Chapter 2
CLEO
Idid not just drive through hours of traffic from New York City to spend my getaway weekend with Cash Bancroft.
A vacuum cleaner would be better company than him, and I loathed housework. In fact, one of my favorite fantasies—the kind I indulged in during particularly soul-crushing subway rides or while waiting for my phone to charge—was dreaming about being well off enough to hire a housekeeper.
I wouldn’t stop with a housekeeper. I wanted it all. I wanted a whole damn staff to take care of me. I wanted a personal chef, and a personal shopper for things like groceries and necessities. All the boring adulting stuff that ate up time I could be spending on literally anything else.
I would never hire a shopper for fashion or accessories, though.
Or general fun stuff. That was sacred territory.
My closet was my kingdom, and I was the only monarch who got to rule it.
Besides photography, social media strategy, marketing, and playing dress-up in my own wardrobe, shopping was basically my favorite pastime.
My least favorite? Being in a room with Cash Bancroft.
Bleh.
However, I had to admit it could be ridiculously fun to grind his gears. And he was pretty to look at. He’d probably die if he knew I thought of him as pretty. But that was because he was cynical. And boring. Pretty didn’t only apply to women. He was gorgeous. Sexy. Handsome.
But he was also an uptight asshole. He was the kind of guy you could stick a lump of coal up his ass and by the end of the day he’d shit a diamond.
“What the fuck is Captain Grump?” Cash muttered before taking a sip.
“Captain Crunch the Numbers,” I corrected. “Be a gentleman and get me a beer.”
He arched one of those dark brows that was thick and bushy and of course it looked good on him.
I rolled my eyes. “Please, Captain Crunch.”
I fought back a grin so hard it hurt my cheeks. The man was so easy. All that education, all that money, all those tailored suits, and he couldn’t handle a little cereal-based nickname.
I made my way through the kitchen, my new baby bouncing against my hip with each step.
And by baby, I meant my brand-new camera.
She was a gorgeous piece of equipment that set me back almost eight thousand dollars.
It was a tax write-off. That was the only way I could sleep at night or I would absolutely work myself up.
It was a business expense. An investment in my future.
But still. Eight grand. My credit card had wept when I swiped it.
Worth every penny, though. The camera was going to take my content to the next level. I couldn’t wait to get some shots on the beach.
“Cleo!” Melody’s voice cut through the ambient chatter. I looked up to see my best friend practically bouncing toward me.
I opened my arms just in time for her to crash into me. We hugged like we hadn’t seen each other in years instead of a week and a half. But it had felt like months. Austin and Melody had been busy spending most of their time in the Hamptons, and I’d been holding down the fort back in the city.
I was doing what I always did, managing Melody’s inbox and social media presence while she’d been living her best beachy life. I wasn’t jealous. I sounded like it, but I was not. I loved that she got her man. I had helped her get him. Kind of.
Yes, I might have been hesitant about Austin Bancroft at first, but he had proved himself. He was not the jackass I thought he was. His brother Cash, on the other hand? I was certain there were no redeeming qualities about him.
“You made it!” Melody pulled back. She was glowing like she’d swallowed lightning bugs. The inner glow was so obvious. And beautiful.
“Of course I made it,” I said. “I wouldn’t miss an all-expenses-paid weekend in the Hamptons for anything.” I paused, letting my smile turn mischievous. “Seeing you is a bonus. I could do without Lurch over there, though.”
I jerked my chin toward Cash, who was now leaning against the counter like he was posing for a cologne ad. Except instead of looking brooding and mysterious, he just looked constipated.
Melody giggled, swatting my arm. “Play nice.”
“I’m always nice.”
“You just compared my future brother-in-law to the Addams Family butler.”
“And? I stand by it. The height, the perpetual frown, the general air of disapproval.” I ticked off the similarities on my fingers. “If he starts saying ‘You rang?’ I’m out of here.”
Melody’s loud laughter filled the air.
“You look happy,” I said. “I’m happy you’re happy.”
“I am. I can’t wait for you to find your man.”
I snorted because I had given up on love. Not given up, but I was pretty sure Melody had gotten the last good one. To be fair, when she found him, he wasn’t the polished guy he was now. She had made him better.
“It’s not a priority right now,” I told her. It was easier than admitting how badly I wanted it. “Life is full, you know? I’ve got work, I’ve got you, I’ve got my camera.” I gestured vaguely at the equipment hanging from my hip. “I’m good.”
“There’s always room for true love, Cleo.” She glanced over at Austin, who was helping Kent with something near the patio doors. The look on her face made my chest physically ache.
That was what I wanted. That certainty. That partnership.
That bone-deep knowledge that you’d found your person and they’d found you right back.
I wanted someone to look at me first thing in the morning and kiss me despite morning breath.
To love all my quirks and tolerate my crazy.
Austin fed into Melody’s crazy. They had the cutest relationship.
But I was not jealous.
I just knew the likelihood of lightning striking twice.
“Sweetie, you have no idea how bad the dating world is these days. It’s bleak out there.”
She laughed. “Oh, I definitely know and I don’t envy you, but it will happen.”
She had gotten lucky. I wasn’t sure there was a Mr. Right out there for me.
I was a full-figured girlie with loud and eccentric taste.
I’d lost count of how many dates from apps had ended with men looking intimidated or put off by my fashion choices.
Like wearing a vintage blazer covered in embroidered roses was somehow a personal attack on their masculinity.
Or showing up in platform boots and multiple rings meant I was trying too hard.
They looked at the purple hair and automatically assumed high maintenance.
I really was chill when I wasn’t bouncing off walls.
Before I could spiral further down that particular rabbit hole of self-pity, Melody’s attention was pulled away to deal with her guests. “Relax. Have a drink or ten. The fridge is stocked and the bar is full. We’ll catch up properly later.”
“Go.” I waved her away. “Be queen over your kingdom.”
She laughed again, which caught Austin’s attention. The way he looked at her made my heart full. He truly loved her. I really didn’t think a guy like him was one, capable of love, and two, that he would love my best friend so completely.
More guests arrived. Melody’s parents walked in, looking sun-kissed and happy. They waved at me. I was genuinely glad to see them. They’d always been kind to me, treating me like I was part of the family rather than just an assistant.
But then, holy shit! Armand and Kathy Bancroft walked through the door.
I stared at them. Like open-mouth gaping.
Armand. Bancroft. The patriarch himself. And Kathy Bancroft. She was essentially the Queen Elizabeth of the United States. Except she was alive. Everyone knew who that woman was. At least everyone in the eastern half of the country. The Bancroft name meant something.
I wouldn’t claim to like the offspring, but Kathy was in a different realm of wow. She was in her seventies but still radiant and beautiful. She carried herself like she truly was royalty. But she also smiled a lot and it looked genuine.
I shook my head in disbelief. This was supposed to be a small weekend getaway with a few friends. Casual. Low-key. Just some beach time and good food and maybe a few too many drinks around the fire pit.
Kathy and Armand Bancroft were not low key.
“Sneaky,” I muttered to myself, suspicion creeping up my spine like a cold finger.
I needed a Diet Coke. Immediately. Caffeine and carbonation and the familiar comfort of my favorite beverage. Some people needed a cigarette, a hit on a vape, or a shot of tequila. I needed Diet Coke.
And I had come prepared. I walked toward the fridge and pulled the six-pack of Diet Coke from the tote bag.
I knew Melody would make sure she was stocked up for me, but a girl did not leave something as important as Diet Coke to chance.
What if my ride would have been stuck in traffic?
What if we would have been in an accident and stranded for hours?
I did not take those kinds of risks.
The fridge was two feet in front of me, but I couldn’t get to it. Why?
Because over six feet of glowering man candy was blocking it. I stared at him. The universal signal to move your ass.
He didn’t move. He just looked at me impassively.
“Excuse me,” I said, my voice saccharine sweet.
Nothing. Not even a flicker of acknowledgment.
“Bancroft, you’re in the way.”
One eyebrow rose in that infuriatingly aristocratic way that made me hate him even more. Like I was a peasant who’d just had the audacity to address the king without permission.
“You’re old enough to have manners,” he said, his voice clipped and cold.
Oh, he wants to go there?
“And you’re old enough to have better self-awareness,” I shot back. “Move when you’re an inconvenience. Or is that too complicated a concept? Must be all that thin air up there making you dumb.”
I let my gaze travel pointedly upward, emphasizing his ridiculous height.
His jaw tightened, and I could literally see the muscles jump beneath his skin. God, even his jaw was attractive. It was offensive how attractive he was. The man won the genetic lottery and decided to use his powers for evil—specifically, the evil of being a massive pain in my ass.
“I’m not in your way,” he said, each word precisely enunciated. “The refrigerator is large enough for both of us to access it simultaneously.”
“Oh, simultaneously? Big word for you, Bancroft. Did you learn that in one of your spreadsheets? Or maybe it was on your Word of the Day calendar? Congratulations on your expanding vocabulary.”
I waited for his sharp retort. It didn’t come.
That was the thing with guys like him. He didn’t have to say shit. He could just give you that look. The look that said you were nothing more than one of those annoying stink bugs. Or a cockroach.
He stepped aside with exaggerated, mocking courtesy, gesturing to the fridge like he really was Lurch. “By all means.”
I yanked open the fridge door, very aware that he was still standing there, watching me. The cold air from the fridge did nothing to cool the weird heat that crept up the back of my neck. This must be what it felt like when Satan himself was staring at you.
I grabbed a can, cracked it open, and took a long, deeply satisfying sip. The carbonation burned perfectly. I let out a small, involuntary sigh of happiness.
“You know that stuff is terrible for you,” Cash said.
I lowered the can and looked at him. “You know being a judgmental ass is terrible for your social life, but here we are.”
He almost smiled. I saw it in the corner of his mouth, the tiniest twitch that suggested maybe, possibly, he was not entirely made of ice and bad vibes.
I stared across the kitchen at Austin and Melody. Melody’s hand rested on Austin’s arm, both of them wearing expressions that could only be described as secretive. They kept glancing at each other, these little looks that said they were about to drop a bombshell.
Cash stood beside me, sipping his beer and watching his brother. “Something is up,” Cash said, his voice low and serious.
I took another sip of my Diet Coke, using the moment to gather my thoughts. I hated that I was about to agree with him. Hated it with every fiber of my being. But I couldn’t deny what was right in front of me.
“I hate to agree with you, Bancroft.” I paused, letting the words hang in the air between us. “But I think you’re right.”