Chapter 21
Vanessa
The yin and yang of my relationship with Christian was exhausting. He’d been my rock the day before, not only protecting me from any physical abuse doled out by my brother, but also by bringing Donovan into his home.
He’d made pizza from scratch including the dough, enjoying the freshly made nonalcoholic lemonade instead of alcohol so Donovan wouldn’t be tempted.
He’d also made good on his promise, staying awake almost all night long.
I’d found him in the wee hours of the morning in a chair that he’d pulled closer to the door of the living room, which offered him a clear shot of anyone coming down the stairs.
Instead of waking him, I’d taken the soft throw on the back of the couch, tucking him in. After that, I’d stood against the wall in the dark, trembling and anxious while doing nothing more than ensuring his chest was rising and falling.
Much like I’d done with Donovan a few months before when I’d been worried he’d overdosed.
Then to my surprise, Christian had disappeared early in the morning without a note, an email, nothing.
I’d been furious, immediately thinking the worst as was so easy to do with the man. However, in learning he’d taken it upon himself to add his name to the list claiming responsibility for Donovan, I’d been floored.
Straight up off my ass floored.
He’d sat with me in the courtroom, giving me space yet ensuring I knew he was there if I needed to break down.
I’d come close, stopping only because I had to remain strong for Donovan.
Thankfully, the three-hour ride to Naples had been uneventful.
The music had soothed nerves. The conversation had been light.
Donovan had seemed somewhat happier, only his constant scratching of his arm giving any indication he was already going through withdrawal.
I’d allowed myself to feel relieved. Hopeful.
But now… Now everything felt claustrophobic.
“I’ll be fine, sis,” Donovan said quietly.
Since being escorted to his room, he’d remained looking out the window.
At least he had a lovely view of a garden-like courtyard.
What he didn’t know but I’d seen was that the lush property was surrounded by an eight-foot wall almost as if he was inside a prison.
I’d been forced to remind myself without Christian’s intervention and the deal made, that’s exactly where he would be.
The tour of the grounds had provided some sense of relief.
Neither the interior nor the grounds appeared as if Donovan was being incarcerated.
In fact, the plush surroundings reminded me of a five-star hotel complete with fabulous amenities including three restaurants, a coffee shop, a bookstore, a huge general store that carried almost everything, several gyms, a racquetball court, and four pools.
There was more, but my brain hadn’t been able to process everything.
“I know you will,” I said with as much confidence as possible. My eyes drifted to his arm. He’d drawn blood on the drive, but at least I’d seen the haze fade, resignation moving into his system.
“Does Dad know?”
“Not about Rosewood.”
“Because he doesn’t give a shit.”
“He’s out of town.”
Donovan snorted. “Of course he is. Time to face it, sis. Our parents don’t give a shit. I’m nothing but an embarrassment.”
A part of me wanted to tell him to prove our father wrong, but the other part knew the words were cruel. “Don’t worry about Daddy dearest. Just take care of you.”
He turned around to face me and fighting the tears was becoming a sport. Even standing in a bright cobalt polo and light cargo pants, the attire thanks to Christian’s expansive wardrobe, he appeared so frail. My big strapping brother. My first protector. Now I needed to protect him.
“Who’s going to take care of you?” he asked.
“I can take care of myself.”
For the first time in so long I couldn’t remember, he smiled. “You like him.”
“Who?”
“Your fiancé.”
The laugh was laced with nervousness. “It’s complicated.”
“You did this for me. Didn’t you? You’re marrying him for the money.”
My God. I didn’t realize the fake relationship was that transparent. “I care about Christian.”
Donovan nodded. “I can tell you both care about each other. That’s good, but you deserve to be happy.”
I wanted more than anything to be able to tell my brother I was happy, but in truth, I was still mostly numb inside. Too much had changed. “Like I said, it’s complicated.”
The rap on the door meant my time was up. He wouldn’t be allowed visitors for three months and that was if he obeyed all the rules.
Like Christian wanted me to do.
There was no comparison, yet I couldn’t get the thought from my mind.
“I need to go, but I’ll check on you. You can call me, send me emails and texts.”
He walked closer. “I won’t let you down. I promise.”
When I hugged him, for the first time I felt him trembling not from withdrawals or from being high, but from fear. “I love you, Donovan. Please do this for you.”
“You want to know the truth? I am. Be happy yourself, Vannie. You deserve everything special in your life. Including a guy who treats you right. I think Christian is good for you. Now that I’m committed to cleaning up, maybe you can finally allow yourself to fall in love.”
He hadn’t called me Vannie in years. Maybe a little sign of hope.
I wasn’t going to break his bubble that he’d likely never see Christian again.
When I walked out, Christian said nothing.
As we headed to the parking lot, he placed his hand on the small of my back and the simple gesture brought more comfort than I was willing to admit.
By the time we reached the car, this time taking the very comfortable Mercedes I’d made fun of before, all the energy had drained from my body.
Facing another three-hour drive felt grueling. Maybe a part of me wanted to remain close to Donovan if only for a day. Not that it would matter.
“Thank you for driving today,” I said when we were settled in the car.
“You’re welcome. The least I could do.”
There was still such awkwardness between us. My thoughts were so muddled that I wasn’t making any sense. “Do you think he’ll be alright?”
“We’re only three hours away.”
We. Well, at least the man was taking the commitment to our marriage seriously. Maybe it was something that would keep me from lashing out at him.
“If you want, I can try and drive to your house. Of course, I might end up in the middle of the Everglades and you know what could happen. Just so you know. I’m terrified of snakes, especially ones large enough to eat me in a single gulp.”
He smirked as he rolled out of the parking lot. “A little hint. So am I. We’re not going home. At least not yet.”
“Then where are we going?”
“Somewhere relaxing.”
Barely five minutes later, I realized he was heading to the beach.
I could almost feel the ocean breeze through the air conditioning vent.
When I couldn’t take it any longer, I lowered the windows.
The midafternoon sun was golden, wispy clouds were in the deep blue sky, and the temperature perfect for a beach outing.
Even if my emotions were still all over the place.
Christian knew exactly where he was going. When he parked, I marveled at the surroundings. We were right on the water, various midrise condominiums oceanfront with quaint shops and bistros on the other side. The buildings were colorful, artistic, and the atmosphere was definitely beachy.
Even before I climbed out, I heard music coming from all sides. Once outside, I took a deep breath. I’d always loved the ocean, but since moving to Miami had rarely found the time to venture to the water’s edge.
“You’ve been here before?”
“Of course,” he said as if a matter of course. “I have business throughout Florida. This is tucked away and more popular with the locals. I think you’ll enjoy having a cold drink by the water.”
“You’re right.” I certainly couldn’t argue with him.
Not about this. Although we certainly had argued about almost everything else.
The dock was filled with people, some heading to boats scattered along the attached moors.
I noticed the structure before the name, the gazebo huge and positioned over the water.
“The Cabana Bayfront. How often have you been here?”
“More often than you might think.” He laughed and guided me to a perfect table where I could people watch and enjoy the pristine view. As soon as we settled in, a waitress headed in our direction.
“With all your girlfriends?” I don’t know why I was bothering getting so personal.
He shook his head. “Usually a client. I haven’t had a girlfriend in years. How about a mimosa?” he asked as if preferring to avoid the subject.
“A champagne man.” When he gave me a look, I threw up my hand. “I know what you’re going to say, but don’t. I’d love a mimosa. Heavy on the champagne.”
“Make it a pitcher with your best champagne,” he told the beautiful girl.
“Yes, sir.”
When she left, I leaned over the table with my arms folded. “Don’t you need to drive home?”
“What if we aren’t going home, at least tonight?”
“Then I’d need to remind you that I was lucky I found matching clothes for court today. It was apparent I was very angry when I packed to head to your house.”
“Yes, my wildcat does have a vicious streak. Who needs clothes?” The moment he asked the question, my expression obviously reflected the snap back to reality.
We weren’t a couple.
“I meant what I said yesterday. I’m not into forcing women to do something against their will, unless we’re talking about business. I thought you might like to get away from life and reality if only for a day.”
“Are you actually being thoughtful?”
“Does that trouble you?”
“Maybe a little. You are the kind of man who uses a hidden agenda to your advantage whenever possible.” At least my answer was truthful.
He snorted, sitting back as the girl brought our drinks. “At least you don’t mince words. I like that about you, along with several other things.”