Page 25 of Fake Dark Vows
“Very funny.” He isn’t laughing. “I meant how did you know that was something my father would enjoy?”
“I didn’t.” I straighten and look him in the eye. For once, I’m not holding anything spillable, and he seems a little less wary of me than on previous occasions. “I just wondered what you could possibly gift the man who has everything. And being a king—even if it’s only make-believe—popped into my head.”
He nods. “I found a castle, by the way, just so you know that I followed through on your suggestion.”
“You’re welcome,” I blurt out without thinking.
I chew my bottom lip to stop myself from saying anything else I might regret. It feels like we’ve reached a kind of understanding where we can at least look each other in the eye without wanting to yell or throw something hard and heavy, and I don’t want to spoil it.
He opens his mouth to speak and then changes his mind.
“Thank you are the words you’re looking for.” Me and my big mouth.
“Do you make a habit of spending other people’s money like that?”
I don’t understand him, I really don’t. One moment, he’s acting like he’s almost normal, and the next, he’s the tyrant sitting in his high tower again. “You would’ve bought a gift, anyway, wouldn’t you?”
Our eyes lock and it feels like he’s trying to get inside my head and poke about with a stick to figure out what’s going on. I’m starting to think that he spends so much time in the boardroom that he doesn’t know how to speak to women.
“What do you want, Rose?” he asks quietly.
“I…” I shake my head. “I don’t understand. What do you mean?”
“I mean what are you hoping to get out of this?”
“This?” I spread my hands and peer around the kitchen.
“My family,” he says. “My mom. Playing with her grandchildren and jumping in feet-first with Scottish castles. What are you trying to prove—that she can’t exist without you?”
“I… No.” Tears well in my eyes and I blink furiously, praying that they won’t spill. “I’m not trying to prove anything. I was just trying to help.”
He cricks his neck from side to side like he’s trying to ease the ache in his muscles. “I don’t need your help, Rose. We managed just fine before you came along, and we’ll manage just fine once this is over. My mom won’t even remember you this time next year.”
I sniff loudly and suck in my lips. Don’t cry, I tell myself. Don’t cry!
He turns around and walks away because that’s what men like Brandon Weiss do. They have the last word, keep people in their place to make sure they always stay on top.
“It’s not a crime, you know,” I say, and he freezes in the doorway with his back to me. “Helping people out and wanting nothing in return.”
“Maybe where you come from.” Then he’s gone.
I’m still smarting from his words when I serve drinks on the porch. I sense everyone’s eyes on me, which makes me even clumsier than usual, and when I spill Harry Weiss’s gin and tonic down the front of his shirt, the tears finally erupt.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” I say, finding a napkin and trying to dab up the worst of the spillage. My fingers brush his chest and I flinch as if burnt. I finally understand what Brandon was trying to say—he thinks I’m after their money.
“It’s fine, honey.” Harry Weiss stands and wipes the front of his own shirt, while his friends watch with bemused expressions. “I have two sons. You think I never got a drink spilled on my shirt before?”
I swallow. “Let me pour you another drink.”
“That would be fantastic, honey.”
Their voices follow me back to the drinks trolley, but I can’t hear the words. Are they laughing at me? No doubt, Brandon will seize the opportunity to get me off the island now and replace me with someone competent. Why did it have to be Harry Weiss?
I return with a second drink which I manage to hand over intact and refill his friends’ drinks. The buzz of excitement from planning the treasure hunt is gone, and I feel like an emotional husk brimming with hot stinging tears.
Back at the drinks trolley, I take some deep breaths, and scan the horizon for an escape route. How long would it take to swim to the nearest island? Perhaps I could borrow a boat when everyone else has retired for the night and leave it at one of the Keys with some money and a written apology.
Ruby’s manicured fingers wrap gently around my arm, and she says, “I swear this island has the best view of all the Keys. It’s why I persuaded Harry to buy it. I always knew that one day, I’d be standing here on my porch, breathing in the sea air and enjoying a cocktail with my friends.”