Page 45 of The Forever Promise

“Yes, Your Highness.” Bryce arched an eyebrow.

I checked in with Noah; he was thrilled to be reunited with the puppy. He said he was glad he didn’t sleep in his room, though—the staff had to take him out to pee in the middle of the night. Bryce and I played with Boss, as instructed. The dog was adorable; after five minutes, I was baby-talking to him just like my brother. Even Bryce cracked a smile as he scratched him behind the ears.

Hadn’t I asked for a puppy because I’d been trying to spite my husband? Hmm, none of what I’d been planning had turned out like I’d expected…

It was time to head to the club. Bryce and I went and quickly changed; he complained the whole time, a string of colorfully strung together curse words. We headed back outside, and I hugged Noah goodbye—he didn’t want to come because he didn’t want to leave Boss. He planned to play with the dog and later, to fish off the private dock. My brother seemed genuinely happy and in good spirits. Accepting Bryce’s offer had been the right thing to do. Noah was happier than he’d been since our mother died.

As we rode our boat over to the club, the sun was warm on my face. I ignored the boats that trailed us, the photographers, and a team of Bryce’s security guards who were frowning at them. I focused on the gorgeous scenery. The water was calm, a magnificent blue; the green mountains of Acadia rose in the distance, and the clean, salty air whipped my hair.

I said a prayer that my mother could see us from heaven. I prayed that she knew that I was doing my best to care for Noah, that he was happy and thriving. And that he had a puppy—my mother would love that!I know this is all crazy,I thought,but I’m doing my best. Noah’s happy. That’s all that matters, right?

I prayed she agreed.

Jake, Colby, and Daphne chatted about her pregnancy. She seemed completely comfortable, as though it was the most normal thing in the world that she was pregnant with Michael Jones’s baby. Bryce was on his phone, working. I sat next to him, remembering the first time we’d visited Bryce’s club. It had been our first full day together, and we’d “paraded” around the bay in his yacht, waving to people he knew, before going to the club. Once we’d gotten there, Bryce had been very… hands-on. That day had been my introduction to his commanding touch. We’d sat on the dais by the pool, hanging all over each other while the other members watched us…

“We’re here.” Bryce’s voice woke me from my reverie. “Are you ready?” He reached for my hand and gently helped me onto the dock, and I marveled at the difference in our relationship. The first time we’d been to the club, he’d been an icy stranger. One that I was insanely attracted to, but still. Now he was so much more than that. Now he was my everything…

Contract, contract, contract, said the voice in my head.

Love, love, love,argued my heart.

I sighed, praying they’d both be quiet and vowed to enjoy the day.

TWENTY

the club

The security teamparked their boat, and several be-suited guards climbed out. They kept a respectful distance but were close enough to protect us. I didn’t want to imagine from what.

We headed up the ramp to the club, a chic, upscale pool area sprawled beneath an elegant outdoor dining room. It was exactly as I remembered—the pale-gray stone pool deck, the crystalline, aqua water. The affluent guests who lounged poolside were dressed like Daphne in flowing caftans and designer sunglasses. The restaurant patrons dressed up for each other, the women in elegant dresses and the men in suits. The martinis and flutes of champagne were already flowing.

A hush fell over the club as the five of us reached the entrance, followed by the guards. Did I imagine it, or were the other guests staring and whispering? I noticed the Mayweathers, Bryce’s friends, but they didn’t make eye contact with us. Unlike the restaurant the night before, there were no warm welcomes, no friendly waves.

“What’s the deal?” Daphne smiled at a few people she knew, but no one returned her overtures. Her expression became pinched. “We better not get kicked out of here—and they better not cancel our freaking membership. There isn’t even a waiting list. You can’t get back in, even if you’re reincarnated as royalty!”

“They’re not going to cancel us, Daphne,” Colby assured her. “Dad’s been a member here for years. He paid for the tennis courts, for Christ’s sake! We have a membership into perpetuity.”

Serge, the head server, immediately joined us. He wore an impeccable tan linen suit and an intense expression on his face. “Mr. Windsor, we’re honored that you’ve joined us again so soon.”

“It’s always a pleasure, Serge.” Bryce nodded to him. “I see that our spot’s available. Thank you for always accommodating us.”

“I’m happy to be of service, Sir.” But Serge grimaced and wrung his hands. He looked past Bryce to the guards, who had fanned out and were inspecting the premises. “Your assistantdidbook you on the pool dais, but is it possible your party would be more comfortable in one of ourprivateoutdoor spaces? They’re away from the hustle and bustle of the over guests.”

Bryce peered past him at the other members who were pretending not to watch us. “Are you asking us to stay segregated from the general population?”

“Not at all, Sir,” Serge said quickly. “Management thought you might be comfortable with more…privacy…given recent events.” There was a thin bead of sweat on Serge’s upper lip. He didn’t appear happy to be delivering Management’s news.

“Please tellManagementthat I’d like to speak with them immediately, as innow. I’ll wait.” Bryce crossed his arms against his massive chest.

“Of course, Mr. Windsor. Just one moment.” Serge fled.

“What’s going on?” Jake asked Bryce, careful to keep his voice quiet. “I feel like we’re pool pariahs. Why is everyone staring at us like that?”

Bryce shrugged. “They probably don’t want the press sniffing around this place. There’s a no cellphone rule at the club, remember? These old dogs want to keep their names and faces out of the news.”

At that moment, Michael and Mimi Jones emerged from inside the restaurant. Upon seeing us, Michael Jones’s shoulders slumped. He looked anywhere but at Daphne, who pouted and stuck her chest out in his direction. Mimi Jones, however, stared directly at our party. She looked like she wanted to claw Daphne’s eyes out and then spit in the sockets.

Oh boy.

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