“Couldn’t get enough of you, eh, Andy?”
I tilt my lips up. “Not exactly. She’s the assigned project manager of the company that’s overseeing the grand reopening.”
“You’re fucking with me.” Jami’s mouth is hanging open. “How the hell did that happen?”
I chuckle and take a sip of my drink, letting the whiskey burn long and hard before I attempt another word. “Silver. Set up the whole thing without Hope or me knowing a damn thing. I guess it was her way of playing matchmaker.”
Jami tosses his head back and laughs. “Typical Silver. Always trying to fix everyone.”
“She was a blessing coming to our family the way she did.”
Jami nods, and I can tell how wholehearted it is. “It’s nice having her so close now. We’ve met up for lunch a few times, and I’ve been able to catch up on her wild life.”
Jealousy chews away at my heart. While Jami gets to have casual lunches with our sister, I’m sitting in our old spot at the cafeteria alone. I try to brush it off, knowing none of my negative thoughts will get me anywhere. “Anyway, I think you know Hope’s boss.”
“Who’s that?”
“Dexter Van Clark.”
Jami nearly spits out his drink. “Urgency’s owner and COO? That Dexter Van Clark?”
I nod, deciding very carefully what I want to tell Jami next. “That’s the one.”
“He’s been wining and dining me for years, trying to get our business. Small world, I guess.”
“Very small. Well, if it’s worth anything, the guy’s the most disrespectful prick I’ve ever met. Hope thinks he only took me on as a client to get to you.”
Jami’s face twists with concern. “Sounds about right. The dude is on a power trip, if I ever saw one. Greedy little fuck, but my clients and I see right through him.”
His words only affirm what I already knew. It takes everything to taper my anger while Jami continues.
“We let him schmooze us because he’s a potential client of ours, but don’t worry, he’ll never get close to my clients.”
It feels like a weight is being lifted off my shoulders. If anything, Jami’s promise just means one less tie to Dexter when Hope is finally free from his clutches. I decide not to give Jami any more details and slide my tumbler over to him for a refill.
“What about you? Are you seeing anyone?”
He pauses for a second before shaking his head. “Nah. Nothing worth holding on to anyway.”
I examine the sullen look on his face and reel back slightly. “That surprises me. You’re thirty-one. I thought for sure you’d be married with three kids by now.”
He chuckles. “Me? What about you, old man?” He lifts his brows, a twinkle in his eyes. “Thirty-six, huh? Better get your walking stick ready.”
I knock my arm into his chest, making him reel back slightly.
“Ouch. I didn’t realize you were so sensitive about your age.”
“At least I have a woman. What are you going to do? Stay single forever?”
Jami’s playful demeanor dies almost instantly. “Sometimes I think I might.”
“What?” I balk. “You’re telling me Jami ‘the Casanova’ Bexley wants to grow up old and alone?”
He winces. “I’m saying… dating in Seattle is different. I don’t know. Once upon a time, everything felt so much easier here.”
A laugh bursts from my chest. “Like when?” I’m baffled by his suggestion that we’ve ever had it easy here. We grew up on a small island. Our pickings weren’t exactly plentiful back in the day.
“Like always. We were the kings of this place. Remember?”
I almost forgot how cocky Jami could be. I sigh while forcing myself to conjure up some memories that echo what he’s saying. “Maybe we were the kings, but I sure as hell didn’t date the way you did.”
Jami rolls his eyes. “Yeah, because you were never looking. You were always so focused on pleasing Dad and obsessing over this camp.”
“You have that all wrong, Jami. Yeah, I was obsessed, but I thought we were all obsessed. I felt like it was my duty as the oldest to learn from Dad so that this place could be ours when he finally retired. The last thing I ever imagined was you three bouncing the moment things got rough.”
Jami rolls his head back and sighs. “I swear, you had some kind of blinders on when it came to this place and Dad. We were all in hell, Andy. And if Dad hadn’t turned into a worse prick than he was before Ty died, then maybe—just maybe—it would have been bearable. I stuck around long enough to know that nothing was changing. So I left. You should have done the same.”
I throw up my hands. “And what would have happened to this place? Our home.”
Jami shrugs. “Let it rot, for all I care.”
“You don’t mean that.”
Jami’s next laugh is almost sinister, like he really doesn’t care. Like everything I’ve been working toward has been a complete fucking waste of my life.
“Look,” Jami says, “what you’ve done with this place is incredible, brother. I mean that. But it’s not my home anymore.” He meets my gaze with what feels like a final nail in my coffin. “And it never will be again.”
Chapter Twenty-One
HOPE
It’s lunchtime when I decide to leave the office and search for Anderson. His phone is off, and I saw his brother roaming around outside the office window earlier, so I assume Anderson’s making his way around camp per usual. But when I check all the obvious places only to come up empty, I head back to where I last saw him.
I reach the paved driveway of the three-story blue house that overlooks the water and smile as a wave of nostalgia hits. This is the first time since being back that I’ve taken a good look at the house during the day. It’s tucked away from the main areas of camp so that stepping into the private residence feels almost intimate.
Back when Silver worked here, she would drag me to the blue house for hangouts with Anderson. I would always get giddy knowing that Anderson was just beyond the front doors. I looked forward to every surprising moment our eyes would meet then linger just enough to unleash the butterflies under my ribcage. Or the accidental touches when he would brush by me to make Silver and I another drink. And his laugh… Anderson rarely smiled and laughed at work, but during our secret hangouts, a different side of him came out. A playful side, a softer side. A side I quickly fell in love with.
Anderson’s boots sit outside the door, telling me I’m on the right track. So I push open the unlocked door and make my way upstairs to the master bedroom where we slept last night. He’s right there, curled up into his pillow asleep, with his mouth slightly parted. I scoot closer and wrap my arm around him from behind, soaking up his warmth like he’s my personal furnace.
My heart squeezes, wondering if the talk with Jami didn’t go so well. Anderson never naps during the day. Wanting to comfort him, I slip between the sheets.
“Hmm,” he mumbles when he feels me move in beside him.
“I didn’t mean to wake you.”