Page 115 of The Version You Hide

She aims a devious grin at me in response, then I follow her as she struts over to the side of the house where my surfboards lean up against the external wall. “I’m gonna school you in the waves first.”

“Oh, are you now?” I rasp as I pin her against the wall, my eyes trailing downward over her red bikini, appreciating the way it covers just the right amount of skin.

“Yep,” she replies, her voice a whisper.

“You’re on.” I crush my mouth to hers as her hands lace around my neck and she allows her body to sag against the wall as she kisses me back.

The moment I attempt to wrap my arm around her, she slides out from under me, swiftly grabbing one of the boards and hoisting it up underneath her arm, her laughter carrying on the wind as she runs toward the surf.

My feet remain firmly planted on the sand as I drink her in, the woman I’m slowly but surely falling for, and all the things that make her her. The things she doesn’t let anybody else see.

She glances back over her shoulder at me, her wild, blonde hair bouncing around her in long wavy ribbons, a smile that could light up the darkest night.

There she is.

There’s the real Mackenzie Riley.

Chapter 35

DYLAN

I stroll into my temporary office on the fifteenth floor of Abbott Corp at exactly five minutes before I’m required to. I already feel claustrophobic in this suit and tie. It’s hard to believe I used to wear one every day. It’s amazing how easily I’ve become accustomed to beachwear and bare feet.

I nod at Claire as I pull out the heavy chair and lower my coffee cup to the surface of the mahogany desk. She’s on fire this morning, already in full business mode at seven fifty-five, her facial expression signalling that she’s most likely dealing with a less than co-operative client. Her voice doesn’t waver as she retaliates to his demands in a seamlessly professional manner.

Once again, I find myself feeling as though I’ve been rendered useless. Much to my father’s dismay I’m sure, there were no paparazzi awaiting my entrance to the building this morning.

After what had gone down last week, I had seriously contemplated not bothering to show today. The only reason I’ve agreed to work, and I use the term ‘work’ lightly, is because I’d promised Claire drinks this afternoon. No matter what kind of hell my father is intent on putting me through, it will be worth it to see her shine. She’s going to do big things for this company. I can see it now.

There’s a manilla folder containing a stack of documents on the desk in front of me, so I decide to busy myself with that while I wait for Claire’s instruction. I flip it open, sifting casually through the paperwork when my eyes catch on familiar words. I take another sip of my coffee and freeze when I realise what I’m reading.

This is a real estate contract. For the sale of 31 Palmwood Drive, Seabright Cove. Highlighted in parentheses are two words that turn my blood cold.

“The Elmwood.”

The coffee cup falls from my grip, sloshing onto the carpet and up one of my trouser legs. I feel physically ill as I rise to my feet. Claire’s voice comes into focus as she wraps up her conversation.

“Okay, Charles. Look into that for me and we can reconvene at the end of next week.” Her phone slams down on the desk. “Ugh. Seriously that guy can be so difficult to work with.” I look up at her as she pinches the bridge of her nose, then flips her hair over her shoulder. It’s a moment before she glances in my direction, no doubt seeing the colour drain from my face. “What’s up with you?”

“What is this, Claire?”

“What’s what?” she replies, walking toward the desk.

There’s a deep crease between her perfectly tinted eyebrows as she slides the manilla folder closer.

“Oh. Dad left this here for us to deal with today. He secured a location for the new boutique hotel. I’m actually really excited about this one. I think it will be a great business move.” When I don’t reply, she looks up at me again, seeing the hurt in my expression. “Seriously, are you okay?”

“The Elmwood building, Claire? Really?”

“What?” She flips open the folder and her face falls as she scans the top page document. “Oh, Dylan. I had no idea. I promise. This is all Dad’s doing.”

“Grace is going to be devastated. That studio is her whole life.” My nostrils flare in defiance as I saunter to the window, looking out at the traffic below, the pedestrians tiny like ants. “We have to get him to back out. Find somewhere else.”

“Find somewhere else for what?” My father’s voice jolts me. I swivel around to find him standing in the doorway, his hands tucked casually into the pockets of his suit pants.

“Why would you do this, Dad?” I snatch the folder from Claire’s grip and shake it in frustration. “Is this your way of punishing me because you don’t like my life choices.”

“You’re being paranoid, Dylan.” My father scoffs. “This is simply business. The Elmwood will be a fantastic location. We have big plans for it.”

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