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I can’t help the small smile that tugs at my lips. She’s so innocent, so free from the burdens of adult life. No worries about business deals, shareholders, or family drama. She doesn’t know how complicated the world can be. She doesn’t have to deal with the moron who is her grandfather, as she doesn’t see him often. She only knows that she has me—and my brothers.
But is that enough?
That thought gnaws at me, keeping me up at night. I ponder where the past five years have gone, and how before I know it, my angel will be a teenager. How am I supposed to help her navigate those years? My father’s words echo in my mind, no matter how much I try to ignore them.
Brooke needs a mother.
I look at her now, so happy and carefree, and it hits me how little time I spend with her. Yes, I see her every day, but it’s fleeting. Just moments. This trip is supposed to be different. I promised myself I’d make more time for her, that I’d be more present. This is supposed to be our time together.
“She’s obsessed with the toilets,” Cari says, her voice soft as she approaches me. The pen I’m holding slips from my fingers, falling to the floor. Before I can reach for it, she bends down, scooping it up.
I wish she hadn’t. The way she leans over gives me a glimpse of her pink satin bra. My throat tightens as I tear my gaze away.
“Here.” She hands the pen back to me with a slight smile, looking relaxed for once. Her hair’s down, falling in soft waves around her shoulders, not pulled back into the neat, businesslike bun she usually wears. It makes her look softer, more approachable. Beautiful.
I glance at my report, desperate to refocus on numbers and projections, anything to distract myself from the direction my thoughts are heading. This trip is going to be a problem. I knew it the second I asked her to come. I should’ve hired someone else. Anyone but her.
“Can you stay close to Brooke?” I ask, my voice rougher than intended.
Her expression falters and she nods before going back to Brooke, her presence lingering long after she’s gone.
I feel like a complete idiot.
Cari didn’t want to go on this trip. She tried to get out of it, and I practically forced her into coming. I dangled her resignation in front of her, used it to push her into agreeing. What kind of person does that?
I’m a moron. A total, selfish moron who uses people.
And now, the last person I should be on an island with is coming to Bermuda with me.
CARI
Brooke is obsessed with the washrooms.
She keeps running back and forth, fascinated by the sliding doors and the way the toilet flushes. It’s strange for a kid to be so excited about a washroom, but I get it. I was excited about everything the first time I flew, too. Even though this isn’t her first time flying, I wonder if it’s her first experience on a commercial airline. Jett usually takes the family jet.
The family jet. I can’t even begin to imagine what that’s like—a private plane with rooms, sofas, and tables, like an apartment in the sky. That’s Jett’s world. A world I’ll never fit into.
I went shopping with Eliana and my aunt and bought a few outfits that will hopefully be fine, given that I don't know what to expect on this trip. Whatever happens, I’m definitely not taking any of Aunt Scarlett's advice.
Instead, I'm just thankful that I'm going to spend most of my time with Brooke. Jett says she likes to spend time at the beach.
But I’m better prepared now, having picked a good, sturdy tankini top and shorts as a bathing suit. My aunt and bestie, however, sneaked the tiniest, barely-there bikini into my suitcase. I already had some nice dresses, but they made me buy a couple more.
I lean against the wall while I wait for Brooke and let my imagination run wild. Replaying a completely fictional scene in my head, like I am prone to do, heat creeps up my neck. In my mind, Jett cups my face, gently unbuttoning my blouse. It’s ridiculous, really. Mom always said I had an overactive imagination.
“Hot?” Jett’s voice breaks into my thoughts, startling me.
I whip around, my heart leaping into my throat. Holy hellfire.
“A little,” I manage to say, lying through my teeth while my heart beats wildly in my chest. This man is so up and down. I didn’t like the tone he used on me earlier, asking me to stay close to Brooke.
His eyes trail down towards my collarbone, before quickly snapping up to my face. “Odd. The AC’s blasting. You sure you’re not coming down with something?”
“No. I’m good.” I raise a hand to my neck, trying to steady myself. The fantasy of Jett unbuttoning my blouse vanishes in an instant, replaced by the all-too-real version of him standing in front of me, hands in his pockets, and looking way too good for my sanity.
This is dangerous. Being thousands of miles away with him, without Eliana’s sensible advice to keep me grounded, is going to be torture. I can already feel myself slipping, letting my imagination take over. If Jett hasn’t figured out my feelings for him by now, he will by the end of this trip. I turn toward the washroom and knock on the door, eager to escape. “Brooke, hurry up, sweetie.”
But instead of Brooke, a pretty young woman walks out, tall and svelte, flashing me a dazzling smile. “Oh, I’m sorry, I thought …” I stammer, spinning around in embarrassment, only to see there’s another washroom directly across the aisle. Of course. I rush over, but it’s empty. My heart sinks.