Page 20 of Grand Escape

“Dig in, more’s coming,” she said before scurrying away.

“Ladies first,” Adam said.

“Guests first.”

“Well, Shell didn’t do such a good job of telling me what things were, so fill me in.”

After I gave him a quick rundown on the food, he dug into the slaw first. Or the “raisiny and creamy slaw,” which was how I’d described it.

“Heaven,” he murmured. “Raisiny, just like you said, and the sweetness really sets off the tang of the mayo.”

I took a prawn and some slaw and let him do the honors with the conch fritters.

With the tang of salt and the sweet aroma of the plantains filling the air, I felt relaxed for the first time in a long time. Maybe it was the rum, who knew?

“So, no mean-girls episode with a racquet,” he said. “Then what?”

Apparently, Adam wasn’t going to let this go. Deciding on a sip of water, I let it cool my throat.

“I said no to the Ivy League, and here I am, working as a bartender.”

“That’s it? Say it ain’t so.”

“It is. My dad graduated from the finest university in Boston, and all those buildings he endowed were for nothing when I told them I didn’t want any part of their grand plan. They said they wanted me to go to school, play tennis, and get a degree, but what they really wanted was for me to meet a guy who had a matching trust fund, get married, and have babies.”

“Wow. Did they blame this on your curves too?”

I swallowed, trying to figure out how to answer.

“Shit. I’m sorry. That was wrong of me to say,” he said, setting his fork down.

“No, you’re mostly right. There was a lot of animosity. My dad blamed my mom for not being present enough in my life as I was growing up, and my mom blamed my dad for working too much. He said I ate too much junk food and drank too much milk with hormones, while spending too much time with nannies. She said I vied for his attention by acting out. You name it, and they said it.”

Staring at my plate, I continued.

“Truth was, they had—have—a terrible marriage, and I didn’t want that kind of life. Uppity degrees, society leagues, galas, money that comes with strings doesn’t make a person happy. When I turned down an offer to play tennis and get an Ivy League education, my parents took away everything of mine. In the end, it was for the best.”

“Well, it’s not like you didn’t become something. You’re practically running this island.”

I scoffed at that. “I don’t want to run anything or be in charge of anything. I want to be free of the expectations that come when you hold power. There’s always someone more powerful over you and less powerful under. I have enough of that being a senior bartender.”

Adam nodded thoughtfully, as if he were trying to understand. “And you haven’t talked to your parents since you left.”

“Bingo.”

He tossed back his drink. “We need another round to toast your success, whether you want to or not, and your curves. And for me to say how foolish your mom and dad are for letting this happen.”

“Wait,” I said, but he was already motioning to Shell.

“One more round,” he told her. “And some more slaw.”

Shell nodded. “Of course. I’m on it.”

When we were alone again, I frowned at Adam. “I’m a bartender. I’d hardly call that success.”

He raised a brow. “Really? How much money did you show up on this island with?”

I had to think about that one for a second. “I don’t know, maybe fifty bucks after I bought my plane ticket and paid for a taxi to the hotel. I had to beg the hotel to let me pay back rent on the first month.”

---