“Yes.”
“Want to join me instead? My private eating spot also comes with an unrestricted menu. Chef will make anything we want.”
“I don’t want to add to her load. She’s got her hands full feeding almost forty people.”
“Make it simple, then. Grilled cheese and chicken noodle soup.”
Preston ambled off and I fell in step with him without thinking about it.
“Chicken noodle? Most go for tomato soup with their grilled cheese.”
“I would,” he said, “if I wasn’t allergic.”
“You’re allergic to tomatoes? Seriously?”
“As serious as the hives. I can’t do most nightshades.”
“So you can’t have ketchup? Denied the simple pleasure with French fries, doused hot dogs, and a good eggplant parmesan.” I squeezed his shoulder. “I feel bad for all the mean stuff I’ve said to you now. You’ve suffered enough.”
Preston laughed. “Feel bad for the smashed nose too?”
“Ask me when Lilah stops glaring daggers at me.” We reached the stairs leading to the back terrace. “By the way, when do I get to see you in that tutu?”
“Ha ha,” he deadpanned. “It’s when that girl is backed into a corner that she really brings out the claws. Under different circumstances, we’d be a perfect match.”
“What’s going on with you two?”
“We’re having a disagreement about the terms of our arrangement. What’s going on with you, Nathan, and Carter?”
I hesitated. Preston had made it abundantly clear that he wanted in my bed. Plus, in his bed, the sea, the kitchen, and twice in the broom closet. Talking to him about my conflicting feelings over marrying Nathan wasn’t the best move. He’d likely be biased.
But on that note.
“Carter announced his intention to marry me to the world. Don’t you have something to say about that?”
“It’s what you have to say that matters.” Preston reached the sliding glass and held it open for me. “Carter doesn’t approve of his father’s business methods or even his father. He’d sooner march in protest with oil-drenched ducks than work for the company.
“But just because his father’s an asshole doesn’t mean he has to give up his life. At least Carter doesn’t see it that way. He wants to marry you for a bigger inheritance and I’ve got no room to talk. My reasons for marrying Delilah aren’t far off.”
We moved to the table nearest the fountain. A warm night relieved by the steady cool breeze traveling over the water. The waves sang a light, whispering music that calmed me. Ever the gentleman, Preston pulled out my chair.
If I did go on dates, this would be the start of a good one.
“So you’re marrying her for money,” I stated. “Why? I’m told you’re the richest guy here.”
“It’s complicated.”
I waited for more. None came.
“You don’t want to tell me. You don’t trust me.”
A faint smile crossed his lips. “I don’t know if I do or don’t, to be honest. Again my overwhelming urge to make that pussy sit up and beg is taking out my self-preservation instincts.”
I fought a smile. “You just say and do whatever you want, don’t you?”
He shrugged, arms out. “I don’t meet with a lot of consequences.”
I tapped my nose.
“Until you,” he corrected.
“I’m still confused. If you want to be with me so badly, why are you chill about your best friend making me wife number one?”
“It’s not like I can throw my ring in the race, Belle,” he said, growing serious. “You don’t want that even if I could. Sex is what you’d share with me, and Carter isn’t getting in the way of that. It’s up to you.”
It’s up to me.
Sleeping with Preston. Marrying Nathan. Dropping Carter in a deep, dark hole.
It’s my choice. In this impossible situation, this is where I have control.
The chef’s assistant stepped onto the terrace and took our orders. Two grilled cheeses and chicken noodle soup. The conversation changed as we waited and received our meals. Over bowls of hot soup and melty, gooey cheese, we talked about my making costumes for my school plays and his life in the academy.
“They randomly assigned new roommates every year,” he said. “My freshman roommate was a good guy. Clean. Quiet. Roommate number two was working on a way to break down those floating garbage barges in the ocean. He’d keep a tank full of trash in our room.”
“You’re kidding,” I cried.
“I’m all for saving the world, but our room smelled like moldy milk cartons and frustration for half the year.”
I laughed. “My local high school doesn’t seem so bad now. Honestly, I loved it. I got to stay the whole four years. Join clubs. Commit to things. You appreciate that when you move as much as we have.”
“Was it because of the cruise line?”
“Yes,” I said, parroting our lie. “My dad has hundreds of boats traveling out of almost every port in this county and some out of a few others. He likes to be hands-on. Keep an eye on everything.”
“I want to be the same. Visiting my galleries. Overseeing the acquisitions of new pieces. Discovering artists.” Preston lost his grin. “Depends on how much time I have outside of running the company.”
“The Desai Dynasty.”
“That’s the one.”
“I get the feeling you’re interested in only half of your legacy.”
Polishing off the rest of his sandwich delayed his reply. “We don’t get to be half of who we are,” he finally said. “Not in our world. If we want to hang on to the lives we have, one way or another, we shut up and take what our parents give us.”
I opened my mouth to disagree and then I thought of Carter marrying to hang on to his lifestyle. Nathan entering into a business arrangement to escape his grandfather. And me, staying on the island I swore I wouldn’t set foot on so I wouldn’t be stripped of everything.
What could I argue about? Preston painted the truest picture of our lives.
In our world, there is no real rebellion.
We always end up doing what we’re told.
“Let’s not go there,” I said. “Do you have a private living room as well as the private dining area?”
“Yeah.”
“I had watch Hot Fuzz on my list of things to do tonight.”
“Love that movie.”
I pushed back my chair. “Then you can join me. Promise to keep your hands to yourself?”
“Only if I have to.”
I grinned. “Maybe you do, maybe you don’t.”
His eyes bugged, then he shot out of the chair. I took off squealing.
Preston caught me in the hall and swallowed my laughs with a kiss that curled my toes.
I controlled little in my own life. But I could have this.
For one night, I could have Preston.
“I’VE HUNTED DOWN THE coolest decorations,” Kelli gushed. “Queen of Hearts without going too cheesy. Red roses for the centerpieces, of course, with black tablecloths and playing cards as name cards. What do you think?”