In that way, she was a lot like her brother, who I knew and loved as the fiancé of my former boss, Mark.
Megumi walked up on my other side, carrying two more drinks. She looked at the empty lounger where my mom had been. “Where’s Monica?”
“She went to cool off in the water.” I looked for her but didn’t see her. She was hard to miss in her lavender bikini, so I figured she’d wandered off somewhere. “She’ll be back.”
She’d been with us the whole time, partying alongside us every step of the way. It wasn’t her style to drink too much and stay up too late, but she seemed to be having fun. She was certainly causing a stir. Men of all ages flocked around her. There was a kittenish sensuality about my mother that was irresistible. I wished I had that.
“Look at him go,” Shawna said, drawing my attention to where Cary played in the surf. “He’s a total chick magnet.”
“Oh yeah.”
The beach was packed, so much so that it was hard to see the sand. Dozens of shoulders and heads bobbed amid the ocean waves, but it was easy to see the cluster around Cary. He was flashing his grin, soaking up the attention like a cat in the sun. With his hair slicked back, the beauty of his gorgeous face was on display, despite the aviator shades he wore to block out the bright sun.
Catching me watching him, he waved. I blew him a kiss, just to stir things up.
“You and Cary never got together?” Shawna asked. “Did you ever want to?”
I shook my head. Cary was stunning now, healthy and leanly muscular, a prime example of the perfect male. But when I’d met him, he had been gaunt and hollow-eyed, always shrouded in hoodies even in the warmth of San Diego summers. He’d kept his arms covered to hide the evidence of his cutting and wore the hood over his closely cropped head.
In group therapy sessions, he’d always sat outside the circle and against a wall, his chair kicked back to balance on the rear legs. He commented rarely, but when he did, his humor was dark and laced with sarcasm, his insight almost always cynical.
I had approached him once, unable to ignore the deep inner pain that radiated from him. Don’t waste my time easing into it, he’d said smoothly, his beautiful green eyes devoid of any light at all. You want to ride my dick, just say so. I never say no to a fuck.
I knew that was true. Dr. Travis had a lot of messed-up patients, many of whom used sex as a salve or form of self-punishment. Cary was available to be used by all of them, and many walked through that open-door invitation frequently.
No, thanks, I’d shot back, disgust triggered by his sexual aggression. You’re too skinny for me. Eat a fucking cheeseburger, dickhead.
I regretted trying to be nice to him after that. He’d stalked me mercilessly, constantly putting me off with crass sexual come-ons. I’d been prickly at first. When that didn’t work, I’d killed him with kindness. Eventually, he’d realized I really wasn’t going to sleep with him.
In the meantime, he started putting on weight. He let his hair start growing out. He stopped being the resident fuck, although he was simply more selective. I had noticed how gorgeous he was, but there was no attraction there. He was too much like me and my self-preservation instincts had been on high alert.
“We were friends,” I told her. “Then he became like a brother to me.”
“I adore him,” Megumi said, smoothing suntan lotion over her legs. “He told me that things are rough with him and Trey right now. I’m sorry to hear that. They’re so great together.”
I nodded, my gaze going back to my dearest friend. Cary was lifting a woman up by the waist to toss her into the waves. She came up sputtering and laughing, clearly smitten. “It’s lame to say that it’ll work out if it’s meant to, but that’s what I’m going with.”
I still needed to call Trey. And Gideon’s mom, Elizabeth. I wanted to touch base with Ireland, too. And Chris. Since I’d probably be wiped out from jet lag and too much alcohol, I made a mental note to fit in all those calls while I recovered at the penthouse. I had to touch base with my dad, too, since I’d put off our scheduled Saturday call due to the time difference between us.
“I don’t want to go home.” Megumi stretched out with a sigh, her drink in her hands. “These two days went by too fast. I can’t believe we’re leaving in a few hours.”
I could easily stay another week, if I weren’t missing Gideon so much.
“Eva, honey.”
My head tilted at the sound of my mom’s voice. She’d come up behind me and stood behind my lounger wrapped in her cover-up. “Is it time to go already?”
She shook her head. Then I noticed she was wringing her hands. Never a good sign.
“Can you come back to the hotel with me?” she asked. “I need to talk to you about something.”
I saw Clancy standing behind her, his jaw tight and hard. My pulse began to race. Standing, I grabbed the sarong I’d worn down to the beach and tied it around my waist.
“Should we come?” Shawna asked, sitting up.
“Stay here with Cary,” my mom replied, offering a reassuring smile.
It amazed me how she did that, acting so cool and unruffled when I knew she was anxious. I was too expressive to hide my reactions, but my mom only showed emotion with her eyes and her hands, often saying that even laughter put lines on a face. Since she was wearing sunglasses, she was effectively camouflaged.
Mutely, I followed her and Clancy back to the hotel. Once we reached the lobby, it seemed like every employee had to greet us with a smile or wave. They all knew who I was. After all, we were staying in one of Gideon’s resorts. The name Vientos Cruzados meant Crosswinds.
Gideon had married me at a Crosswinds resort. I hadn’t realized they were a global chain.
We stepped into an elevator and Clancy slid a key card into the necessary slot, a security measure that limited access to our floor. Since there were other people in the car with us, I still had to wait for answers.
I felt sick to my stomach, my thoughts bouncing all over the place. Had something happened to Gideon? Or my dad? I realized I’d left my phone on the table by my drink and kicked myself. If I could only send a quick text to Gideon, I’d feel like I was doing something besides driving myself crazy.
After three stops, the elevator car was empty except for us as we continued the climb to our floor.
“What’s going on?” I asked, turning to face both my mom and Clancy.
She pulled her shades off with trembling fingers. “There’s a scandal brewing,” she began. “Mostly online.”
Which meant it was out of control. Or about to be. “Mom. Just tell me.”
She took a deep breath. “There are some pictures …” She glanced at Clancy for help.
“Of what?” I thought I might vomit. Had the pictures my stepbrother Nathan had taken gotten out somehow? Or stills from the sex tape with Brett?
“Photos of Gideon Cross in Brazil went viral this morning,” Clancy said. He spoke neutrally, but there was something oddly stiff about his stance. So much tension was unusual for him.
I felt as if I’d been punched in the gut. I didn’t say anything more. There was nothing to say until I saw the evidence.
We exited directly into our suite, a massive space with several bedrooms and a large central living area. The maids had opened the doors leading out to the wraparound balcony, and the sheer drapes fluttered in the breeze, escaping the ties meant to contain them. Bright with the color and warmth of Spain, the suite had delighted me the moment we arrived.
I barely registered any of it now.
I walked on shaky legs to the couch and waited for Clancy to key in his code on a tablet and pass it over to me. My mom took the seat beside me, silently offering her support.
Looking down, I sucked in a quick audible breath. My chest felt like it was being crushed in a vise. What I saw freaked me out … it was as if someone had crawled inside my head and captured one of the images in my mind.
My gaze locked on Gideon, so dark and gorgeous dressed entirely in black. The fall of his hair partially hid his face, but it was clearly my husband. I hoped it wouldn’t be, tried to find something that would betray the man in the photo as a fraud. But I knew Gideon’s body as well as I knew my own. Knew how he moved. How he relaxed. How he seduced.
I looked away from that beloved figure in the center of the obscene tableau, unable to bear it.
A U-shaped sectional sofa. Black velvet curtains. A half-dozen bottles of top-shelf liquor on a low table.
A private VIP booth.
A slender brunette reclined on a mound of throw pillows. The low V of her sequined top shoved aside. Gideon’s body was partly over hers. His mouth sucked her nipple.
A second leggy brunette. Draped over his back. One thigh hooked over his. Her legs spread. Her mouth a wide O of pleasure. Gideon’s arm reached behind him. His hand beneath her short skirt.
It wasn’t visible, but his fingers were inside her. I knew it. It was a sharp, jagged knife in my heart.
The image blurred as I blinked the tears away, feeling them run hotly down my face. I scrolled, swiping the picture out of sight. Then I saw my name and scanned the writer’s crude speculation as to what I would think about my fiancé’s sexcapades as he said farewell to bachelorhood.