Page 97 of Redemption

“What do you think of it?”

She shook her head, a rueful smile on her face. “I think it’s out of the box and maybe a little off-brand but also sounds super cool.”

“What is it?” I asked, curious.

“He wants us to go to this luxury glamping village in Marrakesh.”

“Is that a Huxley Grand property?”

“No. But Jasper wants it to be. He’s definitely the dreamer of the three of us. A creative thinker. He’s great with details, but his passion lies in the guest experience. And he’s good at it too, even if Graham doesn’t always recognize or appreciate that,” she added in a darker tone.

“And what is Graham?”

“The critic.” That didn’t surprise me.

“And you?” I switched on my signal and then turned into a parking lot.

“The realist.” I wasn’t sure that had always been the case, but it was true now. I’d seen it in action on the boat. She was definitely good at making a plan and implementing it. She could also adapt and think on her feet.

I put the car in park and turned to her. “Perhaps, but I also think you’re the glue.”

We climbed out of the car. I monitored the area from behind my sunglasses. Nothing suspicious, but I was on high alert. There had been an influx of guests, thanks to the upcoming eclipse.

“Does that bother you?” I asked, returning to something she’d mentioned earlier. “Graham’s lack of recognition for Jasper’s ideas.”

“Sometimes, yeah.” She dragged a hand through her hair. “Jasper likes to tease, and it can grate on Graham. And Graham’s…stiffness can chafe Jasper. They just have very different personalities. At times, it’s great because it means that we see things the others don’t. But it can also lead to a lot of discord.”

“It sounds like you get stuck in the middle a lot.”

“Not as often as you’d think. But when I do, it gets old real quick.”

“If you didn’t run the family hotel business, what would you want to do?” I asked.

“I’m not sure I ever gave it much thought. I knew from a pretty early age what was expected of me. I just didn’t anticipate having to step up so young.”

I placed my hand on her lower back as we crossed the street. “I’m sorry about your grandparents. I know how close you were to them, especially your gran.”

They were the only parents she’d ever known. Her parents had died in a plane crash when she was so young, she barely had any memories of them. I didn’t know which was worse—never knowing your parent and always wondering what you’d missed out on, like Sloan. Or having a close relationship and years of memories that only made the loss feel more profound, like me losing my dad. It didn’t really matter. Any loss was painful.

Sloan slipped her hand in mine, and I held it there. I rubbed my thumb over the back of her hand, wanting to reassure her that I wasn’t going anywhere. We might not be allowed to have sex, but surely holding hands was okay. Especially if it helped with our cover story.

Right. Even I didn’t buy that.

“Ooh, this one looks cute.” She indicated to a store with a bunch of conch shells and stuffed animals in the window. “Maybe I’ll find something for Brooklyn here.”

I held open the door, and the seashells over the door chimed. The salesperson greeted us and then left us to our own devices.

Sloan tried on some wild sunglasses.

“Nice.” I chuckled.

She put a ridiculous hat on my head. I rolled my eyes and set it back on the rack. She smiled. It made me happy to see her so carefree.

I scanned the store for threats while she looked for Brooklyn’s name on the personalized keychains. Perused the glass case of jewelry. Other customers shifted around the space, and I kept an eye on them while Sloan shopped.

“What do you think of this for Brooklyn?” I finally asked, holding up a stuffed sea turtle. “I know she has a million stuffed animals, but this just seemed like her.”

Sloan smiled brightly. “She’ll love it.” She pushed up on her toes and kissed my cheek.

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