Page 33 of Waiting For A Girl Like You
Vivian was also slightly taken aback. Toby might not be the spitting image of his father, but Charlie was there in the boy’s features.
“Toby.”
“I like that name.” Delicately, Vivian touched Toby’s shoulder. “And I like your hair too. Does it always curl like this when it’s about to rain?”
Toby nodded earnestly, completely under Vivian’s spell. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Your father’s hair does the same thing. I used to say he was my own personal weather station. We could always tell if it was going to be a rainy day by Charlie’s hair.” She ran her fingers through the tips of his curls. “Why are you crying down here?”
“Samuel’s mean.”
“Hmm, yes. He’s like his father, so that’s no surprise.”
Toby giggled, obviously thinking he’d found a friend.
“Toby,” Josie interrupted. “Go back upstairs. Vivian and I will be along in a minute. We’ll get you some supplies to take a shower, and we need everyone together to make our list.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Toby wiggled up from the ground to stand next to Vivian. “It was nice meeting you,” he said before scampering off for the stairs.
“He’s very polite,” Viv remarked, watching him go. “I’m assuming SiSi had something to do with that.”
“She practically raised them,” Josie replied, wanting to make this easier, but there wasn’t a way. Betrayal and pain were the foundations of tonight. “The youngest is named Cecilia, and we call her CeCe.”
“Is she upstairs?”
“She is.” Josie grabbed Vivian’s arm when she tried to take off again. “Don’t you need a minute to, like, I don’t know, process all this?”
Vivian exhaled a humorless laugh. “Josie, it’s going to take me a lifetime to process all of this, and I don’t think we have time for that tonight.”
Chapter 8
“More lip liner.” Liam rummaged through the makeup selections laid out on the vanity in front of her. “And apply it thick.”
“Are you going to tell me what we’re doing?” She wrinkled her nose when he picked a brownish shade and handed it to her. “You said to wear hot pink lipstick. This so does not go with hot pink lipstick.”
He didn’t answer, too busy looking for something on his phone. “Can you make your eyeliner go way out? Like way, way out?” Turning his phone around, he showed her a picture of a woman with exaggerated makeup and black wingtips. “Something like that?”
“And why would I want to?”
“Wait, scratch that.” He disappeared into the walk-in closet. “Just pack the makeup. You can put it on when we’re on the boat.”
She turned on her stool to glare at him. “Why am I wearing makeup on a boat?”
“Because I need you to seduce a man.”
“William, I love you, but you better start talking.”
He reappeared shirtless, ruffled, and almost annoyingly perfect. His tousled hair gave him a boyish look, yet there was a hint of recklessness layered underneath. Her fingers itched to touch him, but she reminded herself to focus.
“Toby planned to take Evie using a small boat he’d beached near the mill ruins. Sinclair planned to do the same with you. The women came here the same way.”
They had found the boats. Large inflatable rafts were left on the shore near the mill ruins, beached where the manchineel trees grow. As far as she knew, there hadn’t been much evidence or clues left behind on them.
“Okay?” she said, begrudgingly tearing her gaze from his chest. “What does that mean?”
“Where did they launch from?” he asked, stepping out of his pants to stand in his boxer briefs. “Not a marina. Sinclair could have slipped by and not drawn attention, but a bunch of women in white taking off in the dead of night? That sure as hell would have alerted a harbor master.”
