Chapter 21
END OF THE RAINBOW (CLEO)
Ididn’t know how nice it would feel to get out of the house.
It’s not like Holden has kept me under lock and key.
I like his house.
I like being with him in that house.
After the break-in at Gramps’ old mansion, it felt easier to stay where it was safe. But I forgot how much I liked feeling the sun on my face, especially with the spring glow intensifying by the day.
The café where I meet Margot is tucked at the corner of a small square. I grab myself a coffee—the biggest, sugary latte on the menus—and poach one of the small outdoor tables, watching kids playing in the park across the street.
I exhale slowly, just sunbathing and sipping my coffee.
All should be right with the world.
Except it isn’t.
Holden made his feelings about the future crystal clear. We’ve reached the end of the line and it’s just this whole forbidden treasure thing binding us together.
Of course, I knew that going in. We both did.
So why does it hit me so hard?
Margot shows up a few minutes later in a long white skirt and black sunglasses, holding a small bag in her hands.
“Merry Christmas. Fresh from the pop-up churro stand on the corner.” She smiles and offers me a long, doughy delight from the bag.
I take it gratefully and bite in. It’s that kind of day, where a pick-me-up involves serious caffeine and sugar.
And my smile widens as I look at her. She definitely got the best Blackthorn genes for good looks. Or maybe she’s just more radiant than ever as a happily married woman now.
She pushes her shades up into her bright-blonde hair, an effortless beauty I used to wish for.
But our vibes are very different.
She’s sleek and put together, cool and classy. I try to balance the alt art girl look with conformist dresses and blouses when I need to shine with rich art people.
But I love that being in a relationship has not changed her style one bit. For her, shacking up with a perma-grumpy single dad paid off big-time.
“Cleeee, you look amazing,” she says, swinging into the chair across from me. “You’re glowing. What’s your secret?”
Sex. Lots of incredible gravity-defying, soul-searing sex.
Nothing you’re missing, I’m sure.
“Skincare?” I lie.
“Ohh, yeah. If you have any tips, hook me up.” She inhales, looking at my drink. “One sec, I’m just going to grab a drink.”
I munch my churro as she heads inside, joining the line. The screaming, happy children across the street puncture the day with normalcy.
I fold my legs and tilt my head back to the sun, loving the cool breeze against my skin.
Spring in Portland always feels so fresh. The ocean air after a long winter cleanses the whole aura here, scrubbing everything pure.
Margot drops back in her chair a minute later, setting her mango smoothie on the wooden table in front of her.
“So, how’re things?”
“Oh, you know.” I shrug. “Nice and relaxing.”
“Uh-huh.” There’s a cautious look in her eyes. She takes a long sip of smoothie and closes her eyes in pleasure. “This stuff is fire. You’re missing out.” She pushes it toward me, but I shake my head.
“Need the caffeine drip this morning. But I’m sure it’s good.”
“Mm, yeah, I’m cutting back a bit. Trying to be healthy.” She rolls her eyes. “Kane says I get on my sugar highs more often than the kids. I don’t want to set a bad example.”
I smile. “Living the dream, lady.”
“You know it.” Her teeth flash, white and perfect. It’s no surprise that when she stumbled into PopPop’s lake house after he left it to her, a former hockey hottie fell madly in love with her. What guy could resist?
“But we’re talking about you.” She flicks a finger at me. “I heard through the grapevine that you’re finally getting around to whatever Gramps left you.”
“The grapevine? Ethan, you mean?” I stare at her.
“The parentals. Your dad called complaining to Mom, I guess, and she told me,” she says promptly. “Apparently, Uncle Gordo thinks it’s all a wild goose chase and you shouldn’t trust anything. Sounds familiar!”
“Yeah, he said as much… But you’ve been through it before. You know I can’t just walk away.”
“Nope. If I’d listened to Mom’s ranting and raving, I never would’ve gotten a cute lake house or a husband. You have to ignore him.”
Good advice, and I’m not surprised she’s so point-blank after everything she went through.
Also, I wish Dad would stop whining about Gramps to everyone else in the family.
Even Margot’s parents might’ve changed their tune, or so I’ve heard.
Maybe because both their kids are happily married thanks to the will. That takes the sting out of whatever drama happened in the past.
“I dunno, Margot. Don’t think I’m going to get a hot husband out of it. You were lucky.” Idly, I swirl my finger over the rim of my cup.
“Don’t I know it! And I’d do it all over again. Creepy locals and AI deranged nutjobs are no match for true love.” She sighs fondly.
“You’re way more chill than I would’ve been.” I smile and shake my head.
I don’t know why that makes me sad. Nobody walked into their little inheritance challenge thinking they’d wind up married.
Especially in her case.
I seriously doubt Gramps ever meant to play matchmaker with her like he did with Ethan and Hattie.
And in my case, it’s not even that. We just tripped and fell into hot, reckless sex and a lot of mistakes.
But staring at Margot, I wonder if her life’s going to my head.
I keep hearing this tiny, nagging voice in my head. The one that insists Holden could be the one, if only he weren’t as stubborn as a bison.
The thought of losing him turns my heart to ash, even if there’s every reason in the world to walk away.
I try to make small talk, asking about her latest wins in the shoe world. Aside from the hot husband and cute kids, that’s another windfall Margot never expected.
Her shoe design career was about as stagnant as my art before it took off.
She never imagined she’d become a goddess to an army of little girls who now have pretty orthopedic shoes to wear thanks to hers.
I’m a little jealous and a lot awestruck at how well she has her shit together.
“You’re quiet today.” She smiles at me. “What did he leave you? If you don’t mind me asking…”
Right.
PopPop.
“It got tangled up with legal stuff for a while, but… you won’t believe it.” I take a deep breath and tell her about the Hera Egg.
Honestly, it’s a relief to talk to someone about it who isn’t Holden or Jasper Fairfax. Even if she can’t do anything to help, just her knowing takes the crushing burden off my shoulders.
By the end, her eyes are wide, flashing with excitement.
“Holy crap,” she breathes. “That’s way more intense than the lake house.”
“It’s a lot. But you had it worse with the crazy people.”
“Yeah, but we figured out who was causing us trouble and dealt with it. You still don’t know? They just broke in after you turned down the offer? Holy hell. I think I know where I’d be looking.”
“Well, we don’t know if it’s connected. I kind of doubt it,” I say, but I wonder myself.
Holden certainly seems to think so, and for all I know, he’s right.
I just don’t feel it, the possibility that Fairfax could be shady. Rotten enough to risk hurting people.
“Either way, scary,” she whispers.
“For sure. But I think we’re closing in on settling this.
There’s a New York art museum I’m looking at, a smaller one.
They want to pay me to display it, and with security being a really big deal there, it might be perfect.
” I laugh a little, almost like the thought that it could be over makes me nervous.
“I’d be lost without Holden. He’s been so good through all this with the security stuff. ”
“Yeah, I’m sure.” Margot lights up. “Holden Verity. Wouldn’t be Gramps if it didn’t come with all sorts of trouble. And I don’t mean your bandits.”
My cheeks flare.
Oh God, is it that obvious?
She knows.
Of course, she does. She had it easy with Holden, too, when she was the best-behaved kid growing up. He never had to babysit her like he did with me.
I’ve been careful when I mention him, but Margot reads me like a book. She notices how I avoid mentioning him too much.
But what the hell, maybe I wanted to have this conversation.
I’ve been flailing. Stuck in an endless loop of not being able to talk to anyone about it, and I could use an outside perspective.
Even if it’s a little ‘this is how you get over him’ advice. Because right now I feel like the biggest sucker alive.
“He’s not trouble. Not like that,” I tell her.
“You sure?” She props her chin on her hand. “What exactly have you been doing with Holden Verity when you’re not chasing treasure, Clee?”
Fucking.
Repeatedly.
And then fucking up. Also repeatedly.
“For real, if I wasn’t married, I might climb that man like a koala.” She laughs when I don’t answer. “Did you know I had a little crush on him growing up? Just a silly thing, but man…”
Oh, I get it now. I understand it all too well.
Only, my crush is so much worse because it’s based on reality.
“Do I even want to know?” I counter.
“He’s dreamy. And you’re telling me he’s just your bodyguard?”
“What else? Though I’d say he’s more the egg’s bodyguard than mine.”
Nice one, Cleo. Smooth.
You know what, screw it. “But actually… he’s become a bit more than that. I’m not sure anymore, to be honest. It’s crazy.”
“Crazy good, you mean.” She doesn’t gasp or stare in horror; she just sips her drink calmly. “See, I called it.”
“What do you mean, called it? Called what? You haven’t seen me since… what? When you got back from your honeymoon?”
She waves a hand. “All I’m saying is, I knew this would happen. I mean, look at you. Look at him. Stuck together in close quarters since Gramps left you this big wild responsibility. You had to know what was coming.”
“Margot, he used to babysit me.”
I’m being defensive and dumb.
“Yeah, but it’s not like you’re still a kid.” Her smile curls wickedly. “You don’t look anything like you used to back then, so there’s nothing creepy about it.”
“No, but…” I sigh. “How did you know?”