14. Chapter 14
Before I knew it, I was on a plane with Beckett Atteridge, bumping elbows and pulling back with little apologies. Between powering through the last-minute items for the convergence, Beck and I concocted the “family emergency” I’d used to ask for time off. We settled on me having to fly to Kentucky for my dad’s knee surgery. The last time I checked, my father lived in Kentucky, but I didn’t know how his knees were holding up.
As Beck predicted, Wesley approved my PTO without a single question. Then Beck put in for his vacation, adding a few more days than mine to offset suspicions, and—big surprise—Wesley approved it as well. Oh, to be the golden child.
Between our scheming, working furiously to tie up all loose ends of our project, and finishing signage for Victoria’s wedding, I barely slept the past two weeks, and the time went fast. Almost too fast.
I went to switch my phone to airplane mode and found a text from Hailey.
Hailey:Tell me you got waxed!
I glanced over to make sure Beck couldn’t see my screen, but he was too focused on adjusting his headrest.
Me: You are way too invested in my pretend love life.
She had, of course, been elated when I’d told her about fake dating Beck. When she learned about the trip to Costa Rica, she practically transcended to a higher plane. She thought Beck and I would have our kids’ names picked out by the second day. I’d let her know, many times, that she was delusional.
Hailey: Just want to make sure you have your business taken care of before the analyst slips in.
The potent mental image set my cheeks ablaze.
“Everything okay?” Beck asked.
My phone slipped out of my hand like a wet fish, but I managed to catch it after a few fumbled attempts.
“Fine,” I said. “Everything is fine.”
I mashed the airplane mode and slipped it into my pocket.
“Are you sure?” Beck pressed. “Because your whole face is red.”
“Yeah. It’s just a little hot in here.”
Beck reached up, twisting the vents in my direction. I tried not to notice the way the sleeves of his T-shirt hugged his biceps. And I tried—really hard—not to picture those arms around me. But they were mouth-wateringly masculine for such a mundane task.
“Better?” Beck asked.
“Much,” I croaked.
After the plane ride, we had another three hours in the car driving from the San Jose Airport to Manuel Antonio. The view was breathtaking. Jungle plants looked ready to overtake the road at any moment. At one point in the drive, it started pouring rain. The leaves and branches bounced with the drops, dancing to the rhythm of the rainforest.
At the tail-end of the trip, the sun began its descent. Leaving the resort to shine like a beacon in the night. The property looked massive from what I could make out in the dim light. I counted five stories for the building in the forefront, and it sprawled out in either direction until it seemed to disappear into the jungle.
Attendants opened our doors, politely asking for the name on our reservation. Beck dropped his last name, and they snapped even further to attention, quickly guiding us toward our room and taking our bags.
Beck seemed uncomfortable with the five-star service, and I wondered if that was why he didn’t use his last name in his email address. What must it be like living in the shadow of someone so successful, tethered by a name? I’m sure it had its perks, but it also had to be suffocating.
However, as we crossed the lobby into the lounge area of the resort, the tightness in Beck’s shoulders seemed to loosen. And I felt it too. My anxiety about the trip melted away with each step. Tiki lights lit the path beside manmade waterfalls cascading into a crystal swimming pool. Palm trees towered above, and hibiscus bushes boasted pink, coral, and sunshine yellow flowers. Night sounds of the jungle gave the space a perfect white-noise effect.
If this was just the view to get to the suite, I couldn’t wait to see where we’d be staying for the trip—though I had no intention of spending much time there, not when the beaches and wild jungles waited.
Victoria and her sprawling bridal party intercepted us. They toweled off and finished the last dregs of cocktails as they clambered down the walkway. Beck had informed me the rest of the group planned on coming the day before us. So, it didn’t surprise me to see the group already assembled and a little toasted.
“Hey! You guys made it!” Doug called.
A guy with olive skin and dark hair stepped forward, giving Beck one of those dude handshakes that turned into a half-hug. As they did, the top of Beck’s head only came to the height of this guy’s jaw. I thought Beck was tall. It was a missed opportunity if Beck’s friend didn’t play basketball.
When Beck came back to my side, we fumbled for each other’s hands until we found a comfortable arrangement. It didn’t take long.
“It’s Beck!”
A platinum blonde slurred before missing a step. She would have fallen if Sebastian—the shoe store owner I’d met at Victoria’s shower—hadn’t caught her. I almost hadn’t recognized him in his banana print board shorts.
I noticed Reagan at Victoria’s side right away. If she glowed at the shower, she radiated here. Her bronze skin contrasted dramatically with her white bikini—a simple design. Because, really, she didn’t need anything drastic to show off the slopes of her hips, nor her perfect perky breasts. Her skin had an oily—I’ve been suntanning all day—kind of sheen. I suspected this was what it looked like to have all your chakras aligned.
Though I’d dressed for comfort in my stretchy shorts and a frumpy Buc-ee’s shirt, she still could have drilled holes the way she stared at my hand, enveloped in Beck”s.
Victoria smiled at the attendant who’d been guiding us, sending him away with a few twenties before turning back to us. “We are going in for the night. Need to be up early for our first beach day.”
We stepped into line with the group. Our party of ten separated into three rows, each taking up the entire sidewalk. At the front of the pack, with Victoria, I already felt as though my every move was under a microscope.
One slip and I’d ruin Beck’s illusion of being happy without Reagan, or I could expose myself as the imposter I was. Then this would all be over: Hailey’s business and my chance at continuing professional calligraphy—something that had given me a new purpose, a reason to be excited.
I’d have to tread carefully.
The guy who’d dude-hugged Beck slipped between Victoria and me. “I don’t think we’ve officially met.” He stuck out a hand. “I’m Gabe, Beck’s bestie.”
I giggled at thinking of Beck as someone’s bestie. “Hi, Gabe.” I shook his outstretched hand. “I’m Hailey.”
The use of Hailey’s name as my own still felt odd on my tongue, like I had hair in my mouth, but this was the plan.
“I kept waiting for Beck to introduce us at the shower, but for a rich brat, he doesn’t always have the best manners.”
“My apologies. Gabe, this is my girlfriend, Hailey.” Something in my stomach fizzed at Beck referring to me as his girlfriend. Even though I knew it was fake. “Hailey, this is Gabe. A pain in the ass.”
I smiled. “Sounds like we’ll get along great. Being a pain in Beck’s ass is my favorite hobby.”
Gabe’s eyebrows shot up in delighted surprise. One of them had a scar running through it, which might have given him an intimidating look if not for the bright eyes and dimples. “I like her.”
Beck gave me a sidelong glance, his mouth quirking into a smile. “She’s pretty likable.”
I blushed stupidly. He is acting, Emily. “How do you two know each other?” I asked, ready to get the subject off me.
“We met in high school,” Beck said.
Gabe nodded. “I swept the floor with him at a swim meet, and he begged me for pointers after.”
The idea of Beck being outmatched at swimming pleased me to no end.
“I don’t know about begged,“ Beck said. “I asked you to show me a thing or two.”
“And I did. In return, he bought me a double meat at Whataburger.”
“And he’s been bothering me ever since,” Beck said with a warm smile that completely contradicted his sentence.
In a more secluded area of the resort, a hot tub gurgled. Amongst the bubbles, a woman in a pixie cut traced the lines of her lover’s goatee before leaning in for a kiss.
“Oh God,” Sebastian groaned. “Are Kat and Jake still making out?”
“Hey!” another guy in the group called. “You do have a room, you know?”
The man with the goatee—Jake, I presumed—didn’t stop kissing Kat to lift a middle finger. Then he pulled a giggling Kat into his lap, nipping at her lip.
My mouth went dry at the prospect of playing girlfriend with Beck here. A vision of him pulling me into his lap invaded my thoughts. I pictured my thighs wrapping around his warm torso, my stomach flush with his, and my fingers digging into his back muscles.
But Beck yanked me out of the fantasy with an alarmed, “Emily, watch out!”
Someone screamed, but before I could even get a chance to try and figure out what to watch for, Beck pulled me to his chest. Then I saw it, the slip of a snake’s tail sliding into the grass.
Threat over, I turned my attention to Beck, who still held me fast. I stayed there, dazed by his sudden closeness. His breath hit my cheek, quick from the heightened adrenaline, and his heart hammered against my palm.
He’d literally swung me out of harm’s way like a damn knight. Any decent human probably would have done what he did, but the damsel in distress part of my brain had all the heart eyes. I couldn’t help but feel the warmth of being protected and cared for.
“Are you okay?” Victoria asked.
“I’m fine,” I said.
Then, Beck seemed to remember his hands and how they still gripped my arms. He released me with a little mumble of an apology.
The platinum blonde laughed a little, turning to Reagan. “I thought you said her name is Hailey?” she said in a conspiratorial whisper.
I looked at Beck. Judging by his widened eyes, he realized it right as I did. In the heat of the moment, he’d called me Emily. The iceberg had been spotted. The Titanic was going down on her maiden voyage.
“I am Hailey,” I said way too quickly.
I tried to laugh, but it came out forced. I reeled, grasping for an explanation, but nothing surfaced. I looked to Beck for help, but I could all but see his cogs still whirling, trying to come up with a credible excuse.
I had to say something. All eyes of the group settled on us. “Emily is my middle name. So, he calls me that sometimes.”
I patted his chest like, what a cute rascal I have on my hands. But with the five hard pats, I hoped he received my made-up morse code. Way. To. Go. Dumb. Ass.
“Oh, cute,” someone said.
“Hailey . . . Emily?” The platinum blonde scrunched her nose as she tested the names together.
Shit.They clashed. I immediately thought of the phrase I’d used as fashion advice in high school: black and brown makes a frown. It sounded like a name combination an eight-year-old would string together, or one parent wanted Emily and the other wanted Hailey, so to compromise, they’d picked both. In other words, it sounded like two fucking first names put together because that’s what they fucking were.
“Yeah.” I forced another laugh. “My parents smoked a lot of weed in the nineties.”
Beck’s head snapped my way. I was too chicken to look at the expression. I think I could telepathically hear him saying, God, Lane, shut the fuck up.
One of the guys gave a slow bro nod. “Dope.”
Beck straightened, and I could see his face smooth into his normal calm, collected features.
Here came damage control. “Jesus, Vic. You may want to look into better pest control for the grounds.”
Victoria rolled her eyes. “I don’t know if you noticed, but the resort is backed up to a literal rainforest. There’s going to be wildlife.” She gestured to our surroundings. “Don’t you want the full experience?”
“Does the full experience include an anaconda in my bathroom? Because, if so, I’ll pass.”
“If you weren’t splitting a room with Hailey, I’d have that arranged.” She flashed a dangerous smile that reminded me of her brother.
As the door to our suite clicked closed behind us, I gawked at our living area for the next week. Lanterns with soft lighting hung from a ceiling with exposed beams of rough wood. Sandwiched between two palm plants, a crimson loveseat beckoned. There’s room for two, it seemed to say. The entire space looked like the wilds of the jungle had been tamed only enough for the sake of luxury and romance.
And we hadn’t even seen the bedroom.
I started flipping switches on a nearby wall, hunting for brighter, we’re-just-friends-lighting. Before I could fret too much about spending the evening hours of this trip alone with Beck in a space created exclusively for honeymooners, he popped the romantic vibe with, “Real smooth, Hailey Emily.”
And there he was. The senior level-asshole I knew so well.
“Oh, so it’s my fault you called me the wrong name?”
“I was going to fix my mistake before you went full-on kamikaze.” Beck strode to a coffee table, where the attendants had dropped off our bags. “All I had to say was. ‘Oops. My mistake. I meant to say Hailey.’”
I knew he was right. Knew in my bones the fix could have been so simple, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “Yeah, and I’m sure your sister would think so highly of you, forgetting your date’s name.”
He laughed, digging in his duffle. “Who cares? Anything would have been better than you declaring your name is Hailey Emily. It sounds made up.”
“Because it is!” I said, exasperated. “And was it my finest moment? No. But if they remember anything from tonight, it will be that you saved me from a snake.” I strode to my suitcase so I could do something with my hands instead of using them to throttle him. “Besides, while you calculated a response to fix the error, I could almost see a loading bar behind your eyes. Just a tad suspicious, Beckett.”
“Oh, great. We’re back to Beckett,” he said flatly.
“Yes, we need things to reset, treat each other like we normally would. Keep things uncomplicated.”
“That’s what you want? To go back to competitive coworkers?”
“Yes, because you almost never call me Emily.” And because sweet, laid-back Beck muddled my brain and lowered my guard. “At work, it’s Lane this and Lane that. But today, when Lane would have been an appropriate response, you decided to call me Emily.”
“I’m sorry. I was a little distracted, trying to keep a jungle snake from biting your ankle.”
I swallowed a lump of pride because, as infuriating as Beck was, I had to say it, “Thank you, by the way.”
Beck headed toward the bathroom, an armful of clothes and toiletries. “I did the world a favor. We can’t have Hailey Emily on a headstone, can we?”
The lock of the bathroom snicked shut, and I let out a growly, “Asshole!”
I rolled my suitcase into the bedroom and nearly tripped over my feet. Rose petals littered the bed, and a bucket of champagne waited on the nightstand. Forget this space being for honeymooners. The suite was an artfully crafted love shack.
“Jesus!” I plucked the petals off the bed at a feverish pace, tossing them in the trash before moving the champagne to the kitchenette.
At least Beck had been right about there being a couch. It sat on the opposite wall from the bed, right before the glass doors to the balcony.
I went outside to check out the view. My flip-flops carried me across a wood-planked deck. I wrapped my fingers around the rope of a hammock as I gazed at the rainforest beyond. I could hear it more than see it. For a minute, I closed my eyes and just listened. Crickets, cicadas, and tree frogs were plentiful in Texas, but the sounds seemed amplified here. And Houston certainly didn’t have the howling noises—different from a coyote’s call. I remembered an article about monkeys in Costa Rica.
I smiled. Beck could be an ass all he wanted, but I was finally doing it—enjoying a vacation.