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So is she coming or not?
Gritting my teeth, I head off to my suite in the main hotel building. It’s on the top floor, smaller than my penthouse in the city, and consists of a living room with a kitchenette, a bedroom, and a bathroom, but it has a great view over the ocean, and I usually love spending time here.
Today, though, my stomach is full of butterflies. I’ve never had a girl turn me down before. My father brought me up to believe in themagic formula: see, want, take. If our gaze falls on something I want, it’s just a matter of time before I close the deal, because everything and everyone has a price.
Except Scarlett, it seems. A mixture of puzzled and frustrated, I shower and shave, then dress in a pair of dark-blue swim shorts and a light-blue T-shirt. Frowning, I change into a short-sleeved shirt and chinos. Then a long-sleeved shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Finally, exasperated with myself, I put the tee and shorts back on, growl at myself in the mirror, and head out to the Aston.
I drive along the winding road through the rolling hills and vineyards with the Pacific Ocean on my right, arriving at Kahukura just before 6:45 p.m.
I pull up outside Scarlett’s house, turn off the engine, and get out. I’m not even sure if she’ll be here. I walk up the path, heart racing. I haven’t felt this anxious before a date for… well, maybe ever. I feel as if I’m sixteen, about to go to the school ball. I refuse to go the Midnight Club alone tonight. I’ve told Kingi I’ll be bringing her, so I’m going to take her with me even if I have to carry her in a firefighter’s lift.
I lift a hand to knock on the door… and it opens.
I lower my hand. She’s wearing a short scarlet sundress with a halter top that reveals she has a bikini on underneath. She’s pinned up her hair and adorned it with a red rosebud. Her red lips match her dress.
She has a bag over her shoulder, and she comes out now and closes the door behind her.
“Hello,” she says, turning to face me.
I stare into her big brown eyes. “I didn’t think you were going to come.”
“I wasn’t sure I would… until I saw you.”
We study each other for about ten seconds.
“I missed you,” I say, my voice husky. “I called you, and messaged you.”
“I know. I did see them.”
“Why didn’t you message me back?” I ask, puzzled.
Her lips part, but she hesitates and drops her gaze to her red sandals. I think she has honestly been torn in two. She wants to see me. But she’s convinced we have no future.
That may be true, but all I can feel is euphoric that she’s here and wants to be with me.
“I told you,” I say softly, moving forward to cup her face, “I’m not going to break your heart.”
“Orson…”
I lower my head and touch my lips to hers. She sighs, her breath whispering across my lips.
When I lift my head, I say, “One step at a time, remember?”
She presses her lips together. Then she nods.
I take her hand. “Come on. We’ve got a party to go to, and I want everyone to meet you.”
Chapter Nineteen
Scarlett
Right up until the moment Orson almost-knocked on the door, I was telling myself I couldn’t go with him. I spent yesterday and most of today arguing with myself, getting ready for the party while at the same time convinced I wasn’t going to go. I carried his phone in my back pocket and felt it buzz each time he messaged or called. I couldn’t bring myself to answer the call, but I did listen to his voice message, and I read the texts he sent. I wanted to reply… but every time I rested my fingers on the keys, I thought of my father and imagined how angry he’d be that I was getting involved with Spencer Cavendish’s son.
And yet here I am, in his car, heading over to the Midnight Club. I feel a pang of shame as I think about the rare times that Dad mentioned the Cavendishes, and the way his eyes would light with fury. I don’t think he’d understand that neither Orson nor I are interested in their feud. He would say I don’t understand the perils of capitalism, and that all Orson wants is to destroy the beauty of the world he created at Kahukura, and I’m betraying everything he worked to build. And I have no doubt that Spencer would say I’m after his son’s money.
“Are you okay?” Orson reaches across to hold my hand.
I look out of the window, listening to the Aston purr its way through the countryside. “I’m nervous that your father is going to be at the party.” His eyes held hostility the last time we met in Orson’s office. It makes me uncomfortable and anxious just to think about it.