Chapter 2
2
R AIN
“Where is he?” Evie asks, hugging me.
She breaks away from me, her eyes sparkling in the afternoon light.
A soft cotton dress hugs her body, the floral pattern and turquoise background setting off her eyes.
She drags a blue-wheeled suitcase after her.
“He left this morning.”
Her smile fades.
“Where?”
“Singapore,” I say, my voice tinged with disappointment.
“You said that, uh––”
“Yeah, yeah...” I murmur, gesturing irritated.
She studies me for a moment.
“You said you wanted me to spend the entire week with you and perhaps convince him to take a few days off. That was the whole idea. I didn’t even tell my parents I’d be here. If I did, they would’ve cut their Hawaii vacation short and flown back home. I know my mom.”
I help her with her travel bag.
“I found out about his trip at the last minute. I didn’t know he was going to leave until this morning. He just came back from Asia a few days ago,” I say, unable to conceal my frustration.
Her gaze stays on my face while she studies my expression.
“Anyway, did you bring your passport?” I ask, grinning again.
Her face lights up.
“Yes...” she says before we start walking.
She glances at me.
“So, where are we going?” she asks, her eyes glinting with curiosity. “Is it one of those Cancun beaches I’ve seen on TV?”
Laughing, I shake my head.
“Is it, Rain?” she asks, pulling to an abrupt stop and forcing me to halt.
“No, it’s not,” I say, trying to push back a smile, unable to keep my face straight. “It’s better than that,” I add, nudging her to move.
“Is it a secret?”
“It’s a surprise. You’ll see.”
“Are we going to see any hot men where we’re going?”
“Yes.”
“When do we leave then?” she asks excitedly.
Smiling, I look at her as we stroll toward the exit.
“We can leave tomorrow if you want to.”
Her eyebrows lift in surprise.
“Yes, please. Can we do that?”
Slowly, I shake my head.
“You haven’t changed a bit, Eve Malone.”
“Why should I change when this version of me works so damn well?” she says with self-deprecating humor.
We laugh.
I tip my gaze to her and observe her for a few moments.
She did change, though.
Not in the way she talks and laughs and thinks about stuff, but in the way she looks.
She is no longer the teenage girl I’d spent time with growing up–– chatting, eating ice cream, bicycling, and dreaming about boys.
At almost twenty-five, Eve Malone is a stunning woman. If only she could see herself the way I and everybody else perceive her.
In that regard, she hasn’t changed and still thinks she’s not that special.
Or maybe she’s changed, and I’m wrong.
Even for someone not self-centered like her, it’s hard not to notice how beautiful she is.
Dark long hair cascades in lazy waves down her back, framing her blue eyes and symmetrical features.
Of all her traits, her wit, humor, and kindness describe her the best these days.
Her boy-toy days are long gone, and so are her frayed shorts, plaid shirts, ripped jeans, vintage T-shirts, and camouflage boots.
The boring college clothing is nowhere in sight––no more beige and gray, dull-looking tops and boxy cut clothes.
She blames the makeover on her new job. That’s what she told me the last time we had dinner in Manhattan.
After changing jobs quite a few times in the last couple of years, she landed a position with a reputable Ad agency. And now she does brand strategy, among other things.
She was so excited when she started to work for them at the beginning of the year, and here she is now, six months later, thriving and coming into herself.
Looking so happy.
The drop-dead gorgeous woman I always knew she had in her has surfaced in her full glory.
I’m sure her love life has improved too.
She mentioned men in passing when we met in New York.
She seems more aware of her qualities, she’s more confident, and her new attitude is reflected in her clothes––she routinely opts for sophisticated skirt suits, heels, and coats with flattering cuts.
Life in New York has changed her for the better, and as we cut our way through the airport, she attracts quite a few pairs of eyes.
We navigate through groups of people before exiting the airport when Samuel, the limo driver, greets us.
He slides the door open for us before scooping up Eve’s travel gear and placing it in the trunk.
“Hmm... We’re driving in style,” Eve says as we tuck ourselves into the back seats.
“James insisted on using the limo,” I murmur, distracted.
“Life must be tough living in his Kingdom,” she jokes.
“I can’t complain,” I say, smiling.
The driver steps in and rolls up the partition wall before steering the car away.
“Mmm... This is a scenic ride,” Eve says as we leave the airport behind and the car takes the road to our hometown. “I forgot how beautiful it was,” she says, lowering the window and taking in the view.
“Yeah… It’s beautiful,” I murmur, looking outside.
She swivels her head and looks at me.
“Is everything okay?”
“Yeah...” I say quietly.
Her eyes don’t leave my face.
“What’s bothering you?” she asks.
A soft smile tugs at my lips as I keep looking away.
“Nothing.”
Silently, she stares at me. I have no choice but to look at her.
She arches an eyebrow.
“I’m missing you.”
Her eyes widen in surprise.
“Missing me?” she asks incredulously.
“Yes. Missing you,” I say, grinning softly.
“How can you say that? Everybody is here. Everybody but me, and still... ”
“Who’s everybody?”
“James. His best friends. Their women.”
I flick my hand in disagreement.
“James is busy with his new business. Ed is overseas. His girlfriend is gone too. Thea and I have never had the chance to get to know each other well. Lex is here, but he’s worked long hours since Ed left. He’s in the office most of the time. Dahlia is here, but I rarely see her since she’s gotten involved with the charity foundation.”
Her eyebrows tilt again.
“The charity foundation?”
“Yes.”
She muses for a second.
“You must be busy with your company too. Didn’t you travel to New York with business last time?”
I nod.
“Yes.”
“And your publishing business. Aren’t you writing books? Still?”
I tip my chin down again, smiling.
“Yes, I am, but not so much lately.”
“Why?”
She looks at me, her expression stern.
My smile withers away.
I inhale a shaky breath before exhaling a long sigh.
“Writing books is tricky. It can get lonely after a while.”
She studies me again.
“I do image it’s too much after a while, but you enjoy writing,” she argues, a bit puzzled.
“It’s everything I want to do.”
“But?”
I lean back in my seat, sighing again.
“I don’t know. It’s not what I imagined...” I murmur.
Her gaze drills into my eyes, searching for the real answer.
“Are you talking about your writer’s life or your life in general?”
I shrug, tearing my eyes away from her.
“Are things okay with James and you?” she asks.
I shift my gaze back to her, flicking my hand in the air, rushing to clarify.
“Everything is fine. It’s just that... It’s too much loneliness. I’m writing all day, and that’s fine. But then, there's no one to talk to at the end of the day. Everybody’s busy. And they’re all scattered all over the globe. Everywhere else but where I live.”
Our eyes stay locked for a few moments.
“Myself included,” she says.
I shake my head.
“No. I mean, yes, but it’s not your fault. You are where you’re supposed to be, and I am where I’ve always wanted to be.”
“What is the problem then?”
“I’ve told you already. I don’t know. It’s no one’s fault, yet I can’t make myself feel differently.”
Her hands slide over mine.
“Don’t worry. Maybe we’ll figure it out together this week. Perhaps a change of scenery will help.”
“I’m sure it will,” I say in a lighter voice to chase away the gloomy atmosphere.
I smile.
She slumps in her seat.
“Any news from your family?” she asks.
“My mom sent me pictures from my little sister’s birthday party. Rosalie is so cute. She’s a riot.”
I slide my finger over my phone screen, pull up a set of photos, sift through them, and show her Rosalie’s pictures.
She studies her, a smile lining her lips.
“Oh… She’s adorable. And she looks just like your dad, isn’t she?”
I study Rosalie’s photos.
“And a little bit like Daria, who took her looks after my dad as well,” I add.
She swings her gaze back to me.
“Do you have any news from her?” she asks.
I click my tongue.
“No.”
“She hasn’t called you back?” she murmurs, baffled.
“Nope,” I say, slipping my phone back into my pocket. “I’m sure she’s fine. She’s done this before–– not keeping in touch with anyone.”
“What does your mom say?”
“She’s worried, but I told her not to be. I know Daria better than she does. She probably got a new man. She’s always been like that. Once she hooks up with someone, she no longer talks to us.”
Eve stays quiet for a moment.
I tip my gaze to her.
“My mom has gotten a new man, too,” I say.
She swings her eyes to me.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“How come? She said she’d never do relationships again.”
“Well... People change. And seemingly, one of her friends turned out to be more persistent than she'd anticipated. I met him the last time I visited her. Nice man. A few years younger than my dad, good looking, retired executive. Divorced, no kids. He has a house in California and a vacation home in Hawaii.”
“Hmm... Not bad,” she says, looking at me.
“Yup, not bad at all.”
A shadow slides over her face.
“Good to know it can still happen...” she says mellowly, tipping her gaze down briefly.
“That’s what I said.”
“Where did they meet?” she asks, shifting her eyes back to me.
“A friend of Stephanie brought him to one of their gatherings. He wasn’t looking for a relationship either, and that made him click with my mother. I don’t know if he was looking for sex. If he was, I’m sure he didn’t get it. My mother wasn’t interested in one of those arrangements.”
Eve grins.
“I wouldn’t mind one of those arrangements,” she comments.
“She said it wasn’t worth the headache, so I’m sure she kept him as a friend.”
“Before their friendship turned into something else.”
“Mm-hmm.”
She sighs.
“Isn’t that how things should be?”
“I guess... Anyway, she is happy with him. He showers her with attention, brings her flowers, and takes her out. They go on trips together and spend time in Hawaii.”
“No kidding.”
“Yes.”
“Hmm… I would love something like that. I spent my weekend catching up on my reading and going down a list of chores before my date stood me up.”
“I’m sorry.”
She gestures at me.
“No need to be. A friend from work tried to fix me up with this guy.”
We lock eyes for a moment.
“You said you’d never go on a blind date again.”
She chuckles.
“Yeah, I did. And then, I did it again because this woman asked me to consider it. She insisted on introducing him to me. Then the evening came, and he called her to cancel me. He didn’t even bother to call me.”
“I’m sorry.”
She makes a soft gesture again.
“It’s okay. I got more hours of sleep.”
Her gaze dips to her hands.
“I never thought I’d say this, but your mom’s story gives me hope,” she says. “I’d love to meet someone like that man. Persistent. Predictable. Easy on the eyes.”
“That’s it?”
She gives me a sidelong glance.
“Yeah. Why?”
I shrug, my eyebrows moving.
“I don’t know. I’ve always thought you wanted something special. Different, perhaps.”
Her eyes linger on my face.
“Different how?”
I shrug again, musing over an answer when she goes on.
“I’ve had different... Every kind of different. I could write an essay about the men I’ve encountered, yet I’ve never met someone attentive like him. Like your mom’s friend.”
“Do you think he’s special?”
“Yeah, I think so… He wanted her so badly he knew how to convince her to give him a chance.”
My eyes stay on her face. A pang of sadness glints in her gaze.
“What are you saying?”
She smiles, bittersweet.
“All these years, I wish I found someone like him. Someone who needed me that badly.”
I know exactly what she means.