31
31
The sun glitters off the ocean on the horizon, burning my eyes until I turn away from it and take another sip of Real—my favorite, because naturally Win would stock my favorite on his yacht. There’s a perfect view of the downtown Miami skyline behind us and the palm tree–lined backyards of celebrity mansions on the island ahead. I push a flyaway strand of hair out of my face and look across the deck to where Maya’s flirting with some guy in a sleek white business suit, looking as tipsy as I’m starting to feel.
Win’s party’s alive with people, although the music’s chill compared to some of the party boats I’ve been on in the past, and the conversation is business focused, as expected. His yacht is beautiful, all polished chestnut wood and soft white leather, complete with a full bar, two bedrooms, an indoor seating area, and a deck big enough to perform a live show on. I just wish I was in a better state of mind to truly enjoy being here.
“Princess?”
The voice filters in above all the other conversations and laughter, and I pull my eyes away from Maya to find a tall man with graying hair and wearing a laid-back linen outfit approaching me with a charming smile.
“Hi, yes, that’s me.”
“I thought so. I saw you over here looking lonely, so I thought I’d come introduce myself and keep you company. I hope you don’t mind.”
I give a polite laugh. “Oh, not lonely, just taking it all in.” Though I realize, actually, when my girls aren’t by my side, I am fucking lonely. In a room—or a yacht—full of people, it’s just me and my thoughts. God knows I don’t need to spend any more time lingering on those.
“She sure is one hell of a boat, isn’t she? Used to have one of these babies myself, but nowadays I spend more time on the golf course than out at sea.” He smiles and holds out his hand, and I’m pleasantly surprised; it’s not unusual for businessmen like him to assume I’m too delicate and dainty to shake hands. “Martyn Michaels,” he introduces himself. “I own a pharmaceutical company based in San Francisco. Win tells me you have a connection in town.”
My eyes light up. “Oh, that’s awesome. And I do—my best friend’s a biologist living there right now. She’s the hardest worker I know.”
“Well, we have plenty of dedicated biologists working for us. Maybe I might know her.”
“Oh, Jessie’s not working for anyone yet. She’s still in school.”
Martyn smiles, his warmth infectious. It clears my mind of all the negative thoughts I was having and sets me at ease, a good distraction. “Now, how does an LA star like you know a biology student in San Francisco?”
“Jessie and I go way back. We’re both from Guam, best friends since birth, and got lucky enough to move over to the States around the same time as one another.”
“It takes a genuine friendship to last so long. I’m sure Jessie feels very lucky to still have you as a friend after all this time, and considering how far you’ve come . . .”
“I’m the lucky one. She helps me more than I could ever help her.” An idea springs to mind as the words leave my mouth, and I don’t waste a second thinking twice about it. “If you’re open to it, I’d love to get your contact info and connect you two. It sounds like you run exactly the kind of company she’d love to work for. Maybe there’s an internship opportunity?”
Martyn watches me closely for a second or two as if trying to figure out how the arrangement would work, and then he shrugs and chuckles. “Okay, why not? You obviously think very highly of her, and I admire a person who lifts others up.”
“Amazing!” I reach for my phone, and while we’re swapping details, I feel a presence approaching from behind. I know without looking who it is, and my guess is confirmed when Martyn looks up and greets him.
“Win, there you are. I was just speaking to the lovely Princess while I waited for you to be free.”
“What an excellent way to spend your time,” Win says so easily I almost blush. “Princess, Martyn and I have been talking about a potential investment opportunity down in the Florida Keys. A hotel recently came up for sale that he thinks would turn a great profit with a little work—a few design touches and some stronger marketing. I’ve been looking for a new project to sink my teeth into. What do you think?”
They turn to me for my answer, and I’m honestly flattered by how genuinely interested they seem—as if my opinion matters in this. It’s really none of my business what side projects Win takes on, but the way he’s looking at me, that smooth, trademark smile on his lips and his eyes sparkling in the sun, makes me feel important.
“It’s a great idea,” I say brightly. “Do you have thoughts in mind for the place already?”
“Maybe hiring a team of designers would be the best route to take, but I love the idea of turning it into an adults-only luxury hotel. It’s right on the beach, with a sushi restaurant attached and incredible ocean views. Would you visit a place like that, Princess?” Win asks.
“Come on, Win, do you really need to ask?” I say with a playful nudge of his arm. “I’m an island girl—anywhere involving the ocean and seafood sounds exactly like where I want to be.”
Win grins and slides his arm around my waist, holding me loosely, easily, as he addresses Martyn. “Princess is from Guam, a beautiful island in the—”
“Yes,” Martyn says proudly, “we were just talking about this, and about Princess’s friend Jessie, who’s also from Guam.”
“Ah! Jessie,” Win says knowingly. “Now I think I know what you two were discussing. Jessie is getting an advanced degree in biology, right?” He turns to me, and I nod, unable to form words at the feel of his hand still lingering on my back, his body so close to mine. And the fact he remembers so many little details about my life, my friends . . . everything I tell him and more. The movement pulls me closer into him, so it feels like I’m being protected by him somewhat. And my heart’s sprinting inside my rib cage at our proximity.
“She does,” I confirm. “And I think she and Martyn would have a lot to discuss.”
Win looks at Martyn. “You took her info?”
Martyn nods. “I look forward to speaking with her.”
“Wonderful.” Win looks back at me, impressed. It’s an emotion I can’t place that crosses his features next, but it feels a lot like surprise mixed with awe and something even hotter. His hand slips away so he can take a drink, and when Martyn asks him a question, I hear it like a faraway thought, not fully engaged. My eyes don’t leave Win, though, until my phone buzzes in my Loro Piana pouch.
Not wanting to seem rude, I step away from them for a second to check the notification onscreen. It’s a text from Kimi, and it makes my heart leap.
Kimi: Turns out you did the right thing releasing that song last week. The streaming numbers are going crazy, the label wants to make it a single, put money behind it and take it to radio. It’s going to have a big push—congratulations!!
I can’t stop the little yelp of happiness that leaps from my mouth. One of my deepest, realest song to date is being picked up as a single and going to radio?! Releasing this on my own was a risk but I trusted myself and it worked! I’m stunned. The smile spreads across my face as fast as lightning, and then I start to feel it, the buzz of alcohol like an undercurrent in my veins, swaying the edges of my vision. In the back of my head is the conversation with Kimi after I pulled my stunt, and how unhappy she was at the time, but it seems like she’s fine now.
“Everything all good, Princess?” Win asks, placing a hand on my shoulder.
I spin around, unable to stop myself from blurting, “Yeah! My label is picking up the acoustic song I released on a whim and making it a single! They’re putting money behind it and apparently a big push!”
“That’s amazing!” He celebrates with me, clinking our glasses together.
“Hold up, did I hear that correctly?” Maya interrupts, cutting across the deck to swoop in and link her arm through mine. “The acoustic song is going to be a single, Princess?”
“Yes!” I show her Kimi’s text excitedly, and she does a little happy dance with me, both of us vibrating with energy.
“Win, have you heard it?” Maya clutches Win’s arm, always way overconfident. “Princess released it completely untouched by anyone else. It’s so fucking good”—she glances at Martyn—“excuse my French. Sorry.”
He smiles and steps away. “No need to apologize. I’m heading to the bar, Win. I’ll catch up with you later.”
“Thanks, Martyn.” Win nods. Then he turns to me. “This sounds amazing, Princess, we need to celebrate! I can’t wait to hear it, I haven’t had the chance to listen to it yet.”
Maya squeezes me a bit tighter. “I’ve always admired your strategy and work ethic, Princess. If Kimi and Wayne quit work tomorrow I know you could run your whole business perfectly fine.”
Win smiles at Maya’s comment, though his eyes are glued to mine. “I believe that. Princess has a killer work ethic and her presence is undeniable. The streams are incredible.”
“Thank you, Win,” I say sheepishly. “I just hit Upload and snapped a photo of it for my Instagram story, and that was really it. I’m shocked at the response.”
“And yet it’s touching the emotions of thousands,” Maya says theatrically, clutching a hand over her chest. “You know why that is, Princess? It’s ’cause you kept it real, no filters necessary. People eat that up. It connects with the heart.”
“Yeah, I think you’re right. There’s been so much going on I just needed to release it all creatively. I’ve been way too stressed lately.”
“I feel that in my bones,” Maya says, nudging me, less than subtle. She’s been raging about the John/Riley drama since I filled her in on the details of their very public fight on our way to the yacht party. Thankfully, she bites her tongue from saying any more, though she gives me an incredibly pointed look. I wonder if Win ever gets affected by social media stuff; probably not. He’s always been so private online, basically nonexistent with one account, Instagram, a very rare work-related post here and there, not following too many people. Untouchable. Just like in real life.
“Okay, I’m gonna leave you guys to it.” Maya throws a glance at the guy she was just talking to, and I follow her gaze to see him staring at her from across the deck, eyes rolling over her body. “You’ve got some great contacts, Win,” she says audaciously, moving away from us. “Catch you later.”
I laugh in disbelief as I watch her strut off, and then turn my attention back to Win. He’s still watching me closely. “It’s a great party,” I say, just to say something. “If I owned a yacht like this, I’d be out here every day.”
“Well,” Win says, his eyes still glued to me, “some things just keep me coming back to LA, time and time again.”
The heat of his stare makes me aware of the gnawing sensation gripping my core, the rocking motion of the yacht on the water, and the buzz in my veins from the three—or was it four?—drinks I’ve already had. In a second, Win seems to snap out of whatever thought he was having, and clarity sets in as he moves me to stand with him up close to the railing, looking out over the ocean and the Miami skyline. With his hand dancing close to my lower back but never quite touching, just lingering there, as if he’s ready to catch me if he needs to, we talk for a few minutes longer about nothing in particular, pointing out birds in the water and which celebrity owns which waterside mansion. It feels a lot like we’re skirting around the real topic, something unspoken, almost forbidden. Then he leaves me with another drink, and my mind drifts to other pointless thoughts—such as what exactly keeps Win coming back to LA other than business, who else he’s invited on glamorous yacht parties here in Miami, and why I can’t ever be around him without feeling like I just got charged by some irresistible type of electric force.
You should go to him.
The thought pops into my mind uninvited. Whether it’s the alcohol talking or just all this pent-up, confused energy, I don’t know, but my eyes instinctively dart to the back of the yacht where Win disappeared a moment ago, to the closed cabin door nobody else seems to be lingering by.
Just talk to him and tell him how you feel. He’s all alone right now; What’s the worst that could happen?
Slowly, my body responds, and I move across the deck, past the groups of people talking business and Maya flirting with her white-suited catch of the day, toward Win’s cabin. My pulse matches the beat of my footsteps: slow and precarious at first, but gradually increasing in speed until it’s fast and dangerous, spurring me on.
“Oops, shit!”
I’m stopped immediately by a body bursting out of the bathroom. The door swings shut behind her, and the girl stumbles into me, hair spilling over her face. She drags it back and looks up at me.
“Val?”
“Oh my god, I was just coming to look for you!” She seems totally unaware of my worried expression. “So, I talked to Tripp and I’m so unbelievably relieved. He feels the same way and we’re . . . drumroll please . . . official.”
“Aww, Val, that’s the best news!” I pull her into a tight hug and my worry falls away.
“I have the worst damn sea legs right now,” she says into my ear as we pull away from each other. “I have so much to catch you up on but long story short I was talking through a bunch of my family stuff with Tripp, and he’s been the best to help me navigate it all. As awkward as it is to admit, I know I’ve been handling the stress in all the wrong ways. I’m going to just take a breather to rest and focus on my self-care.” She’s glowing as she talks; I haven’t seen Val like this in a long time.
“That’s amazing, babe! Tripp is seriously one of a kind. Such a keeper.” I’m bursting with happiness for Val; she’s really getting her life together. I need to get on the same wave.
“I’m going to head to the front and take some pictures, find me in a bit.” She blows me a kiss and walks away.
I’m watching Val walk away when my phone buzzes in my hand, notifications piling in. Pictures of John and Riley making out on Miami Beach. I can’t scroll fast enough trying to read the article and get through all the photos of them. My world starts moving in slow motion. This cannot be happening to me right now.
They’re basically fucking each other in these pictures.
On the beach.
This morning.
My head spins with so much new information and the high of everything good that happened today comes crashing down in an instant—without warning my racing pulse doesn’t feel like such a buzz.
I look over at the door to Win’s cabin. Suddenly, it feels so out of reach. So far away. So restricted. Off-limits. Not where I belong.
Because I’m na?ve, stupid Princess who just got used again. Riley and John were never arguing, even if that’s what it looked like. She used me as a way to orchestrate this whole drama, pretending like we were fresh new besties and John didn’t matter to her, and I really believed for a second she wanted to be on my side again, supporting me while I supported her—even if it was mostly one big show to make herself look good. Even a half hour ago I never suspected she might actually be in on this with John; that their blow-up argument yesterday was rehearsed and calculated; that they’re still fucking each other behind the scenes.
And getting caught together on Miami Beach? It’s like the bitch wants me to know.
You’re so out of touch with other people’s feelings you’re probably misreading this situation with Win too, the voice inside my head mocks. He doesn’t really care about you, just like Riley didn’t, and John before her, and all those other guys you dated just to feel something real.
Nothing’s real.
Everyone’s out for themselves in this life.
You’ll always be alone.
It’s the worst timing. It could only happen to me. Just as my stomach roils and my throat retches, the door to Win’s cabin opens wide and he steps out into the seating area, right in time to see me throw up the contents of my stomach all over his immaculately polished wood floor.
“Fuck.” I’m not even aware I’m crying until tears are blurring my vision, making it difficult to see the mess I made or Win’s expression as I stand up straight. I swipe my eyes with the back of my hand and finally see his confusion as he looks from me to the pile of vomit and back again, his frown line making it clear he’s as confused as I am about why I’m back here.
“Oh man, Princess, are you okay?” He strides over and smooths an arm around my shoulders, moving me away from the mess and seating me gently on one of the leather benches. “Are you feeling a little seasick?”
No, it’s just the thought of how I’m fucking incapable of finding love without being used or humiliated.“I guess,” I croak, feeling my stomach roll again. “Sorry, Win.”
“It’s not your fault.” He squeezes my shoulder. “I’ll be right back. I’ll find someone to clean this up, and have the captain take us back to land.”
“Don’t end your party for me—” I try to say, but he’s already out of earshot, and I don’t have the energy to protest further. Right now, I do want to be on land, preferably hidden under the covers of my bed, and definitely not here in Miami where everything just seems to be getting worse and worse.
It’s not your fault. His words resound in my head.
Yes, it is, I hear my mind answering back.
This is all my fault.
Every last thing.