21. Elizabeth
I’m going to murder Todd.
I’ve been in Cape Cod for two entire days, and have yet to have any time alone with my sister. And it’s all because Todd has a knack for proposing last-minute plans “for the whole family” in front of the kids.
It’s maddening how easy this is for him, and how the entire world just seems to bend to his will.
After my parents head back to Connecticut because they can’t possibly reschedule a dinner with their other retired friends, I try my best to help Jane.
I entertain the kids, giving her time to take a shower and eat lunch in peace, while Todd lounges by the pool like a pampered house cat.
I keep hoping he’ll wake up with the kind of sunburn that requires hospitalization, but he, of course, has a golden glow that many would pay hundreds of dollars to achieve.
A few minutes ago, Todd roused himself from his pool chair and I thought he might actually join his family in their painting activity. But then he whispered something in Jane’s ear that had a blush crossing her cheeks and led her to the stairs, the intent obvious.
As Eddie finger-paints something akin to a Rothko, Emma creates perfect little daisies, and Ellie takes an approach that would make Jackson Pollock proud, I consider my options. I don’t have to stay here. But if I leave, that will likely give Todd exactly what he wants—and I refuse to do that.
My phone buzzes on the table beside me, and I only feel a little bit bad when I hope it’s a work emergency that requires my immediate attention. But it turns out to be an entirely different kind of emergency.
WES GRANT
how’s cape cod
I ignore the small thrill lighting up my chest and move directly to the more important question of how the hell does he know where I am?
But then I remember: Todd said it in front of Wes, right before I lost my mind. I haven’t let myself think about that night. Though going to Wes’s room took the edge off, I should never have done it. The fact that he’s texting me is precisely why.
I have to put an end to this.
Do not contact me unless you have a work-related message.
WES GRANT
are you going to punish me if i disobey you
Well, hell. There’s no denying the way my stomach flips and amusement pulses through me. But I shouldn’t find this amusing. I shouldn’t feel excited by bratty behavior. I never have before. But there’s something about Wes that—
No. I’m not thinking about this.
Especially since in the span of sixty seconds, Ellie has made Eddie her new canvas. He’s screech-laughing as she covers his face in blue and green blobs, much to Emma’s distress. “Aunt Lizzy, make them stop!”
“I’m face painting! Like at the fair!” Ellie says. “Eddie likes it!”
I freeze. Kids have never been my forte. Plus, I have no idea what Jane would do in this scenario.
“Stop!” Emma shrieks, and that snaps me out of my uncertainty. I may not know how to gentle-parent like Jane, but I do know how to handle a burgeoning crisis.
“Ellie,” I say, putting a bit of command in my voice. “When you’re done with face painting, you’ll be in charge of washing Eddie’s face.”
“Will you take a picture of my masterpiece first?” Ellie asks, immediately negotiating. Her instinct is actually impressive.
“Yes.”
“Okay,” she says easily.
Emma’s expression is still pinched, and boy, do I get it.
Learning that things won’t always go according to your plan is a hard lesson.
It’s something I’ll never truly embrace and that I dislike greatly.
I need people to listen to me, to respect me, to follow my authority without question.
It’s why I do the job I do. And it’s definitely why I can only come when I’m telling a man what he can and can’t do in bed.
‘Except that’s not entirely true anymore, is it?’ a voice whispers in my head.
I grit my teeth.
“I’ll help wash Eddie’s face,” Emma says. “Otherwise, Ellie will turn the bathroom into a water park.”
I nod approvingly. “Good plan.”
I’m guarding Jane’s massive beach bag as she art directs her kids, when my phone buzzes.
It should be update from Arjun. He said he’d get edits back today on the profile he wrote about Martine, and I’m very curious if the angle he and I discussed is going to make it to print.
But when I look at my phone, I nearly scream.
WES GRANT
i saw the news that great white sharks have been spotted near cape cod. i need to know if that was your doing and if your brother-in-law is now shark food.
My mouth twitches, but I refuse to let myself smile.
WES GRANT
i’ll happily accept any punishment you deem necessary for the impertinence of that last message
This time, I can’t hold the smile back.
I appreciate your confidence in my inter-species communications skills. Todd is still on land. For now.
Jane snaps photos of her kids in their incredibly preppy outfits as they use little yellow and blue pails to collect sand and shells.
Todd decided his time was better spent posting on LinkedIn or plotting the takeover of Mars or whatever, so he said he’d come by when he was needed for photos.
God forbid he spend time with his family and help his wife.
If I weren’t here, Jane would be handling three kids, her camera, a tripod, and a humongous beach bag, all on her own.
Maybe I should figure out how to communicate with the sharks.
My phone buzzes again.
WES GRANT
but seriously, how are you doing
Fine.
WES GRANT
prove it
A disbelieving laugh comes out of my mouth. Does he think we’re 12 instead of in our thirties? Further, does he really think he can tell me what to do?
“Lizzy!” Jane calls from where she’s set up. “Can you bring me the bag?”
I dutifully trudge through the sand, holding the bag open as Jane rifles through it. “Time to reapply,” she says, holding up a massive bottle of sunscreen. “Todd and Ellie never burn, but the rest of us do.”
After she’s slathered her kids and applied a very fancy French brand on her own face, my phone buzzes again. I ignore it, but the buzzing continues. So it’s a call, not a message. And calls mean crises.
I hurry to fish my phone out of my pocket, but it isn’t David or Baz or Arjun—it’s Wes Grant. Again. And he’s video calling me.
“Lizzy!” Jane shrieks. “Oh my God, answer it!”
It’s only because I love my sister very, very much that I do.
“I can’t believe you actually answered,” Wes says, a look of astonishment on his unfairly handsome face as it fills the screen.
He’s wearing a light blue T-shirt that makes his olive skin nearly glow, and he has an actual beard rather than artfully curated stubble. He must not have shaved since D.C.
I turn the phone around so he can see Jane. “My sister wants to talk to you.”
“Oh wow!” Wes says, unleashing his megawatt smile. “I didn’t expect a two-for-one Jacobs sister special.”
Jane laughs breezily, her whole face lighting up. “I guess it’s your lucky day!”
“I’ll say! How are you enjoying Cape Cod?”
Jane and Wes proceed to have an entire conversation about the beaches near Hyannis and the best place for lobster rolls while my nieces and nephew build a lopsided sandcastle.
I’m about to stop Eddie from eating sand when Todd’s voice cuts through the conversation.
“Jane, why are the kids covered in sand?”
Because Todd would show up on a beach in loafers and a sweater tied around his shoulders, asking why his children aren’t pristine.
“Honey!” Jane calls, motioning her husband over. “You won’t believe who I’m talking to!”
“Let me guess,” Todd says, even though he can already see the screen. “Wes Grant.”
“Hello again,” Wes says. “Tom, right?”
Irritation crosses Todd’s face. Wes may have a knack for pushing my buttons, but damn, does he know how to come through.
With Jane and Todd preoccupied, I thwart Eddie’s plan of pulling the bows off of Ellie’s braided pigtails, ask Emma to help me brush the sand off of her siblings, and grab the jumbo-sized pack of wet wipes from Jane’s bag to clean their hands.
It’s probably a wasted effort since beach, but hopefully it’ll help Jane when it’s time to take photos again.
“Lizzy!” Jane calls, and I turn to look at my sister. “We’re inviting Wes to come stay!”
“What?!” I yell, alarmed. Wes says, “Told you,” and Todd chuckles. Jane shrugs innocently. “Boston’s not far, and he said he’s bored. We have an extra room now that Mom and Dad have left, so I figure why not.”
“He’s not bored,” I say. “He has tons to do. Training and meetings and—”
“I can do that from anywhere,” Wes says calmly. “But don’t worry, I can get my own place—”
“Nonsense!” Todd says. “Save your money, stay with us.”
“It’s hard to argue with that, Jacobs,” Wes says, his eyes on me. “But it’s up to you.”
There’s no stopping my surprised intake of breath.
“No it’s not,” Todd says, his cocky voice interrupting my thoughts. “It’s up to me. And I say you’re invited.”
But Wes doesn’t acknowledge Todd. He keeps his gaze squarely on mine, even when Todd says, “So you’re coming, right?”
I have no idea if Wes understands how monumental this is. If he’s aware how uncommon it is for a man to casually give a woman control of a decision offered directly to him. I have no doubt that if I said no, Wes would say no, too.
And that’s why I decide to allow this.
It isn’t until I nod that Wes says, “Now that I have Elizabeth’s blessing, I’ll see you guys in a couple hours.”
Jane squeals and Todd tells him not to speed. He’s still laughing at his own bad joke when my sister hands my phone back to me so she can resume the perfect, WASPy family photoshoot.
“And to think I only called to make sure you were okay,” Wes says.
I bristle at the reminder. “I told you I was.”
“I know,” Wes says. “But in my experience when women say they’re fine, they’re actually not.”
I start to argue—but the truth is that I’m not fine at all. I’ve maybe never been fine in my entire life.
But now is not the time for existential quandaries.
“I guess you’ll see for yourself soon.”
The left side of Wes’s mouth kicks up. “Yeah, I guess I will.”