He wrapped his arm around her again, pulling her close and kissing the top of her head. Into her hair he said, “Thank you, baby girl."
“I’m not so sure I’m ready to forgive the other two, though.”
“This is my apology. They are on the hook for their own,” he said, smiling a little. “Now, not to rub salt or anything, but I know I am not the only one who hurt you today, and if I were a betting man, I would wager that the pain I caused is nothing compared to what happened after you left the kitchen.”
Drea let out a sob, and crumpled into her uncle's arms. Part of her felt so stupid, crying to him like she was a little kid who fell off her bike. But at the same time, it was incredibly comforting to have him here.
“It’s okay, baby girl, let it out. Let it out…”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Grayson’s apology had come the next morning, by way of Leona. Miller had told her before he left her on the beach the evening before that he would send meals over so that she could do her own thing and take as long as she needed. He’d seen her sulk enough as a moody teenager to know exactly what she needed, and was more than prepared with the skills and ingredients to help her eat her feelings.
Dinner had shown up just as the sun was starting to set, hand delivered by Dalton, who also happened to be carrying a handle of rum, another of tequila, and two short tumbler glasses he’d obviously commandeered from the dining room. He didn’t speak at all as he laid out the food on the little table on her porch, and he continued to let them eat in silence. It wasn’t until after they had food in them that he’d grabbed the two handles, held up each one, and finally asked, “A or B?” She’d opted for the tequila, and they’d spent the night in silence, every now and again taking a shot.
The next morning, complete with what her Uncle Gray would have referred to as “a dehydration headache” rather than a hangover, she found Leona in her kitchen with a basket of magic muffins and Grayson’s go-to hangover cure—a bottle of Coke.
“He also gave me this,” Leona said, handing her a laminated five by seven piece of cardstock.
Drea took it from her best friend and looked at it. She recognized it immediately and couldn’t help but laugh out loud. It was bright yellow and had a winged version of Mr. Monopoly in his tuxedo flying out of an open birdcage on it, reading “Get out of jail free.” She’d given him the actual card from the family’s set of the board game when she was thirteen and had accidentally ripped a sail on one of the boats, hoping that it would buy her some grace with her uncle. He, too, had laughed when she gave it to him, and told her that it was an acceptable use of the card, and to expect that someday he would return the gesture. She flipped over the card and found his handwriting on the back.
My turn to cash in? Groveling and begging shall commence once coupon is accepted.
-G
Drea sighed and shook her head. Sometimes it was really difficult having family members who could charm the pants off anyone. Just like Miller’s apology yesterday, it did little to temper her anger at this moment, but overall it softened her resolve. He wasn’t really the one she was incensed with. Was she mad that he kept the secret? Yes. But he’d never been the type to stick himself into other people’s business, so she knew that if Miller had said he told her, Grayson would have trusted that and let it drop. He’d also come to her and Kyle’s defense. That had to count for something.
Over the next few days, Vaughn had tried to seek her out a number of different times. Each time she either zagged when he zigged or she flat-out excused herself from the conversation. She had no desire to cause a scene in front of guests, so she kept herself as scarce as possible if she knew he’d be around. Other than Friday morning, when they met with the lawyer to officially add Simone as the fifth owner to the resort paperwork, and the same evening at the rehearsal, Drea had managed to only have to be in his company a couple of times since that breakfast. Simone had told her that if she didn’t feel comfortable being her maid of honor because of what happened, she’d understand. Drea had considered the offer, but she knew how much it meant to Simone to have her in that role, so she opted to stay.
“I just don’t make any promises to be entirely nice to the groom,” Drea told her.
“I think that’s perfectly acceptable,” Simone had responded.
The whole resort was abuzz with wedding prep come Saturday morning, on top of all the normal weekend chaos. Everyone around her was smiling and laughing, so excited for the happy couple, but it was really all she could do not to act like a zombie. Having been in the guest service industry her entire life, she could fake a smile like no one else, but today it was draining her faster than she thought she could ever replenish.
The nail salon on site was quiet, other than the sound of the faucet dripping in the little sink not far from the pedicure chairs. It wasn’t quite the water feature Drea had in mind, and was actually starting to annoy her. With Simone to her right and Leona to her left, along with Simone’s mom, sister, and aunts over at the manicure tables, Drea knew she should be a lot more relaxed than she was.
Her tears seemed to have dried up yesterday afternoon, although that might just be from sheer dehydration. Because she certainly still felt like crying. Every time she thought about how just a week ago they’d been exploring the streets of Old San Juan, she wanted to curl up in a little ball and die. In her mind, that day seemed like yesterday and forever ago, all at the same time.
Kyle’s words still rang out in her head. Have a good life. How could he be so cold? He’d been so sweet and loving just a couple of hours earlier in the shower. Had she known that would be the last time they were together, she would have made the moment last. She certainly wouldn’t have rushed them to get dressed when she saw what time it was, or told him that he was a bad influence on her punctuality. Thinking back on it, she hated herself for saying that and wished like hell she could take it back.
“So, how exciting will it be to have a proper spa? I think we definitely need to take that trip to Bora Bora now to check out the Thalasso,” Simone said, cutting into Drea’s internal pity party.
“Um, yeah,” Drea agreed, half-heartedly.
“A spa?” Leona asked. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Oh, um, I guess I didn’t realize it was a go,” Drea answered.
“Vaughn told me the other night that if that’s what you want—to create and manage a spa at the Indigo Royal—that he’s absolutely in support of that.”
“I’m sure he is,” Drea said sarcastically. “Trying to buy my affections.”
“There are worse ways to do it than a spa,” Leona muttered.
Tears pricked her eyes and started to fall before she ever realized what was happening. She sniffed loudly and wiped away at them, trying to collect herself, but it was no use. Thinking about the spa—creating it, running it, and building it into the mini empire she’d dreamed it could be—would never not be tied to Kyle now. She’d been so self-conscious in telling him as they were sitting sharing secrets in the sun, but not only did he not laugh, he encouraged her. She pictured him in there with her, picking her up after work or the two of them sneaking off into one of the treatment rooms for some alone t
ime. But now it all just seemed so hollow, like his ghost would forever haunt something that had been her dream.
