Chapter 12
Today was the day: the one I’d been dreading.
We were decorating for Halloween. A beach-themed Halloween because that’s what I’d blurted out to Gladys.
Naturally, Topher was nowhere to be found. When I woke up, he was already gone. For a brief, startling moment, I realized I missed him.
Not the arguing, not the workaholic intensity, but waking up and seeing him there. His hair slightly mussed, his breathing steady and soft. When he opened his eyes and caught me watching, he’d give me a quiet, sleepy smile.
Now, with him gone, the space felt too still. Too wide.
I didn’t have to wait long for an explanation. He came back just as I was finishing a late breakfast, carrying his laptop under one arm. When I asked where he’d been, he shrugged.
“Internet here’s too spotty. Had to go to my place in the Garden District. People are relying on me. I can’t just take off for a week.” There was something almost sincere in the way he said it. I still thought he was overdoing it, but I could see the weight of his responsibilities in his face.
“Don’t you trust the people working for you?” I asked.
Topher sighed, setting his laptop down and rubbing his temples like he always did when something frustrated him. “Some of the people I work with... they’re cutthroat. You give them an inch, and they’ll take your company. It’s not exactly a relaxing environment.”
Whoa. That was a side of him I hadn’t seen before. Just how bad were things behind the scenes?
“But”—Topher leaned casually against the doorframe—“I’m done working for the day. And now I’m ready to decorate this yard for Halloween like it’s never been decorated before.” There was a mischievous glint in his eye.
He disappeared into the bedroom, and when he came back, I nearly dropped the cup of coffee in my hands.
Topher Brodie—Mr. Buttoned-Up Billionaire—was wearing a Hawaiian shirt.
Well, barely wearing one.
The top half hung open, revealing part of his chest. I blinked. Was it hot in here? Had the air conditioning stopped working? Oh boy.
“What on earth are you wearing?” I asked, barely hiding my inner spiral.
He looked down, as if noticing the palm trees and flamingos splashed across the fabric. Then he looked back at me with a slow, smug grin. “It’s a beach-themed Halloween. Gotta commit, right?”
I raised an eyebrow, trying not to stare. I failed. “Who are you, and what have you done with Topher?”
He smirked. “Just go with it. It’s going to be a long day.”
He wasn’t wrong.
As soon as we stepped outside, Topher was in full-on “boss mode.” He waved his phone around like he was leading a battalion.
“I’ve already called in my team.” He scrolled through an absurdly long list of Halloween items. “We’re getting everything delivered: haunted tiki bars, zombie surfers, skeleton lifeguards. ”
His “team,” as I learned, was a mix of people from his mansion across town in the Garden District—gardeners, contractors, and his tech guy. Of course, these people weren’t just helping out because it was fun. They were the best money could buy, and it showed.
I raised an eyebrow. “How much are you spending on this?”
Topher shrugged, entirely unbothered. “Whatever it takes. No limits.”
Of course. Why would a billionaire have a budget for a Halloween beach display?
Within a couple of hours, we had transformed the yard into what can only be described as a haunted beach nightmare. A skeleton lifeguard stood tall on its perch, sunglasses on, a whistle dangling around its neck, guarding the yard with a sign that read, “No Swimming: Sharks.”
Meanwhile, Topher and I were debating the number of zombie surfers.
“We need at least four more,” he insisted.
“Four more? We’ve already got four!”
“You can never have too many undead surfers,” he said with a grin, like it was some universal truth.
He was having fun. Real fun. Not the half-smile he gave during a work victory or the smirk when he made a sarcastic comment.
No, this was genuine. And it was nice to see him like this.
Josephine, who had come out to watch, seemed to love it, her face lighting up every time Topher added something over the top to the display.
I busied myself setting up several gravestones in the sand. Beach chairs and umbrellas were surrounded by gravestones with phrases like “Here Lies my Beach Body, Never Found” and “Sunburned to Death.” Topher had suggested adding “Gone Fishing… Forever.”
The real showstopper, though, was the Haunted Tiki Bar. An animatronic skeleton bartender was set up to serve spooky cocktails.
And then there was the sandcastle graveyard. Topher’s gardeners, who I was now convinced could build anything, had created a towering sandcastle under a tarp in the yard, surrounded by tiny gravestones. A skeleton hand poked out from the top, looking like it was trying to escape.
“You sure this isn’t too much?” I asked, stepping back to take it all in.
“We’re not even done,” Topher said, holding up a string of screaming seashells his tech guy had rigged. The seashells were set to let out eerie wails whenever someone walked by. “What do you think? Too creepy?”
“Too creepy? No.” I shook my head. “Too ridiculous? Absolutely.”
Josephine was beaming from the porch, clearly in love with the whole spectacle.
Her pride in Topher was evident, and I couldn’t help but feel warm inside.
He could’ve just paid people to build the display, but instead, he was taking a major role, running around like a man on a mission, and it was hard not to admire that.
Just when I thought things couldn’t get more absurd, Gladys strolled up.
“Well, well, well,” she chirped, her eyes scanning the yard with a mix of awe and judgment. “Looks like somebody’s trying to win the award for the most money spent on a yard.”
Before I could jump in, Josephine appeared beside me, her grin wide. “Gladys, isn’t it fabulous? The whole neighborhood will be talking about it by the time Halloween rolls around!”
Gladys blinked. “Well, it’s certainly... different.”
“Different is good,” Topher said. “That’s what we were going for.”
Josephine beamed and turned to Gladys with a smile. “Why don’t you come inside? We can chat over some tea.”
As they disappeared into the house, probably planning to dissect every last detail of our Halloween extravaganza, I turned back to Topher, feeling a mix of exasperation and amusement.
“Okay, you can admit it now,” I said, crossing my arms. “We’ve officially gone overboard.”
He grinned, adjusting his Hawaiian shirt with a sense of pride. “Nah, if anything, we’re just getting started.”
I tried not to laugh. “You’re insane.”
“Maybe,” he replied, glancing over at the sandcastle graveyard with a satisfied look. “But admit that you love it.”
And as much as I hated to admit it, he was right. Watching him take charge, fully committed to making this ridiculous project a reality, made me see him in a new light. I had to hand it to him. Topher knew how to go all out, and it was kind of impressive.
But my admiration was short-lived. I reached across the tiki bar to fix a crooked skull garnish, and my elbow sent a very real, very full fishbowl cocktail flying. Straight into my shirt. Fantastic.
Cursing under my breath, I darted inside to change.
Jeans and a t-shirt felt too stifling in this heat.
The day had gotten unbearably hot, even for early October, and with the sun beating down, the idea of putting on anything heavy seemed like a punishment.
So, I reached for the one thing that sounded comfortable: a simple sundress I rarely wore.
When I came back out, Topher’s eyes widened. He paused, his gaze lingering just long enough to make me feel unexpectedly flattered.
“Nice outfit,” he said, a hint of surprise in his voice.
A slight blush crept up my cheeks, but I brushed it off, adjusting the dress. “Thanks. It was either this or passing out from heatstroke in jeans.”
He nodded, still watching me with a half-smile that made my stomach do a weird little flip.
Just then, I felt something soft and stringy brushing against my arm.
I froze. Slowly, I glanced down, and there it was. A giant, sticky spider web was draped all over my arm and stuck to the back of my dress.
“Oh my GOSH, it’s ON ME!” I screamed, leaping into the air like I’d been hit with a taser. I flailed wildly, arms pinwheeling, trying to shake off the web that seemed to be growing by the second. “GET IT OFF!”
Topher stared at me for a split second before bursting into laughter. “It’s just—”
“IT’S A SPIDER!” I shrieked, now hopping around like I was dodging landmines. “I CAN FEEL IT CRAWLING!” I was spinning in circles, slapping my own back like a lunatic.
Topher was doubled over at this point, tears in his eyes. “It’s a fake spider web, not an actual spider! You’re fighting Halloween decorations!”
I stopped mid-spin, still slapping at my shoulder. “Are you SURE? Because I’m about two seconds away from setting myself on fire to make sure it’s gone.”
He was laughing so hard he could barely breathe. “Trust me,” he wheezed, “if it were real, it wouldn’t survive how fast you’re moving.”
I glared at him, trying to muster some dignity, but the web still clung to me like it had a vendetta. “I swear, this thing is multiplying!” I yanked at it, only managing to stick it to my other arm, which made Topher laugh even harder.
Still chuckling, he started untangling me. “Hold still before you knock over the tiki bar.”
I stopped long enough to glare at him. “This isn’t funny!”
He stepped closer, still grinning like he couldn’t help it. “Oh, it’s funny.”
“Okay, maybe it’s a little funny,” I admitted. Every nerve seemed to hum as his fingertips brushed against my back. His touch was light, barely there, but enough to make my breath hitch. The warmth of his body so close sent a strange tingle through me. I couldn’t help but think of the hug earlier.
I swallowed, trying to shake off the feeling. “But I swear, if there’s an actual spider—”