painter and a daughter and a former convenience store cashier and part-time waitress and I’m lucky to be married to your son. I don’t know what choice Liam is going to make, whether he’ll agree to your truly fucked-up terms or whether he’ll choose himself for the first time in his life, but I can tell you this: no matter what happens tonight, it’s only a matter of time before every single person in this room leaves you, and I think you know it.”