Page 93 of A Fool's Game
Ainsley’s introducing them to Taylor, but he turns when I come up from behind. “And this is the lovely Gemma. Gem, this is Avery and Fran.”
I smile and offer my hand, which Avery takes and places a kiss on the back. Fran, the woman beside him, laughs and shoves him to the side, grasping my hand in her own.
“It’s so good to meet you.” She smiles up at me from under her wide brimmed hat.
She’s young. As young as Victoria, maybe younger. I force a smile and feel my eyes narrow as I wonder why these men are all partnered with women half their age. These are the men who raised Ainsley. The men he’s looked up to since the day he was born. They would be under my scrutiny in the best of circumstances, but this is a glaring red flag. I make a mental note to ask him—and my cards—about it later.
“Great to meet you, too. You’re Avery’s partner?”
“That’s right. Saddled with this one,” she tosses out lightly, slipping her arm around Avery, who somehow already lost his shirt.
“We brought take-out from the Chicken Shack,” Avery tells me, grinning in a way I can’t help but return.
After a few hours, all my reservations are forgotten.
Avery’s kind and soft spoken, unexpectedly so for a man who looks like a model. He listens to Ainsley’s stories withoutinterrupting. Asks thoughtful questions at appropriate moments. It’s easy to see that Ains loves talking to him. Where he was reserved and rehearsed with Ben at dinner last night, stories are flowing freely now. Stories about working in the kitchen, his classes, his dog. About how he and I met. About his new collection of tarot cards and everything he’s learning.
Fran, who’s becoming my new best friend, turns to me as Ains goes on about the weather in Seattle. “Tarot, huh? I've heard of it, but never really tried it.”
I smile at her interest. “I’ve been studying for years. Ever since I moved to Seattle, it’s gotten a bit more serious. My roommate owns a small bookshop that sells tarot and crystals and other witchy stuff. I worked there part-time during my undergrad, and she’s become my mentor.”
“Will you tell my fortune?” she asks.
“It’s less about telling fortune, and more about examining our options in life.”
She sits up and turns to face me, feet on the ground off the side of her chaise lounge. “I’d love to examine my options.”
After tarot spreads by the pool, Fran and Avery head off for naps. We promise to meet up in town for dinner later.
“Well those two are a happy change of pace from last night,” Taylor laughs as the elevator closes behind them.
Ainsley laughs as well. “Not a single person yelled or cried.”
Our own nap is long and leisurely, not exactly how I planned to spend two of my short hours in paradise, but entirely unavoidable after our late night and so much sun.
When we arrive at dinner, Avery and Fran are already there. I was nervously anticipating the two of them having invited Ben and Victoria to join us, so I’m grateful when it’s just us at the table.
Cell reception is better in town than at the resort, and Taylor spends the first half of dinner distracted by his phone.
“Sorry,” he says, pocketing it the third time I meet his eye when he has it out. “There’s an inspection coming up next week, and my dad’s getting the basement ready. Without me.” He adds the last few words under his breath, and I might be the only one who hears them.I know he’s feeling guilty about leaving town, but he deserved this time away. The family property should be a team effort, and it doesn’t always look that way from my point of view.
“They’ve got this,” I say encouragingly, taking his hand under the table.
“You’re doing some building?” Avery asks. I know he’s just trying to make polite conversation, but Taylor tenses.
“We’ve got a foundation rebuild coming up. Right after we secure the permit to do the work.” He meets my eye and smiles the sly, hopeful, Taylor smile that’s only for me. “Which we’ll be getting next week.”
“Permits can be a bitch,” Avery says, commiserating. “We had to do a ton of work on The Sands to get it up to par for opening and it took probably double the time it would have if we’d known how to play the game a little better.”
Taylor’s expression darkens. “There doesn’t seem to be a game on Bainbridge. Just the county permit office who needs to check boxes, and the homeowner’s association, who would vote people out after nearly sixty years of paying dues. My grandfather was on the founding board of that HOA, and yet somehow, our slightly tilting foundation is such an eyesore that they called the city on us.”
I glance at the glass in his hand just as he raises it to his lips, draining the amber liquid. Is this his second? Third?
I catch Ainsley’s gaze from his other side and nod toward the glass.
He picks up on my meaning right away. “Who’s ready for another course?”
More food does seem to help Taylor’s glowering mood, especially since the table is happy to let him choose all the dishes for us to share.
