Chapter 6
6
G race woke up to the warm feeling of the sun on her face. As she opened her eyes, she realized that she was alone in the king-sized bed. Stretching with a big yawn, Grace sat up and surveyed the room. Her suitcase sat open on the chair, the contents strewn around, clear evidence of her drunken night. Grace groaned and crawled out of bed. Out of curiosity, she opened the hall closet to search for a robe. Inside, two plush white robes hung on hangers.
“Bingo.”
Grace grabbed one, feeling the soft material rub against her arms as she slipped into it. Behind her, the door beeped, signaling someone was entering. Grace hurriedly tied the robe closed as the door opened.
Elara strode through the doorway, holding a brown bag and a paper coffee cup. Seeing Grace standing in the hall, Elara stopped in her tracks.
“Oh good, you’re awake.” Elara held out the coffee cup and the bag. “Here.”
Grace tentatively reached for the items. “What’s this?”
“I noticed you didn’t drink the brewed coffee yesterday. It’s a cappuccino.”
Smiling appreciatively, Grace sipped the cappuccino and let out a soft mmmm. It was a caramel cappuccino. Her favorite.
Confused, she looked up at Elara. “How’d you know my order?”
“You charged yesterday’s cappuccino to the room. I just asked for whatever you ordered yesterday.”
Grace opened the bag and spotted a chocolate chip muffin and a small paper box containing a single dose of Tylenol.
“I figured you would need carbs and meds after that much wine last night,” Elara explained.
Grace set her cappuccino down as she sat on the bed. Smiling up at Elara, she said, “That was very thoughtful. Thank you.”
“Well, you wouldn’t be the first victim to the Silver family hangover. Not many escape that.”
Grace blushed, remembering how she stumbled around the room and chuckled. She certainly hadn’t expected to be wine drunk in front of so many people. As she munched on the muffin, her eyes finally landed on the clock.
Jolting up, she cried, “It’s noon! Oh my god I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to sleep so late. Did I miss anything?”
Elara coolly watched Grace, her calm demeanor exuding ease. “You haven’t missed anything. Today is meant to be for everyone to explore the resort. The events will be later this afternoon. I’ve reserved us a spot for the cooking demonstration and class later this afternoon. You have plenty of time to get ready.”
Grace sighed in relief as she sat back down. “Oh. Good.”
Elara simply watched Grace as she continued to down her cappuccino, saying nothing. Between sips, Grace would flick her eyes up at Elara and admire the way she looked in her gray slacks and silver sweater. Something about her was softer, although it certainly didn’t soften the hard planes of her tall frame.
Grace finished off her breakfast in silence, the only sound being Elara’s fingers softly tapping on her iPad. As soon as she stood, she realized that nearly all of her legs were on display, and Grace hurriedly closed the robe, announcing that she was going to get ready. As soon as she closed the door, putting up a physical barrier between the two, Grace covered her face as she turned bright red.
When Elara’s eyes had trailed up her legs, the memory of last night came flooding back. Grace felt so embarrassed at how much she had wanted Elara to grip her hip.
Turning the shower on, Grace chanted, “It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s not real.”
The smell of garlic and aromatics wafted through the room as the chef explained the first steps of making a pan-roasted duck breast. Grace felt her mouth watering at all the delicious smells around her. Next to her, Elara was discussing some upcoming business deal with the executives at their table, but the sound of their conversation was nearly drowned out by the clatter of pans echoing throughout the fully chrome kitchen. There were only a handful of people who chose to attend this cooking class, hosted by the executive chef of the resort. Elara had carefully chosen seats next to some of her business associates, leaving no room for her brother or his wife to sit near them.
Grace considered trying to pretend to be part of whatever important conversation was happening beside her but just couldn’t pull her attention away from the chef giving instructions. She had always loved watching her mother cook, although her childhood kitchen was nowhere near as pristinely scrubbed as this professional space.
Pulling her out of her reverie, James leaned over and surprised Grace by commenting, “She’s always like that. All business, no fun, eh? Does she ever have time for you, Grace?”
Grace blushed, looking down at the meal she was preparing to avoid eye contact. “Elara is driven. It’s part of what makes her special.”
James’s smile grew sharp, a knowing look in his eyes. “Driven at work, but never at home. I’m surprised she even brought you here.”
Grace blinked at the thinly veiled implication and moved her gaze over to James’s wife, Julia. “I’m sure you know how it goes, being married to a Silver and all.”
Julia thankfully caught on to Grace’s attempt to change the subject and smiled kindly. “I certainly do. Sometimes I have to drag him out of the office just to go to dinner.”
At this, Julia playfully pinched her husband as she continued, “But as passionate as he is about work, he is doubly so in the bedroom.”
James coughed as he looked at his wife in surprise. Grace couldn’t hold back the nervous laugh, sounding slightly hysterical. Elara turned at the sound and coolly stared down her brother.
“James, I hope you are being nice. I know Mother would be disappointed to find out you are not being a gracious host.”
Not wanting to cause a rift in the family, Grace grabbed Elara’s elbow with a reassuring squeeze and explained, “Julia and I were just discussing the Silver siblings’ capacity for passion.”
Elara’s eyes widened, prompting Grace to let loose another nervous giggle.
Elara lowered her voice, saying, “I hope you aren’t revealing too much of our bedroom secrets now.”
Seeing Elara’s discomfort, James dug his claws in. “She hasn’t revealed anything, Elara. Although I’m not sure there is much to reveal, now is there?”
Elara narrowed her eyes at her brother, retorting, “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”
James turned to Grace. “Where did you meet my lovely sister again? She almost never leaves the office these days.”
Feeling trapped, Grace looked back and forth between Elara and James before replying, “Through mutual friends.”
Before the inquiry could continue, waiters came around serving the pan-roasted duck with plates full of samples of the local produce the staff used in the kitchen. Grace felt her stomach flip with anxiety as she ate in silence.
Grace stood in front of the mirror, fussing over her curls that refused to stay in place. She had chosen to wear it down tonight, trying to tame her usually messy mane into an elegant shape. As she tucked one side behind her ear, the unruly curls began to pop out in a halo. Grace sighed as she shoved in yet more pins, finally forcing her hair to behave.
Grace felt as if she were teetering on the edge of a cliff, with no idea how to get things back in balance. Nothing seemed to go as she had expected today. Elara had seemed kind—thoughtful, even, with the cappuccino and breakfast—but then she had been distant, barely looking at her most of the day. Then there was Elara’s brother, James. What was with that guy? Up until that point, Grace thought that the family was curious, not outright suspicious. James had basically called them on their bullshit, and Grace was left floundering on how to fix this situation.
She tried to remind herself that this wasn’t her problem. Elara was the one who needed to convince her family. Though no matter how hard she tried, the guilt ate at her. She had made a promise, and Grace did not take that lightly. The problem now was how would she fix this?
Deciding that her hair wasn’t going to get any better, Grace smoothed her hands over the thigh slit in her muted gold dress, making sure that everything was in place. Looking at herself in the mirror, Grace felt pleased with how she looked. The off-the-shoulder neckline showcased her collarbones and the barest hint of the swell of her breasts, but the long sleeves and floor-length hem kept the details demure. Everything was picture-perfect, just like the Silver family.
As she opened the door to the bathroom, her breath caught in her throat at the sight of Elara in cream slacks and a gold sweater that perfectly matched Grace’s dress. Elara's sharp lines looked sculpted by an artist. At the sound of Grace entering, Elara turned around and stopped short. Grace could feel Elara’s cool gaze travel up her body, assessing her inch by inch. She should feel cold and insecure, but her skin burned every place that Elara’s gaze lingered. The two stood in silence for a moment, intense gazes not quite meeting the eyes.
Eventually, Elara simply held out her hand. “Ready?”
Plate after plate of the most divine seafood dishes passed in front of Grace. Her eyes couldn’t help but grow wide with each course served. Ceviche, seared scallops, smoked salmon blini, paella, and more. Each course was served with a white wine pairing, keeping the conversation flowing with a growing volume. Grace ate in silence, watching closely as the Silver family conversed as if they were holding court. Not wanting to be the victim of too much alcohol once again, Grace continued to sneakily pour her wine into the plant beside the table. It felt like a crime to waste such delicious—and probably ridiculously expensive—wine, but if she was going to keep up with the Silver family, she needed to be clear-headed.
As the assortment of dessert tarts were served, everyone’s attention suddenly turned to her. Swirling his wine slowly as he looked between Elara and Grace with a sharp gaze, Victor asked, “So, Grace, how exactly did the two of you meet again? Through mutual friends, was it?”
The pit of her stomach dropped. Grace knew this was somehow a trap, but she had no choice but to answer him.
“Yes. Friends of ours thought we would hit it off.” Grace turned to Elara, silently begging for help. “And they were right.”
Smiling tightly, Elara’s fingers brushed the stem of her wine glass as if to anchor herself. Yet she said nothing, her lips frozen in place.
Margaret tilted her head, offering a polite but clearly skeptical smile. “Which friends, dear? I don’t think I’ve heard of any new names.”
Grace again looked to Elara, hoping for her to cut in, but Elara’s eyes were wide, her smile still frozen in place.
Looking back to Elara’s mother, she replied, “Oh, um...Diane and, uh, Steven? You probably wouldn’t know them. They’re not exactly in your circle.”
Victor cut in, his smile still in place but never reaching his eyes, “Ah, Steven and Diane. And what do they do?”
Panic began to take root, making Grace’s head swim. Searching for any excuse to think, Grace slowly sipped her wine as she tried desperately to make eye contact with Elara, who was stoically still staring at nothing.
Dread filled her veins. “Steven is in tech. And Diane’s a, uh, florist.”
Margaret chuckled softly, exchanging a glance with Victor. “Interesting pair. I’d love to meet them sometime.”
Unable to take Elara’s silence, Grace swiftly kicked her under the table in a last-ditch effort to salvage the situation. Finally coming out of her stupor, Elara coughed before she interjected, “Well, they travel a lot—Europe, mostly. They’re not around much.”
Eleanor set her wine glass down with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Well, isn’t that convenient?”
Forcing a smile in a pathetic attempt to lighten the mood, Grace replied, “It really was, though! The timing worked out perfectly.”
Eleanor’s eyes twinkled as she leaned forward slightly. “Yes, I can imagine. Timing is everything, especially with...these kinds of arrangements.”
A loaded silence hung over the table as Elara shot her grandmother a warning look. The sound of a champagne bottle being popped made Grace jerk, the tension in the room having wound her tight. Glasses clinked as the bubbly liquid was poured. The guests began to file over to the window where the waiters were handing out flutes near the warm fire. Grace jumped out of her seat, thanking the heavens for the excuse to flee this situation, although her relief was short-lived.
Following close behind her, Victor picked up a flute and handed one over to Grace. Elara stiffly walked up to Grace as Victor joined Margaret on the couch. Leaning back, Victor continued his inquisition. “So, Grace, what is it you do? Elara hasn’t told us much about you.”
Grace’s smile faltered as she gulped down the entire glass of champagne. Her voice wavered as she replied, “Oh, well, I dabble in a few things.”
Finally coming to the rescue, Elara swiftly interjected, “Grace is very creative. She’s between projects right now, but she’s always got something exciting going on.”
Margaret arched a brow, giving a sweet but pointed look. “Between projects? How...interesting.”
Grace snatched another flute of champagne from a passing waiter and drank deeply, desperately hoping to find a solution to this mess at the bottom of her glass.
Eleanor smirked as she leaned back in her chair, clearly enjoying the tension.
“Well, at least Elara finally found someone who keeps her on her toes. And you two must be very close already to vacation together.”
Trying too hard to sound casual, Grace replied, “Oh, absolutely! We’re practically inseparable.”
Grace downed the last of her champagne, warmth spreading through her chest as realization hit. There was only one way to salvage this. Straightening her spine, she stepped into Elara’s personal space, close enough to feel the heat radiating off her. Without missing a beat, she turned to the family with a deliberate smile.
“Well, this has certainly been an interesting night.”
Before anyone could respond, Grace looped her arms around Elara’s neck, pulling her in close. She leaned in, her voice low but loud enough to be heard by those nearest. “Let’s go to bed.”
Elara’s sharp blue-gray eyes locked with Grace’s, flickering with surprise. Grace held her gaze, silently pleading. Please, just go with it. A second stretched into forever before Elara’s expression shifted, realization settling over her. And then, finally, she closed the remaining space between them, her lips meeting Grace’s in a kiss.
What began as a chaste touch quickly unraveled. Grace’s heart pounded, her breath catching in her throat as Elara’s soft lips pressed more firmly against hers. The kiss deepened—slow, deliberate, but far more intense than she had planned. Heat shot through her veins, setting every inch of her skin on fire.
Elara’s hand slid up Grace’s back, her fingers digging into the delicate fabric of the dress, pulling her closer. The scent of sandalwood, amber, and a hint of spice flooded Grace’s senses, leaving her dizzy and gasping for more. Every thought, every worry, every carefully rehearsed lie evaporated, until all that existed was the feeling of Elara’s lips, warm and insistent against hers. Grace’s knees felt weak, her body pressed against Elara’s like it was the most natural thing in the world.
For one reckless moment, Grace imagined herself undoing every button on Elara’s suit and dragging her to bed right then and there.
The sound of someone clearing their throat cut through the haze, snapping Grace back to reality. She broke the kiss, gasping softly as she pulled back. Her pulse roared in her ears, and the absence of Elara’s touch left her feeling cold and unsteady.
Elara stared at her, eyes dark and unreadable, as if waiting for Grace to bolt or say something. Instead, Grace let her hands drift down from Elara’s neck, her fingers trailing slowly down the soft sweater, feeling the strength in her arms before intertwining her fingers with Elara’s. The warmth of their joined hands felt like an anchor, keeping her grounded in the storm of emotions swirling between them.
Grace spared a look at the Silver family behind her. Some looked shocked, jaws slack and eyes wide. But Grandma Elle looked like she was on the verge of laughing. Her eyes twinkled with mischief and her smile brightened her face, making her look ten years younger.
Eleanore chuckled and broke the silence. “Well, it seems the happy couple is done for the evening.”
After her proclamation, Grandma Elle stood from her chair and motioned for her grandson to help her over to the fire. Soon, the rest of the family followed suit.
Squeezing Elara’s hand, Grace whispered, “Let’s get the hell out of here while we still have the chance.”
The walk back to their suite was shrouded in silence, broken only by the soft echo of their footsteps along the marble hallway. Grace’s heart pounded, still reeling from the kiss. Every nerve in her body felt like it was on high alert, her skin buzzing with the memory of Elara’s lips. She snuck a glance at Elara, but her face was unreadable—cool and composed, as if nothing out of the ordinary just happened.
Grace felt a knot tighten in her stomach. What just happened? Did that kiss mean anything? Or was it just another piece of the performance, something to placate the family and keep up appearances?
The weight of unspoken questions pressed between them, thickening the air.
They walked side by side, close enough for their arms to brush, but neither made a move to close the gap. Grace’s hand twitched at her side; she wasn’t even sure what she wanted to do, only that the space between them felt unbearable.
When they reached the suite door, Elara opened it without a word. Grace stepped inside, her heartbeat loud in her ears. The sound of the door clicking shut behind them was deafening, sealing them in together, alone with the unacknowledged tension crackling between them.
Elara exhaled sharply, as if she had held her breath the entire way back, and Grace felt the air shift. But still—nothing. No explanation for the inquisition, no apology for freezing up on her, no admission that the kiss was more than a show.
Grace shivered, the heat in her veins cooling rapidly. Elara really wasn’t going to acknowledge what happened? Fine. Two could play that game. Grace strode over to her suitcase, grabbed her pajamas, and rushed into the bathroom, letting the door slam behind her.
Grace took her time getting ready for bed, making sure to occupy the bathroom for as long as possible. Did she need a second shower for the day? Probably not. But was she going to take the longest shower in history? Yes. Yes she would.
She took as long as possible, meticulously scrubbing every inch of her skin with the lavender-scented soap provided by the resort. The scalding water slowly melted away the stress of the evening, loosening her muscles. Despite her best efforts to maintain her irrational anger, by the time Grace stepped out of the bathroom in her softest leggings and neon purple fuzzy sweater, she felt too tired to maintain anything but exasperation.
Grace rubbed her wet hair with the towel as she watched Elara tap away on her iPad. Standing at the end of the bed, Grace continued to stare at Elara, waiting for her to acknowledge her presence, but no matter how long she stood there, Elara refused to look up. Huffing in frustration, Grace threw the towel into a corner of the room, hoping to provoke Elara into making a comment about the mess. Still, Elara said nothing.
Sighing in defeat, Grace finally turned off the lamp on her side and crawled into bed. As soon as Grace was under the covers, Elara put her iPad down and murmured, “Good night.”
Grace glanced over at Elara, watching her carefully in silence, waiting for something, anything to happen. Instead, Elara simply turned off her lamp and got under the covers. Disappointment flooded through Grace as she murmured a quick good night in return.
Praying for the sweet release of sleep, Grace forced her eyes closed and turned her back to Elara. But no matter how hard she tried, she just could not fall asleep. The feel of Elara’s lips burned into her brain as she replayed the kiss over and over in her head. All of the tension, confusion, and frustration swirled around in her mind, making it impossible to fall asleep, much less lay still. Hoping to find a comfortable position, Grace tossed over to her other side.
Grace sucked in her breath in surprise to find Elara was facing her, eyes open in the dark. Shafts of silver moonlight lit the shape of Elara’s body beneath the covers, providing the barest of light for Grace to notice the way her eyes glimmered with unspoken thoughts. Once their eyes met, Grace felt her heart flip. In the deep of the night, she felt lost in Elara’s piercing blue gaze. She searched Elara’s face for any hint of what she was thinking, but her expression was unreadable.
Grace felt frozen, unsure if she should say something. Every inch of her wanted to reach out and cup Elara’s face, feel the way her hands would mold to her sharp edges. But fear gripped her, stopping her from acting on her desires. Elara had been the one to kiss Grace, and since that moment, they had barely spoken a word. While Grace might be burning alive in attraction, she wasn’t sure if Elara felt the same.
Grace sighed, silently chanting, “ It’s all a game. It’s not real. It’s all a game. It’s not real.”
Unable to bear the tension anymore, Grace flopped over onto her back. As she lay there in the dark, slowly fading into sleep, she could feel Elara’s eyes roam her face and body, never looking away.