Because of Sydney (23 page)

“They convinced you to drop the suit?”

He shook his head. “No. No one was going to stop me.”

“Then what did it? Why did you change your mind?”

“Don’t get me wrong. They tried. I do have to give them some credit, especially Renee. But I realized my hurt wasn’t Grey’s hurt. And I was no better than Dad if I destroyed the Palm. It would have been selfish like him. As much as I wanted a high-rise here, I found a way to compromise. Something I seldom do.” He pulled his sunglasses away from his eyes, and for the first time since he started talking I realized he was trying to lighten the conversation.

I took his hand, brushing the sand off his skin. “I didn’t know you last year when all of that happened, but I’m glad. I’m glad you didn’t destroy the Palm. And I’m glad you found a way to be friends with Grey.”

“I am too. He’s a good guy.” He stood, stretching his arms above him. “Don’t tell him I said that.”

“Never.” I shook my head.

“Want to swim? It’s hot out here.”

“I wondered how long it would take you before you were restless.”

“Me restless? No. I just want to see how that bikini looks wet.”

I slapped at his chest. “I’ll race you.”

Before he had a chance to realize I had taken off I started running towards the waves. Mason caught up in seconds, grabbing me around the waist and spinning me in the surf.

I realized how we must have looked. Like one of those couples. Like Marin and Pick at the bonfire. Like two people at the end of a movie when the credits are about to roll. The couple you know you should stop watching, but you can’t help it. He set me back on my feet. The minnows swam around our ankles, nibbling at our legs.

I threw my arms around his neck. I didn’t care if every single person saw what happened next. I pulled Mason’s mouth toward me and kissed him. I kissed him with saltwater on our skin, and the sun melting into our shoulders. I kissed him with every breath I had. I couldn’t change what had happened to him—I couldn’t make the things right that his father had done, but I could be here now. As long as he would let now last.

S
ydney had a way of making me forget I had other priorities. I had a multi-million dollar business to run. Saturdays weren’t days off. They were days other people took off. Me? I worked seven days a week.

I watched her lying in the sun next to me. The sun glistening off her wet skin. The straps of her bikini tossed on either side of neck. I thought she might have fallen asleep.

But here I was. Skipping work. Playing on the beach. Acting like my time was free.

I pulled my chair toward the shade under the umbrella. It had moved since we set up camp this morning. I tossed a chip at the same seagull who had been stalking us all day.

“Get out of here!”

He gobbled the chip and flapped his wings until he was only a dot in the sky. He flew behind us over the Palm.

I had expected Sydney to grill me about the lawsuit and about Dad, but she had only listened. Maybe it was because she had her own share of family pain.

There were things I still hadn’t told her. But I didn’t want to rush it. It felt like there was time. We would talk more. I’d ask about Hailey. And she’d ask about my parents. I dug my heels deep in the sand.

I closed my eyes, ignoring the urge to check my phone. Emails could wait. Lachlan Corporation could make it a day if I took a nap on the beach with a pretty girl.

The next day we sat on the balcony.

“When was the last time you took an entire weekend off?” Sydney asked.

There was an open bottle of wine between us. I looked over at her on the chaise. The colors of the Sunday sunset reflected shades of pink off the glass door behind us.

I pretended to search my memory bank. “Uhh. Does my Italy trip count?”

“No, since you told me you went there to scout an olive farm.”

“Did I say that?”

She nodded. “You did. I think you were trying to convince me you traveled for fun.”

I laughed. “Now why would I try to do that?”

She reached to refill her glass. “You weren’t very forthcoming for the feature I wrote.”

“Maybe I should let you interview me again.”

“I can’t do that.” Her head moved back and forth.

“Why not? I’ll widen the circle of questions.”

She crossed one foot over the other. “I think we have officially crossed into unethical territory. If I write a feature about you I wouldn’t be able to be very objective.”

“It’s business. You don’t think you could separate the two?”

“If people know we are—” she paused. “Whatever we are. If they knew, then it would look bad for my journalistic integrity.”

“And your integrity is important to you?”

“Of course.” Her lips pinched together.

“Even if I could give you a story that would impress your boss, you wouldn’t take it because of your ethics?” I pitched the question to her.

Her eyes darted to me. “Why? Do you know something?”

I laughed. “See? Curious aren’t you?”

“Of course I’m curious. Doesn’t mean I was going to use the information.” She took a sip of wine. “But what is it?”

“I just wondered what you would say.”

She exhaled loudly. “I’m going to have to talk to Alice tomorrow about this.”

“Why?”

“You proved the point I was trying to make. I can’t separate us from work. I can’t cover stories about the resort, or about you. It’s not right.”

“Wait a minute. Didn’t you tell me she was willing to move you up if you could give her more exclusives?”

“Yes, but I’ll have to do it another way.”

The sky was getting darker. The pink hues had turned amber. I could feel the weekend sinking behind the clouds with the sun. I hadn’t felt the Sunday blues since I was in high school.

I turned so my feet were on the deck. “Tell me what you’re going to say to her.”

“I haven’t figured it out yet.”

“You are being way too calm about this. If you’re going to have a meeting with your boss, you need a plan. You need to be able to go in there and negotiate with her.”

“Negotiate? I have nothing to offer. I have to tell her our personal relationship compromises my ability to report unbiased information. There’s nothing else I can say.”

I took the wine glass from her hand and placed it next to her. “This is serious. You have to have a strategy.”

“All right.” Her painted toes landed on the floor facing mine. “What do you advise?”

“You can’t ever go into a meeting without something to offer, but most importantly you need to know what you want to get out of it. Stand firm. Stay strong.”

“I want to keep my job.”

I shook my head. “Think bigger than that. You’re taking information to her. You’re giving her something. What can you get?”

Her face twisted in a frown. “I don’t have any information. What are you talking about?”

I had debated how to let this play out, but this would be win-win for both of us.

“I have a story for the
News & Record
. That’s going to be the card you play.”

“You do? What is it?” She was on the edge of the seat. I could see the fire in her eyes.

“We’ll get to that.”

“Mason, if you have a story for me, I need it.”

“I thought you said you couldn’t separate me from work. This story is very specific to one of my latest acquisitions.”

The darker it got, the more I realized the weekend was almost over. Tomorrow was already a beast of a day. I would be on conference calls from seven until seven.

“You didn’t mention you had acquired anything new.” Her eyes narrowed. “What is it?”

“I buy and sell every day. You know that. But you could tell your editor you have a scoop on a South Padre land deal that has a direct impact on the resort. Trade her the story for a chance to focus on the features you really want to write.”

“A trade? But you aren’t going to tell me what it is?”

My hand squeezed her knee. “Remember the mother and daughter from the Cove?”

“Shawna and Lindy? Of course.” She lowered her eyes. “They remind me of—”

“Your sister. I know. I thought the same thing when I met her.”

“You met Shawna? When?”

“I didn’t have much choice after that article you wrote. You basically crucified me in that story.”

“They are going to be homeless, Mason. It wasn’t as if I could put a happy spin on it.”

I took a second to pour another glass of wine for myself. Sydney was still working on hers. The bottle was almost empty.

“No. You’re right. There’s no way to make people losing their homes a happy ending, but I have good news.”

She stared at me, the expectation circling her eyes. “What is it?”

“I am the proud owner of a new campground on the sound side of the island. Shawna and Lindy will be moving in two weeks.” I grinned.

“Are you serious?”

I nodded. The wine was dry and crisp. “It was a good business move. I can relocate ten residents. The mother doesn’t get kicked out on the street. I built in a cushion for the demolition budget, so I’ll use that to make the abandoned lot livable. In a few years when all of this blows over I’ll sell it.”

“But then what will Shawna do?”

“Hopefully by then she’s not still living in a camping trailer.”

“So you did this for the press? To kill the story I wrote?” Her brow was starting to furrow and the lips I loved to kiss so much weren’t smiling.

“Darlin’, I’m building that resort. Things are going to come up along the way. This was one of those things, and I took care of it. I’m happy the mom and little girl have a place to go. But I didn’t promise her anything other than I would get her moved. I don’t owe her a damn thing.”

“How can you say that? She grew up on this beach. She used to vacation here with her family. Lindy’s father has never paid her a cent. That trailer park is all they have. Don’t you get that?”

“What I get is that you made the right decision.”

“What are you talking about?” Her eyes glared.

“There’s no way we can do this.” I grabbed her around the waist, despite the way she struggled in my arms. “And you not cause problems for me. You’d write another story just as damaging if you got the chance.”