Chapter One #2
I internally groan at her calling her 1.
4 million followers "Heathies." Considering that 70% of them are men who want in her pants, I doubt they care where she is—only that she's half naked. Even though I’m aware that she is making an incredible amount of money, the fact that it is all based on her appearance is a bit concerning.
She's one step behind OnlyFans at this point.
"Hey, this isn't a work trip, remember?" I nudge her with my elbow as I try to make light of the fact that she seems to only care about photo opportunities.
"Excuse me, but I have to work. That's how I make my living!
I can't just jet off to some small, unknown town on a whim and not take advantage of the opportunity to create content for my followers.
Plus, you never know, this place might have some hidden gems that could boost my engagement even more.
" Her dedication to her career has always been undeniable, and I used to admire her for it.
Somewhere along the line, though, her content changed and now it all feels superficial.
"A whim? It's Charlie and Hayes' wedding; you've known them for over twelve years."
She abruptly stops walking, her overpriced white sneakers squeaking on the exceptionally clean floor as she throws her hands in the air.
I brace myself; I should have known better. She has always been one to throw an epic tantrum when someone challenges her.
“Are you kidding me? Charlie never even asked me to be one of her bridesmaids!
" She crosses her arms, glaring at me, waiting to shoot down any rebuttal I have before she continues.
I don't; I have no control over what Charlie does or doesn't do, so I just stay silent.
"And Hayes? He barely even acknowledges my existence!
I was only invited because I'm your date. " Here we go again.
It's unbelievable that even after all this time, she's still fixated on his lack of interest in her.
She throws it in my face whenever I bring up Hayes, who has only ever been polite toward her.
I've tried to talk to him about it, but he just shrugs it off, saying she's not his girl or his problem. I get it; he's always been naturally reserved toward people he isn’t close with. I can acknowledge that it may be partly my fault. Hayes has been my confidante since before we even knew what that word meant. He’s always the one I go to when I need to vent during fights and inevitable break-ups.
I have no doubt he's built some resentment toward her over the years, but I don't know how to fix it at this point.
She is who she is, and he is who he is.
"Look, I'm sorry you're feeling that way. I know…" I scramble for words that won’t undercut her feelings or talk badly about Charlie and Hayes. "I know things have always been strained, but I really appreciate you coming with me and spending time with my family."
She uncrosses her arms and looks slightly more appeased, so I pull her into a hug.
"Maybe we can get a workout in tomorrow before they need me.
I can record you for some content and give you some tips you can share.
" That has her brightening up immediately as she begins chatting excitedly about how much Ian, her social media manager, will love that.
I try not to roll my eyes at the mention of Ian; the guy has been a pain in my ass for the last two years.
Trying to convince me to be in all her stuff and promote that I'm a SEAL, ignoring the fact that it could put my career in jeopardy being that public.
It's been an argument popping up more often than not, so I tend to just ignore his name.
We followed the signs down the wide corridor, toward the ballroom.
The dark wood floors contrast against the warm cream walls, making each step seem more luxurious than the last. We passed at least three small alcoves that feature stone fireplaces, lounge chairs, and impeccable views.
The secludedness they offer has me yearning to sit down and get lost in a good book.
It’s not long before we see large double doors that are already open, an elegant sign that says “ballroom” is overhead.
Even I feel impressed with how incredible this room is.
The front of the room features an imperial staircase that leads to an upstairs balcony.
Beyond the staircase, the ballroom appears to be fully set up for the reception tomorrow.
Tucked between the dance floor and expansive floor-to-ceiling windows are opulent couches that overlook a meadow right below the mountains.
A full bar and tall tables sit off to the right, and to the left is a long table set up for the reception dinner.
The decorations appear to only be floral arrangements of all different colors, sizes, and heights.
The atmosphere is fun and elegant, just like Charlie.
My admiration grinds to a halt when I spot a woman behind the long table, teetering atop a ladder, rifling through the bouquets.
She's wearing a long-sleeve fleece button-up flannel, short black running shorts, and dusty cowboy boots. Her brown hair is thrown into a tight pony that swishes behind her as she moves.
My jaw drops when she yanks another flower out of the bouquet, muttering something under her breath, and tosses it carelessly down below her. It feels like my brain is struggling to comprehend who this lady is and why she’s dismantling Charlie's centerpieces at a five-star resort.
Heather notices where my gaze has landed and immediately stalks over to the woman.
"Excuse me," she says, starting to scold the woman.
When it's clear she still hasn't noticed us yet, Heather glances over her shoulder at me like, "What the fuck is happening?"
I shrug and motion for her to continue.
"Hello! What are you doing?" she yells, placing both hands on her hips.
The woman startles and quickly turns to look at us, nearly falling off the ladder.
"Oh, shit!" She grabs onto the ladder, catching herself.
"Sorry." She holds on this time and looks up at us, her smile getting brighter when she seems to recognize us.
"Oh, hey! You must be Drew and Heather! I knew your flight was early, but you guys made great time! "
I bristle at her familiarity. Who the hell is this woman? Hardly anyone calls me Drew; it's either Andrew or Reynolds, mainly depending on whether I'm in uniform or not.
"It's Andrew," I corrected her, my tone clipped. "Who are you?"
Her smile falters for a moment, taking in my hostility.
"Oh, I'm Olivia, Charlie's friend and… boss?
" She scans my face while talking, noticing the lack of interest, and then adds the last part like it's a question.
Her left hand reaches over to twirl her wedding ring, the tell-tale sign of her nervousness.
I recognize her name immediately, and my mood only grows more sour.
Hayes briefly mentioned her when he was looking for Charlie in Three Sisters, a few years ago.
All that I really know about her is that she’s married with kids, Charlie started working for her, and then she lied to Hayes when he called to talk to Charlie.
Since then, I tend to tune out any mention of her.
"Great." My voice drips with sarcasm. "What the fuck are you doing?"
When she notices my temperament toward her hasn’t changed, her expression morphs from apprehension into defiance. She plucks another flower—a white rose—and narrows her eyes at me.
“Your sister despises roses—well, white roses," she twirls the flower pointedly, "but especially white ones.
" She looks at me, one eyebrow raised and lips slightly pursed.
"The whole stalker, harassing her situation.
" She drops the flower like it's a mic drop, effectively putting me in my place.
I flinch as remorse and anger surge through my body; it happens every time I think about Charlie's stalker.
Charlie left South Carolina because of a neighbor who fell in love with her and began stalking her.
The man went from friendly to obsessive when Charlie didn’t return his interest, doing everything he could to get Charlie’s attention.
Feeling backed into a corner, she just left.
She wouldn't tell anyone where she was or where she was going.
Charlie was practically a ghost; aside from the occasional contact she had with Hayes' mother, Connie, she was nearly untraceable.
It took Hayes close to a month to track her down and discover what was going on.
He even gave up his career as a Navy SEAL to be with her.
He found her here, put an end to the stalker situation, and won her back in the process.
I respect the hell out of him for giving it all up and protecting her like that.
Olivia continues on her rant. "The florist must have forgotten, even though Charlie repeatedly told her she didn't want them," she adds, emphasizing her annoyance with the florist. Her tone becomes somber as she sighs, "I'm just trying to fix the mistake before she gets here.
" Her brown eyes almost look a little misty-eyed, but she quickly blinks them away and gets back to work on the bouquet.
I may have my issues with Olivia for playing a role in hiding Charlie from us, but I can at least acknowledge her loyalty to my sister. I pinch the bridge of my nose, nodding my sentiments.
Heather, on the other hand, decides to ignore the good deed Olivia is doing and hits her with a jab instead. Distain drips from her voice as she motions toward Olivia’s boots and shorts, "And the outfit? To a 5-star resort?"
I almost chuckle; she isn’t wrong. Olivia looks like she couldn't decide between going to the gym or a rodeo.
When Olivia looks down at her outfit, her eyes widen slightly, and then she lets out a loud, vibrant laugh. "Isla, Charlie's assistant, called me in a panic when she saw the florist bringing the flowers. I guess when I raced out the door, I instinctively just put on the closest shoes I could find."
Who instinctively puts on shit kickers that look like they truly only kick shit?
Charlie and Hayes chose that moment to walk through the door. Hayes noticed me first, giving me a chin tip as a broad grin crossed his obnoxious face. "'Bout damn time your ugly mug showed up," he bellows through the room.
Charlie looks over, her expression making all the drama this morning worth it. "DREW!" she beams as she sprints to me.
I lift her up and spin her around before setting her down. "Hello, Mrs-soon-to-be-Carrington!"
The scoff in the background comes straight from Olivia.
Hayes nods and says hello to Heather, but bypasses her as he walks over to Olivia. Indirectly proving Heather’s point that he doesn’t care for her. I watch him whisper to Olivia, but I can't make out what they’re saying.
I glance back to Charlie, who is chatting animatedly with Heather, giving me the opportunity to step a little closer to Olivia and Hayes.
In a hushed voice, he lets out a string of curse words, followed by, “I owe you, Liv. Thanks."
She smiles and gestures with her head toward Charlie, "All good. Just get her out of here before she decides to call the florist and raise hell."
He rubs the back of his neck and nods. "Maybe she deserves a good ass chewing, though."
"Don't worry, I already handled it. The florist is giving you a small refund and waving the delivery fee."
"You're the best. I'll distract her; we were planning on showing the new arrivals around town anyway."
Her smile dims a bit at the mention of Heather and me. She glances at us, but quickly looks back to Hayes when she catches me staring. The sugary smile is back as she tries to hide her mixed feelings toward us. "Great, have fun!"
With that, Hayes starts hustling us out of the room, ignoring Charlie’s protests that she didn't get to talk to Olivia. Putting my arm around her, I poked at her rib. "Let's go, little Sis! Show me this town you can't bear to leave.”