I kept coming back to that because we hadn’t said those words, either. We hadn’t made any promises. We’d given in to a moment’s temptation and… What?
I tried to believe Eddie was right, that Shane would come around, but I bumped into Sandy in the lobby, waiting for the elevator. She looked frazzled.
“Oh, Fox. I finally got the laundry on, but I needed more quarters.” She showed me the rolled coins, expression shifting from a reflexive smile of warmth to something less certain.
“Shane in a mood to talk yet?” I asked.
“No, but listen.” She touched my arm. “Ed and I have talked. You’ll get your fair share. We have enough equity in the house we can mortgage it so Shane can buy you out. Eddie and I will come out of retirement and help him manage things. Ed ran his own business all those years. He knows what it takes. This looks like a disaster, but it’s just a bump in the road.”
It was surgery without anesthetic. Were they insane, risking their retirement savings on a business that was still only a few years old? It was in a growth stage, reliant on website visits and online sales, not on quoting a job and showing up to do the work. It was headed by a man they never said ‘no’ to.
“We’ll talk more when we’re back in Oz.” Sandy gave my arm a final squeeze and offered a weak smile. “Things will work out one way or another. They always do.”
“Sure.” I let her take the elevator that arrived and said I was going for a swim, but I was reeling from the message the Holloways were pulling together and I wasn’t one of them. Not anymore.
I went to the beach and threw myself into the surf so I could blame the salt for the sting in my eyes.
ASHLEY
Igave Izzy my cocktail vouchers for the pool bar and left her browsing bathing suits in the gift shop.
“I want to catch up with Fox,” I said, “But come for dinner tonight at the villa.”
“Love to. Can I bring anything besides my winning personality?”
“A bottomless enthusiasm for Go Fish. Ryan’s always looking for a fresh mark.”
“What are the stakes? Jelly beans? Should I stock up?”
“Defin— Oh!” I noticed Fox had messaged me through one of my social media accounts.
My phone is in your suite. Heading to my room now. Call me there when you get this.
“Well, that explains— I gotta go!” I hurried out of the shop and found a lobby phone only to see Fox come from where the business center was located.
When I was a kid, I used to pump so hard on the swings the ropes would go slack. That’s exactly how I felt as I glimpsed him. Like I was suspended in mid-air at the very zenith of joy.
He wore a salmon-colored T-shirt with three buttons at the collar. It wasn’t even tight, but hugged his wide shoulders andthe sleeve cuffs accentuated his muscled biceps. His low-slung cargo shorts did the same for his legs and butt, hanging off his frame so beautifully, he was like a catwalk model. He ambled toward the elevators with an absent confidence that made heat swirl in my middle.
“Fox!” I called, voice wobbling like I had a case of Victorian vapors. I clapped the lobby phone back into its cradle and hurried after him.
“Hey,” he said in greeting, brows pulling together with consternation. He didn’t return my tentative smile.
A thick, invisible wall had come up between us. It was like a block of gelatin that condensed into a more solid, stickier, airless mass the closer I got to him.
He might look mouthwatering on the outside, but his eyes held the same wariness and weariness I’d seen when I’d picked him up from the airport a few days ago. He was showered and freshly shaved, but his cheeks were hollow.
Something in me sank so hard and fast, my knees grew soft and my head light.
“I didn’t realize your phone was upstairs. I went for lunch with Izzy at the golf club. I’m really sorry.” Really, really sorry. Sick with it, now that I could see there didn’t seem to be anything but a few shreds of cordiality left between us.
He waved me to enter the elevator ahead of him. I used my card to take us up to my floor.
“Shane?” I asked apprehensively.
He shook his head.
“Fox—”