Chapter 35
CASH
Istood on the balcony of the beach house, watching workers assemble the white tent. In less than twenty-four hours, my brother would be married.
The morning air was crisp, carrying that distinctive Hamptons’ scent of salt and money. I’d arrived late last night, slipping into my assigned room without encountering anyone. A strategic choice on my part.
My fingers drummed against the railing. The coffee in my other hand had gone cold. I’d been standing here for thirty minutes, telling myself I was admiring the view when really I was just watching. Waiting.
For her.
“There you are.”
I turned to find Finn looking annoyingly well-rested. “Here I am,” I agreed.
“You look like shit.”
“Thank you for that assessment.”
He came to stand beside me, following my gaze to the beach. “They’re doing final rehearsals at eleven. Austin’s about to have a nervous breakdown because the florist delivered the wrong shade of whatever-the-hell flowers he ordered.”
“Peonies,” I said without thinking.
Finn raised an eyebrow. “Since when do you know flower varieties?”
“I don’t.” I took a sip of my cold coffee and grimaced. “Just heard him mention it.”
The truth was Cleo had told me. And for some crazy reason, I remembered. I supposed that proved I had paid a lot of attention to her. More than I did most people.
“Right.” Finn wasn’t buying it. “You planning to hide up here all day?”
“I’m not hiding.”
“Sure you’re not.”
I shot him a look. “Don’t you have someone’s wife to seduce?”
“Not until the reception.” He grinned. “Seriously, though. You can’t avoid her forever.”
I didn’t bother pretending I didn’t know who he meant. “I’m not avoiding anyone.”
“Bullshit.”
“I’m respecting her space.”
“You’re a chicken shit.”
“Don’t you have somewhere to be?”
“As a matter of fact, I do. We do. Someone may or may not have gotten their hands on some Cubans.”
I left the solitude of my third-floor suite and followed Finn downstairs. Austin was already there, looking nervous in a way I’d never seen him. Hayes and Isaac were arguing about something. Probably sports. They always argued about sports.
Austin offered me a cigar. “You look like shit, by the way.”
“Thanks.”
“Told you.” Finn grinned.
Hayes looked up from his argument with Isaac. “Heard you gave Dad hell.”
“News travels fast.”
“It’s a small family.” Isaac grinned. “Well, not small. But gossipy. Very gossipy.”
“I didn’t give him hell,” I said, accepting the cigar. “I told him I needed some space to evaluate my role in the company.”
“That’s giving him hell,” Hayes said. “For Dad, that’s basically treason.”
Austin was quiet. We hadn’t talked much since I’d gotten back from Rome. He’d called once to congratulate me on “growing a spine” but I’d cut the conversation short. I wasn’t ready to talk about it. I still wasn’t ready.
I had gone into hibernation. I didn’t want to talk or be influenced. I was trying to get my shit together and didn’t need anybody’s opinions.
I lit the cigar and tried to focus on the conversation around me. Finn was telling some story about a woman he’d met in LA. Hayes was still arguing with Isaac. Austin was checking his watch every thirty seconds like the wedding might start early if he willed it hard enough.
“Nervous?” I asked him.
“No. Yes. I think I’d prefer it if someone just waved a magic wand and we were married. I’m not nervous about the marriage. I’m worried about the wedding. So many variables.”
“Like you’ll fall on your face,” Finn joked.
“Thanks for that,” Austin muttered.
“You’ve been walking since you were eleven months old,” I said. “You’ll be fine. It’s all about putting one foot in front of the other.”
“Shit. Big bro has jokes,” Hayes said.
“I’m providing assurance. He can’t remember how to walk. I’m reminding him he can.”
“With Melody’s morning sickness, she’s worried the nerves are going to make her nauseated. So, until that asshole said it, I wasn’t worried about my ability to walk. I was worried about my bride puking on my tux.”
The guys started giving him shit, bringing up stories of puking after nights of drinking. I puffed the cigar and tried not to think about Cleo being somewhere on the property.
And then I heard it. Laughter. Completely unguarded. Cleo. My whole body reacted. Every muscle went tight. My attention zeroed in on the sound coming from inside the house.
Three weeks. I’d managed three weeks without seeing her, without hearing her voice. I’d love to say I hadn’t thought about her, but that was a lie I was not brave enough to tell. I was pretty sure lightning would strike.
“Cash.” Finn was looking at me. “You good?”
“Fine.”
“You don’t look fine. You look like you’re about to bolt.”
“I’m not bolting.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
I took a drag of the cigar and tried to appear relaxed. Tried to focus on the ocean view and my brothers. Anything except the fact that she was inside and I was out here and every fiber of my being wanted to go to her.
I’d hoped the time apart would help. That distance would make this easier. I really hoped that when I saw her this weekend I would feel… less.
I didn’t feel less. I felt like I was being pulled toward her by a force I had no control over. A gravitational pull. Animal magnetism.
“I’m going to get a drink,” I said abruptly.
Finn raised an eyebrow. “There’s drinks out here.”
“Different drinks.”
“Right.” He was smirking. “Sure.”
I left the patio and went inside. The house was full of people. Mostly family. I nodded at a few of them as I passed. I headed for the kitchen.
She was standing at the island.
Of course she was. Diet Coke in hand, wearing a floral sundress that should have looked casual but somehow looked devastating.
Her streak of purple hair caught the light from the windows.
She was laughing at something Melody said.
Her whole face was lit up. I stopped in the doorway and just looked at her.
Three weeks. It felt like three years.
She turned and saw me. The laughter died. Something flickered across her face. Was she feeling the same pull I was felt?
And then that softness was gone. “Cash,” she said. Neutral. Careful.
“Cleo.” I walked over to the fridge, trying to look purposeful. “How was the drive out?”
“Fine. Traffic wasn’t bad.”
“Good. That’s good.”
Melody was watching us like we were a particularly interesting tennis match. “I’m going to go check on something. Upstairs. Far away from whatever this is.”
She practically ran out of the kitchen. Cleo took a long sip of her Diet Coke and didn’t look at me.
“Can we talk?” I asked.
She set down her drink. “About what?”
“The wedding. This weekend. I just want to make sure everything is okay.”
“You mean you want to know if we can be professional?” She finally looked at me. “Don’t worry. I’m very good at being professional.”
“I know you are.”
“Then what do you want to talk about?”
Everything. Nothing. How I haven’t slept in three weeks. How I destroyed a car with a baseball bat because I was so angry at myself for walking away from you. How you’re the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing before I fall asleep.
“I want to make sure this weekend goes smoothly,” I said instead. “For Austin and Melody. The last thing I want is tension between us that they have to navigate.”
“There’s no tension.”
“Cleo, there’s a little awkwardness.”
“We’re just two friends at a wedding together.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “No need to make it weird.”
Friends. She’d reduced us to friends. Like Rome had never happened.
“Right,” I said. “Friends.”
“Is there anything else?”
Yes. I’m sorry. I was wrong. I miss you so much I can barely function. Please give me another chance.
I opened my mouth. Nothing came out.
She waited. Three seconds. Five. Then she picked up her Diet Coke. “I should go help Melody unpack,” she said. “See you around, Cash.”
She walked past me. Close enough to touch but I didn’t. I watched her go and stood there in the kitchen like an idiot holding a beer I didn’t even want.
“Smooth,” Finn said from the doorway.
“How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough to witness that tragic display of emotional constipation.” He walked over and took the beer from my hand. “You’re an idiot.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m serious. That woman just gave you an opening the size of the Grand Canyon and you stood there like a deer in headlights.”
“She said we’re friends.”
“She was giving you a chance to correct her.”
“Was she?”
“Oh my god.” Finn set down the beer. “You really are an idiot. How can you be so smart and such a moron?”
“I don’t know what to say to her.”
“Try ‘I’m sorry.’ Try ‘I was wrong.’ Try literally anything except standing there looking like someone kicked your puppy.”
I ran a hand through my hair. “It’s more complicated than that.”
“Why?”
“Leave it alone.”
He walked away, leaving me alone in the kitchen.
I heard more voices on the patio. My brothers. Austin’s friends. And then a voice I recognized immediately. Deeper, authoritative, impossible to ignore.
Fuck me. This was going to be the longest weekend ever. My father.
Of course. Of course he would show up early.
I walked back outside. I couldn’t hide from him. I wouldn’t hide. He’d called a couple of times since our conversation, but I kept it short and sweet. I didn’t have an answer for him. I was still trying to decide what I was going to do.
“Cash,” he said in that cool tone that meant I was in trouble. It was the same tone he’d been using since I was a kid.
“Dad.”
“How’s the sabbatical treating you?”
“Fine.”
I could feel everyone watching. Austin looking worried. Hayes and Isaac suddenly very interested in the ocean view. Finn ready to intervene if this went south.
“We’re fine,” I said. “Excuse me.”
I walked off the patio, down the steps, and straight onto the beach. I didn’t look back. Didn’t wait to see if anyone followed.
I needed to clear my head.
I realized the folly of my choice about fifteen seconds later. Sand sank into my shoes. I kicked them off, rolled off my socks, and stuffed them in my shoes.
I curled my toes in the sand, closed my eyes, and let the scent of the sea wash over me.