Ten Good Reasons (26 page)

He looked into her eyes one more time, to see if there was even a slight sense of hesitation there.

But all he could see was a woman who wanted to escape.

He nodded and cut her loose.

She hustled down the deck behind her boss, glancing back only once. The blood spilled out his heart, through his innards, clogged in his stomach. He wondered how long it would take for it to harden around his organs again and shrivel them up so he could stop feeling.

He glanced down at Drew.

“You asshole.” Drew shoved the wheels of his chair and followed to the edge of the cat. Douglas fell in step behind him, throwing Evan a sympathetic glance.

For another ten minutes, Evan stared at the redness of the setting sun bouncing off the decking tape until it turned duller, darker, then a deep purple. He willed his heart to shut down again.

Then he shoved his sunglasses into the front of his shirt and dragged himself to the edge of the boat. His body felt like it was a hundred years old again. Joe the Mechanic’s kid was standing there at the edge of the dock.

“Hey, Mr. Betancourt. Your engine’s ready.”

Evan meant to say thanks but he couldn’t get words out of his mouth. Instead he nodded, and the kid walked away.

Just in time
, was all he could think.

CHAPTER

W
hat the hell was that?
was all Lia could think as she shuffled down the dock behind the Vampiress, trying to keep up.
And why did she clam up like that?

Why couldn’t she have said what she had really been thinking?
Why couldn’t she have told Evan that his stunning proposal—to travel around the world with him, to see all the countries she’d ever wanted to see, to wake up every morning with a man who made her feel sexy and alive—was about as glorious an idea as she could imagine? But the song her heart had wanted to sing couldn’t come out of her mouth. Just like usual.

She had gone immediately into practical-person mode. Which had shut off her emotions. The practical side of her said it was a stupid idea. How would she make money if she were on a boat for a year? What kind of job would she have when she came back? How would she ever be a success if she drained all of her savings like that? And how could she be a success with a man like Evan, who seemed bent on living only one day at a time? It didn’t fit into her worldview at all.

But, then again,
Evan
 . . .

She couldn’t help the schoolgirl sigh that escaped. And although its dreaminess embarrassed her, it felt kind of good.

Being with a man who made her laugh every day, who could make her smile just with a quick glance, who could give her that kind of passion in bed every night, who could bring her out onto the ocean with the wind in her hair and make her feel so alive, who would stand up for her and protect her when he wanted to just because he
wanted
to . . .

Her heart quickened at the idea of that kind of life.

“Let’s hurry,” said Elle. She dug a brush out of the depths of her tote bag and yanked the wet mink from around her throat. “I have a car waiting.”

“I have my own car, Elle. I’ll just meet you there.”

“No, I need you to help me. Here. Carry this.” She turned and handed Lia her tote bag.

“Elle, you don’t need me to carry your bag.”

“Of course I do. Now let’s talk. Can you be ready to go to Paris this week? I already have an office space, and wanted to send someone ahead to make sure everything’s correct. I can send James with you. . . .”

“I have a dress fitting for my sister’s wedding on Friday.”

“Oh, I’ll need you to leave before that.”

“But I can’t just—”

“And once you’re there, I need you to stay there until July. I already have a flat rented that you can use.”

“Well, I have a few things I have to be back for, with my sister getting married. I’m a bridesmaid, and—”

“Oh, you’ll have to delegate all that, Lia.”

“But I can’t delegate supporting my sister!”

“Of course you can. She can handle it. Doesn’t she have friends?”

“Well, yes, but . . .”

“Then it’s settled. I’ll send you and James on Thursday. Here’s the car. Let me make a call. . . .”

Lia accompanied Elle back to her penthouse apartment, her mind whirling the whole time Elle was on the phone about how she might explain this to Giselle and Fin, how she might make the arrangements with the clients she was handling pro-bono, how she’d help Drew finalize whatever he needed for his boat, whether she could bring Missy to Paris, what she would pack, and—most of all—how she
absolutely
had to go back to Evan’s tonight and apologize.

She couldn’t leave him feeling like he was anything but special. She’d made a terrible mistake, not saying what she was feeling. She needed him to know he was a special man, and that he was truly going to make a very lucky woman happy someday. And she wished it could be her. . . .

The sigh escaped her again, and she glanced quickly at Elle to make sure she hadn’t heard. Elle continued talking. Lia took a deep breath and stared out the window. She’d get over there to tell him the moment Elle was done with her.

Back at the office, Lia and Elle flipped on the fluorescent lights of floor twenty-three and sat in the middle of the otherwise-darkened space. Lights popped up all over the city as night fell. They spread papers across the desks and rearranged files to launch the new campaigns in France. Elle went over the campaigns in detail, showed Lia the new blueprints for the Paris space that she wanted Lia to make sure were carried out, quizzed Lia on her French and signed her up online for refresher French lessons, then pointed to a few boxes she would be shipping that she wanted Lia to look out for. While they were setting up the new administrative files, Lia checked the time again on her cell.

“You’ve looked at that phone about fifteen times in the last twenty minutes,” Elle said.

“Oh, I just . . . There’s someone I need to see.”

“Where’s your work ethic? You usually stay here late with no problem.”

“It’s not a problem. There’s just someone . . . He’s leaving tomorrow, and I just need to . . .”

Lia gave up. Elle wasn’t listening anymore.

“Listen,” Elle said, bending forward to stare at a computer monitor, “if you want to be like me, you’re going to have to give up a few things. You have to get your priorities straight.”

Lia lifted an eyebrow and let her eyes slide across Elle’s desk. Elle had seven crystal-framed photos across the top, but each was a picture of her and a politician—no family, no friends. Gifts and cards lined her sideboard, but none was a little crayon drawing from a niece. A beautiful bouquet of flowers erupted from a crystal vase on the right side of the desk, but Lia happened to know that Elle had them shipped to herself once a week: tulips one week, daffodils the next. A closet door stood
slightly ajar, packed with the clothing Elle kept for when she spent the night in the office, and lined with high-heeled shoes, but not one was an ugly pair of blue to wear while she stood up for a friend or sister in a bridesmaid dress. . . .

Lia’s heart started racing.
Is this what she was going to become?

“Um, Elle . . .”

Elle hardly looked up, but instead handed Lia a folder. “Here, why don’t you start on this? Can you get us some coffee? This might take a while.”

“Um, Elle, I don’t think I can go to Paris.”

Elle finally looked up. Her chair creaked as it turned toward Lia. “What?”

“I can’t go. I have to stay here to help my sister, just until July. And then I have two friends getting married in August and September. And I can’t work late anymore. I have friends and family and a niece whose events I’ve already missed too many times, and I’d like to spend time with them. And I can’t even stay this minute.” Her heart thundered as she reached for her purse. “I have someone very important to me who might be hurting because of something I said—or didn’t say—and I need to go to him right now. Will you call the car around?” Lia set the folders aside and backed toward the hallway, staring at Elle’s eyes, which darkened and narrowed.

“
What
?” she screeched. “Lia, this is crazy. We’ve been planning this for—”

“No, Elle, we weren’t.” Lia could hear the shaking in her voice, but she needed to stand up for herself. Evan was right. Sometimes people took advantage of you when you always tried to be nice. “You originally said July. And I’ve been working my butt off for you, working toward that July date, but you’ve been taking advantage of me. I need to go.” Suddenly she felt she couldn’t wait another second to see Evan. She whirled toward the doorway and snaked her way through the rows of desks.

“Lia! Don’t you dare leave!” Elle’s voice zinged off the darkened walls. “If you walk out this door, you might not have a desk to return to!”

“I’ll take my chances.” Lia flew into the hallway and banged the elevator buttons.

Lia wanted to see Paris with someone she
loved
. She wanted to spend more time with her sisters, spend more time with her mom, spend more time with her friends and her little niece, and
live the life
she was working so damned hard for.

She also, in this moment, desperately wanted to see Evan. Maybe she would leave with him, if he could wait until after the wedding. It wasn’t like her to be so impulsive, but she had a crazy amount of money saved up, given all the vacations she never took. She could introduce him to her friends—they’d all love him, especially Xavier and Fin. And she could help him with Drew. And maybe she could join him to see his parents. . . .

She’d be helping him heal.

And he’d be helping her
live
.

Because what was success without the friends, family, and passion to enjoy it?

The elevator finally dinged and she slipped inside and jabbed at the lobby button.

When the car finally dropped her off back in the marina parking lot, she flew out the door, bypassed her own car, and hustled down to the docks.

The lamps sputtered as she picked up speed, running down the ramps, imagining how strong and warm Evan’s arms would feel. She pictured his smile when he saw her—it would be tentative at first because she might have hurt him. But she’d assure him immediately that she was so, so sorry. And she’d tell him that he was the most amazing man she’d ever met. And that he was kind, and caring. And that, as crazy as it sounded, she might have just fallen in love for the first time. With him. With Evan Betancourt.

The dock planks disappeared beneath her feet, one by one, as she ran all the way to the end, past the sputtering light and then around the last T-shaped dock.

But as she came to a halt around that final corner, she stopped short and gripped her purse to her chest.

Slip ninety-two was empty.

CHAPTER

T
he park overlooking Sandy Cove Beach was filled with wedding guests, who mingled with cups of punch under the cool July breeze.

Lia made her way between them, greeting the ones she knew, fluffing her full blue skirt out of the way when the wind blew too hard. She tried to cover her mismatched shoes so no one would see. Noelle, Giselle, and her mother were all irritated at her for losing the blue stilettos with the sparkly hardware. It was the one pair they had all fallen in love with. Noelle and all the other bridesmaids had ordered the same ones, based on Lia’s recommendation, but then Lia lost hers and couldn’t find the same pair in her size. Well, she didn’t lose them, exactly. She lost one. And she knew where it was. It was on Evan’s boat, probably somewhere past New Zealand by now. To keep everyone from being frustrated at her, she simply bought the shoes in a size too small and wore one small one for pictures. Every time she thought about those stilettos, and the way he’d seduced her that night with them still on, her bones felt like they were melting.

She let out a deep sigh.

Remembering Evan made her sad. It had been five months
he’d been gone now, without a word, and she had to simply keep shoving the thoughts aside. She’d made a terrible mistake, not speaking up when she should have and not telling Evan how she really felt. And not realizing earlier on that people were important, not the ridiculous concept of “success” she had had. She wished she could do it all over again. Drew and Cora were right: You had to give your whole heart fearlessly, or you wouldn’t really know true love. You had to jump into the abyss.

And she’d been a coward.

She’d tried to find out from Drew if Evan had sailed north to see their parents. Drew called his mom and dad to ask several times, but they’d said no. He told Lia that Evan had also considered traveling south and starting his circumference again from Panama. Either way, she had no idea if she’d ever see him again. She supposed she could wait another two years, to see if he’d land in Sandy Cove again, but Drew always looked suspicious when she brought Evan up, so she might not really know if and when that happened. Would Drew even tell her?

She had quit her job with Elle. That felt good. Elle just wouldn’t budge about the time off, so Lia finally garnered the nerve to quit and start her own marketing business. Her friends really rallied around her and insisted on paying her for all her work from that point on: Mr. Brimmer on Main Street, Vivi, Fin paid for Rabbit’s surf camp, Xavier’s boss even asked for some work. Drew came through best—Kyle had invested in his boat, and Drew was suddenly rolling in dough. He paid her probably twice what she was worth to do half as much, but he said she was worth it. Even Sharon agreed.

And Kyle—although he stayed loyal to Elle—pitched Lia’s services all over, and got her another four huge accounts, two from people who had been on the charter during the disentanglement. They felt like they’d all gone through something important together with Valentine’s baby—Lia included—and treated her more like a war buddy than a PR person.

Lia sighed. The work was all good. And she loved spending more time with her family and friends. But she could never shake the feeling that she let the man who could have been the love of her life slip away into the night ocean. She often lay in bed at night, trying to think of ten good reasons she needed to
forget about him now—ten good reasons to just let his memory slip away. She could only ever come up with three.

Her shoes kept getting caught in the grass as she made an attempt to circulate among Fin and Giselle’s guests. She finally spotted a patch of cement and leaped onto it with the comfortable foot in the right-sized shoe. The cement led her away from the guests, but right now it felt like a nice respite. She hobbled along the meandering path to enjoy the view.

Sandy Cove sprawled out like a jewel beneath her. She took a sip of her punch and took in the whole area—the marina was especially pretty from here. She glanced at the rows of boats that looked like little toys from this height and couldn’t help but think of Evan again. Since he wasn’t one for social media—or even a cell phone, for that matter—she had no idea. She wondered if he’d ever send a postcard, even. She wondered if she’d hurt him too much.

“Hey.”

She turned to see Drew. He had the casts off but was still using a small cane he hated for balance. He’d managed to lacquer it in black so it would blend in with his tuxedo while he stood up for Fin with Rabbit and the other groomsmen.

“What are you doing here on the outskirts?” he asked. “You’re usually the center of attention. Which would be over there.” He motioned with the cane.

“I just needed a minute, I guess.”

Drew nodded and they both stared at the Sandy Cove marina. The sun cast glittering diamonds over the waves as they rolled in gently below.

“You really miss him, huh?” he asked.

Lia was first startled that Drew read her dreamy gazing so easily. But then she knew she shouldn’t be. He knew her well. “Yes.”

The waves crashed below, and they watched them quietly for a minute.

“He’s a good man, Drew,” she finally said.

Drew didn’t answer right away, studying his shoes. “Renece thought so, too.”

“He told me about all that.”

“About what a jerk I was?”

“He didn’t word it that way.”

“Then he is a good man.”

The waves crashed a few more times.

“Did he tell you more than that?” Drew asked.

“There was more?”

“There was the part about you.”

“The part about
me
?”

Drew nodded. “That the whole story about Evan and me and Renece was becoming the same story about Evan and me and you.”

“What are you talking about? You don’t have feelings for m—” She froze and turned slowly. Several memories flashed past. Drew kissing her that one time. Evan asking so often if she and Drew were in a relationship. The way Drew scowled the night he found them together.

“Do you have
feelings
for me, Drew?” She whispered the question because she could hardly form it into solid words.

“Don’t worry—it’s a thing of the past.” He gave a weak smile. “I’m crazy about Sharon. But I did, yes. And when Evan came swooping in here, I guess it just riled everything up—my old feelings about Renece, my old feelings about you, how much I felt he betrayed me, how much I felt he disregarded me. . . .”

“He doesn’t disregard you.”

“I know that now. We got some things worked out. But I still asked him not to use you, or hurt you. I just couldn’t bear that. It would have meant more disregard for me. And certainly pain for you that you didn’t need. And then, when I saw your face on the charter that night . . . I thought he had. Disregarded both of us.”

“No! He wasn’t hurting me. He was actually being incredibly kind, and honest, and telling me he’d like to be with me. . . . I was the one who was doing the hurting. I should have been more honest and not so emotionally constipated.”

Drew snorted. “Were you doing your ‘keep me at arm’s length’ thing again?”

“I was. I’m an idiot.”

They watched the waves below for a while.

“He left because he thought we rejected him,” Drew said.

Lia nodded. “But we didn’t. We should have been more straightforward.”

“I’ve been a jerk.”

“Lia!”

Lia turned to see Giselle calling to her from across the grass.

“Time for bridesmaids pictures!”

“My turn, I guess.” Lia tried to smile.

She saw the other bridesmaids walking down a path toward the rocky cliffs below, but she saw that Giselle was heading toward a long set of cement stairs—probably to maneuver better in her long dress—and went to help. Together, they took the stairs slowly. So slowly, in fact, Lia had time to glance up and gaze at the marina every fifth step or so.

Giselle smiled. “Looking for Evan’s boat?”

Lia looked away. Caught. She’d told Giselle and Noelle everything about Evan. It felt good to open up to her sisters again, sitting on the floor of her apartment and drinking wine and having one of their old-fashioned “whine fests.” After the huge mistake she’d made by clamming up with Evan, she’d vowed not to do it anymore with anyone else. And she started with her sisters. From now on, it was put your emotions out there. So far, it hadn’t resulted in the world ending. In fact, it had only resulted in feeling better and more connected than she ever had. It finally dawned on her that
that
was the feeling of success.

Giselle fluffed her full, white dress. It was a 1950s vintage-style gown that suited her Grace Kelly looks beautifully.

“You look gorgeous, Giselle. I’m so happy you found your real love.”

Giselle looked up, surprised, and pulled Lia into a tight hug, despite their precarious position on the stairway. “You will, too,” she whispered.

The “find” in question came into view at the base of the steps.

“Careful up there,” Fin said. He stepped forward in his tuxedo and helped Giselle the rest of the way down the stairs. His wetsuit-modeling days came in handy as he smiled naturally at the wedding photographer, who appeared in the cove and got busy snapping candids of the three of them. They moved across the sand and came to a small outcropping of rocks.

“Want to get a shot of you two and your bridesmaid there?” the photographer called over the crashing waves, pointing toward Lia.

“How about a picture of me saving our bridesmaid from falling into the ocean?” Fin mumbled, reaching for Lia’s hand as she tried to climb over the rocks herself.

“I’ve got it!” Lia slapped his hand back. “What do you think I am, some ninety-year-old lady?”

“You’re as feisty as one,” Fin said.

She crawled to the top of the rock, but her foot slipped, and the danged new shoe went sliding. Down. Into. The. Ocean.

“Damn it!” Lia cried. “I spent four friggin’ months looking for that shoe!” An unreasonable sadness clogged her chest and she almost thought she was going to cry. Her emotions were obviously out of control.

“And I think I slept on it one night,” came a voice from below the rocks.

Suddenly, the voice’s head crested—
Evan!

“You’re not going to tumble down next, are you?” he asked.

Her heart started pounding.

“She might,” Fin said. “But I wouldn’t try to help her.”

“Oh, I know better.”

Evan hoisted himself onto the rock platform. He had on navy trousers and a white button-down shirt with a neat, narrow tie that swung as he lifted himself up. Lia blinked back the incongruity of seeing him standing there. Her heart pumped out of her chest.

“What are you
doing
here?” she finally managed to squeak out.

“Brought you this.” Her blue stiletto dangled from his fingertip. “Thought you might need it today.”

“You . . . you came
all the way back
here just to . . . to . . . bring me a
shoe
?”

“Well, and I forgot something.”

The hope that had buoyed her chest when she saw him sunk. All those months of missing him, all those nights of realizing the mistakes she’d made, all those mornings of trying to conjure him at her doorway sunk like a rock in her chest. What might he have forgotten? The parts strewn across his deck? His motor pieces? His jacket? . . . Her disappointment tasted bitter in the back of her throat.

“What did you forget?” She looked away so he wouldn’t see the tears threatening.

“You.”

Lia’s heart did a quick-and-stutter again.

He shoved his other hand in his pocket. Giselle and Fin, who were standing there gawking, suddenly seemed to capture Evan’s attention.

“Congratulations,” he said, nodding to them both.

“Thanks.” Fin stretched out his hand. “Fin Hensen.”

“Evan Betancourt.”

“I’ve heard about you.”

“Have you, now?”

“Good things.”

“That surprises me.”

“Why is that?”

“I think I may have made some mistakes.” Evan glanced at Lia.

Fin looked between Lia and Evan for several beats, then smiled and waved his hand back toward the guests. “Well, we have to . . . uh . . . Giselle? . . . Don’t we need to get back?”

Giselle was smiling at Lia. “We do.” She turned toward the photographer. “Tell the bridesmaids to meet us back up there—we’ll take our pictures by the gazebo.”

Giselle fluffed her bouffant dress and pulled it back so she could walk more gracefully along the rocks. She let Fin reach over and hold her arm, leaning into him. Lia noted the gesture with interest. It didn’t look weak. It didn’t look too dependent. It didn’t make Giselle look incompetent. It didn’t look like an abyss.

It looked like grace and loveliness and deep, deep trust, and—most importantly—it looked like love.

Lia’s eyes felt misty as she watched her buddy and sister.

“I’m sure there’s plenty of food and drink for an extra guest, Evan,” Giselle yelled back, watching her footing. “You should come.”

“Thank you.”

Giselle and Fin wandered back up the beach, hand in hand, leaning toward each other.

“Evan, I’m—”

“Lia, I’m—” he said at the same time.

They both laughed.

“You go first,” he said.

“Let’s sit down.”

She teetered around the outcropping, heading toward a large rock where they could sit. She saw his hand jolt forward to help her, but he withdrew it quickly and ran it across the back of his neck.

After a slight hesitation, she reached back and took it. She let him help her over the rocks.

“Evan, I’m sorry,” she said. “For not saying so many things I meant to that day. I went back for you.”

He lifted his eyebrow. “When?”

“That night.”

He looked away. They got to the lone rock and sat down. He bent forward and put the shoe in the sand.

“I’m sorry, too,” he said. “I shouldn’t have had such a knee-jerk reaction. I regretted leaving before I even hit Guadalajara. But by then I didn’t want to turn around. I figured I didn’t have anything to go back for.”

“I’m so sorry. I should have said what I was feeling. I shouldn’t have let Elle pull me away to work again, and I shouldn’t have worked so late that night. I might have caught you. I . . . I quit, by the way.”