Page 2 of A Shore Fling

NINA

T he ride takes longer than anticipated, but that’s nothing new in New York City. Our limousine pulls up in front of the modern concrete and glass building. A wave of nerves strikes me, sending my stomach careening. “I don’t know if I’m up for this,” I say, groaning.

Irene shrugs. “It won’t be that bad. I’ll stay glued to your side if you want.”

“No, you and Richard should make the most of tonight. Drink some champagne and dance.”

“Well, he’s going to be late, so I can help keep Nigel at bay for a bit.”

Our driver opens the door for us, and we carefully climb out.

“Thank you, Aaron,” we say simultaneously.

He grins. “You’re welcome. Behave yourselves in there.”

“No promises,” I trill as Irene and I hook arms and walk toward the entrance. Once inside, we follow the signs directing us to the ballroom.

“Wow,” Irene says in a dreamy sigh. “This would be perfect for a wedding reception.”

She’s right, it would be, if you’re looking for elegance with a touch of ostentatiousness.

“Add it to your list of places.”

“You mean my ever-growing list? I’m gonna need to narrow it down.”

We’ve barely entered the ballroom when Nigel appears by my side. He presses a perfunctory kiss to my cheek before his blue gaze rakes me from head to toe. “Nina, you’re a sight for sore eyes.”

“Thank you, Nigel. You look nice too.”

“Hi, Nigel,” Irene says, reminding him she’s there.

“Hello, Irene. Your parents are over there,” he says, pointing them out.

“Why don’t we get some drinks,” Irene suggests. She hooks her arm through mine, leading me toward the bar, effectively removing us from Nigel’s presence.

“Nicely done,” I say.

A soft giggle slips from her. “You wouldn’t know this, but I’m a great wingwoman. I’ve always been better at that role than at dating.”

There’s a line at the bar, and while we wait, we exchange pleasantries with some familiar faces. As a Moreau, my parents require my siblings and me to attend many formal events. I plaster on a fake smile and say all the right things while wishing I were anywhere else.

Irene hands me a glass of champagne, and we leave the bar area.

“I suppose we don’t have an excuse to avoid our parents any longer,” she says.

“Probably not. Unless you fake an illness. How about appendicitis? I can rush you out of here.”

She laughs. “Yeah, but they’d go to the hospital and we wouldn’t be there.”

“We could tell them it was just a bad case of gas that worked itself out, so we went home.”

She snorts. “I think you should be the gassy one.”

“They wouldn’t believe me. You’re the youngest and the favorite.”

“Ha! Jonathon is Dad’s favorite, for sure,” she states.

“And you’re Mom’s.” So where does that leave me?

“Oh hell. Nigel spotted us. We’re stuck now,” she says.

“Better keep the champagne coming.” I raise my glass before swallowing a gulp.

“I can do that. Just make sure your inhibitions don’t lower too much. You might end up in bed with Nigel.”

I laugh. “All the champagne in the world couldn’t make that happen.”

She snickers. “I feel kind of sorry for Nigel.”

“Why?”

“He has no idea he doesn’t stand a chance of being with you.”

“He’s bound to figure it out sooner or later.”

“Don’t be so sure. It’s been months since Mom and Dad mentioned a match between you two being beneficial, and he’s still holding out hope.”

“I assure you, it’s not because of anything I’m doing. We’ve had interactions where I’ve barely maintained civility. The fact that he’s still hanging around has more to do with our business than any genuine interest in me.”

“That’s shitty, and you deserve better. Someday, you’ll meet a man who wants you purely for your awesomeness.”

A sharp laugh falls from my lips. “How am I going to do that?” It seems like everyone assumes they know my life story as soon as they learn my last name.

“I don’t know how, but I know it’ll happen.”

Good thing I’m not holding my breath.

We’re almost to my parents and Nigel when I elbow Irene. “Quick, clutch your stomach.”

She laughs. “It’s too late for that.”

I drink the rest of my champagne. “Here.” I hand her my empty flute and snatch the almost full one from her hand. “I need all the reinforcements I can get.”

“I’m here for you.” She pats my back, and I send a glance her way.

“That helps.”

“Girls.” Dad addresses us with a nod.

“Hey, Dad.” Irene steps in for a hug.

“Hi, Mom.” Wrapping my arms around her, I squeeze her thin frame. As I draw back, my mother’s assessing gaze scrolls up and down, taking me in.

“You look lovely,” she states, and I instantly feel relieved. My mom can be a harsh critic, and it’s not easy to get her seal of approval.

“Thank you. So do you.” I’m not sure I’ve ever seen my mom with a hair out of place, even when we were little. I wish I knew her secret because most of the time, I feel like a hot mess.

Irene and I switch off, and I share a hug with my dad, then he pulls me to the side.

“Nigel’s been waiting for you.”

I shrug. “We were a little late.”

“I’m speaking about the past six months. It’s time to give the man a real chance.”

My eyebrows press together in a frown. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, but I am. Joining our two families in marriage would be a mutually satisfying partnership.”

“Not for me.”

“Don’t be selfish, Nina. We all have to do things we don’t want for the greater good.”

“You say that, but you didn’t hand-pick Jonathon’s wife or Irene’s fiancé. I want that same respect given to me.”

“What’s the big deal? Nigel is one of New York City’s top bachelors. Any woman would consider him a catch.”

“Not this woman,” I fire back.

“I’ve already spoken to him and implied I’m expecting an engagement by the end of the summer.”

“Dad! What the fuck?” I grit out between clenched teeth.

“Nina, watch your language.”

“No. I’m angry, and I don’t care if that displeases you.”

“You can be upset, but the sooner you accept the plan, the better off you’ll be. I’m trying to do what’s best for you.”

“No. You’re doing what’s best for the company, at my expense. I give more than enough of my time and energy to Moreau, but I’m not willing to sacrifice my romantic life, too. You'd better find another solution.” I step over to Irene and whisper in her ear, “I’m out of here.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Dad pissed me off, and if I don’t leave, I might explode. We don’t need any bad press.”

She pulls me in for a quick hug. “I’ll call you later.”

I nod before walking away.

“Nina,” Nigel calls. Ignoring him, my legs carry me across the ballroom as quickly as they can while wearing heels. All my focus is on getting outside, away from the suffocating expectations. With my chest tight and my emotions heightened, I feel like I could go off at the slightest provocation.

I come upon Jonathon and his wife, Kristin, in the hallway.

“Where are you going?” He points in the direction I just came from. “The party’s this way.”

“I’m calling it a night.”

“What happened?” Kristin asks.

“Dad’s pressuring me to be with Nigel.”

“Eww.” Kristin curls her upper lip.

“What’s so bad about him?” Jonathon asks.

“Please explain to my clueless brother why he’s a bad option. And while you’re at it, maybe you can make him understand that I should be able to pick out my spouse.”

Kristin leans in for a brief hug. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Thank you.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to head back inside with us?” Jonathon asks.

“I’m positive. I’m going home. See you Monday.”

“Enjoy your weekend,” Kristin says.

“You too.” I give a quick wave of my hand as I head toward the exit.

I shovel more Chinese food into my mouth. With every bite, I feel a little calmer. I’m still annoyed and disappointed with my dad, but coming home early and getting out of that dress and heels helped.

Picking up my phone, I log on to social media and scroll through my feed while I eat.

I see former classmates who are married and have children.

I thought I’d be in a similar situation by now, but Mr. Right hasn’t come knocking on my door.

God knows, I certainly haven’t allowed him to meet me anywhere else.

I watch a few funny reels and then scroll through a bunch more before one catches my attention.

ARE YOU TIRED OF THE CORPORATE JUNGLE?

Yes, I am.

DO YOU NEED A brEAK?

Why, yes, I do.

YOU COULD BE RELAXING ON THE SAND OR FROLICKING IN THE OCEAN AS EARLY AS TOMORROW.

Tomorrow? That’s fast.

LET US FIND THE PERFECT BEACH RENTAL FOR YOU.

Yes, please.

Dropping my fork on my plate, I quickly take a screenshot of their website information. I saw this reel for a reason. The algorithm may know me better than I realize. I imagine it tracking all the dog reels and funny reels I watch and then concluding that I need an extended vacation.

“What if you take a break for your emotional well-being? How can Dad refuse that?” Irene’s suggestion comes back to me.

He’d probably still say no… but he can’t if I don’t give him the opportunity.

Although unexpectedly taking time off would be wrong on so many levels.

But in my defense, I haven’t had a vacation in ten years, and even on the weekends, there’s always something work-related for me to attend—like tonight.

Ugh, the gala. Leaving early was out of character for me.

Typically, I suck up all the misery with a smile on my face and tuck it in a little box inside me. But Dad’s words angered me too much.

“I’ve already spoken to him and implied I’m expecting an engagement by the end of the summer.”

And it’s already the middle of July. Thoughts dart around in my head until I come to the perfect conclusion. I can’t get engaged if I’m out of town and no one knows where I am.

I look at the screenshot I took and then pull up the website. Ten minutes later, I’ve successfully booked a beach house rental in Maine, and my flight leaves in the morning.