I could kick myself for watching their expressions and trying to read between the lines because I don’t care—yet, I recognize the annoyance that flashes across Chloe’s face and the nervous energy from Vanessa.
“It’s going to be an epic year,” Vanessa continues. “And this is the perfect way to kick it off.” She sits back in her seat as I return my focus to the road to keep myself from comparing the sisters.
My thoughts move to Cooper and how he’d reacted when he’d heard about my micro kiss with Chloe. He’d been ready to go fisticuffs with me, and that was when I learned not only was my friend a possessive wanker, but he liked one of the sisters. I’m pretty sure like is an understatement considering he chose Brighton over a handful of more prestigious schools because this is where Vanessa is going. He works his arse off and loves football, but he doesn’t live for it, and he doesn’t feel like a piece of him dies when we have a bad game. No, Cooper’s smart and ambitious and wants to start his own programming company and stay in Seattle, far from the hot and humid summers of Florida.
Cooper avoided me for a full week after confronting me about the kiss and then was defensive and cagey when he finally demanded to know what had happened. Relief practically poured out of him when I told him I’d kissed Chloe—not Vanessa.
We drive mostly in silence until Chloe and Vanessa both fall asleep.
“What do you think we should do tonight?” Cooper asks.
I shake my head, my thoughts converging on what information I need to focus on once we arrive and how the meeting I’ve ordered will go. Are they going to stare at me like some uppity little shit who had everything served on a silver platter? Will they try to work with me? My thoughts have been so consumed with the hotel that I haven’t given a second of thought to what we’ll do in The Big Easy.
“It sounds like your tour guides already have everything planned out. Desserts and coffee, didn’t you hear?”
Coop sniggers. “Come on, man. We’re going to be in New Orleans—we have to do something fun.”
“Does that translate to getting Vanessa drunk enough that she might end up in your room tonight?”
Cooper’s gaze flashes to the backseat, and then to me, a warning clear in his eyes, worried she overheard.
I chuckle. Guy’s got it bad. “What do you want to do?”
“I don’t know. What do people do in New Orleans?”
“Now I’m the tour guide?”
His lips thin with annoyance, but his gaze turns desperate.
“We’re staying in the Garden District, so we’ll be a short ride to the French District where there’ll be all kinds of tourist shit. We can go down Bourbon Street tonight, and if the girls like to dress up and go clubbing, there’s a masquerade club that’s big with the tourists.” Because a simple mask that barely covers one’s forehead and nose somehow manages to conceal all inhibitions. “Drinks, beads, dancing.”
“You can get us in?”
I glance at him, surprised he’s asking until I remember how few and far between Cooper’s requests go. It’s one of the reasons I trust him and why our friendship has become a brotherhood—he doesn’t ask for things and expects even less. I reach for my phone and hit a couple of buttons to reach Anika, our family’s primary contact for social events, travel, and nearly anything that’s requested of her.
“Mr. Banks,” she answers on the second ring. “What can I do for you, sir?”
“Anika, I need four VIP passes to Façade for tomorrow night.”
I hear her typing in the background. “No problem. I’ll contact them and send directions and contact info to your phone. As a reminder, your meeting tomorrow is at nine A.M. sharp.” Anika has been with my family my entire life, yet our interactions are always borderline sterile. She doesn’t know me any better than I know her.
“Great. Thank you. Also, did you hear back from San Diego?”
“Not yet, but, I’ll be calling them again this afternoon.”
I swallow my reply. My father’s not the only one who has doubts regarding my ability to lead and be the next CEO of Banks Resorts. Many appear to be working against my efforts, ignoring my calls and emails, and failing to accept meeting requests. I can’t tell my father this, and they know it, and therefore I’ve been stuck playing a game of cat and mouse where half the time I’m left feeling like the fucking mouse chasing the bastard cat.
“Thanks, Anika,” I say and hang up.
“It was that easy?” Cooper asks.
I nod, though the question feels loaded—or maybe it’s the answer because few things are that easy, specifically when it comes to my role with the family business or even Anika.
Cooper leans back in his seat, taking an audible breath.
“You okay?” I ask.
He nods, his gaze flicking to the back seat again, making his thoughts apparent. I don’t delve into them or try to understand—I already know I won’t. The very last thing I have time for is a relationship and even less time for the idea of chasing a girl whose feelings are unknown. “Just tired.”
“Take a nap. We’ve got four hours until we get there.”
“You sure?”
I nod. “Positive. We’ll have to stop before we get there to charge the car, but we’re basically following the coastline, so you’ll see more of this.” I point out the window as signs invite us to exit for Panama City Beach. “Recline your seat, and take a nap.”
Cooper plays with the controls and settles into his seat. I’m relieved. I don’t want to analyze his relationship with Vanessa or make more plans for the trip. I have enough to focus on with New Orleans.
3
Chloe
I open my eyes and realize we’ve come to a stop.
I don’t remember falling asleep. The car is nearly silent, creating the perfect setting for an afternoon nap.
I sit up, looking over at Nessie to see she’s still lost to dreamland, and ahead of her, Cooper is asleep as well. Tyler’s outside, leaning against the hood of the car, hovering over his phone.
My legs feel cramped, itching with the desire to move, and I wish we’d taken Dad up on his suggestion to bring a cooler because I’m thirsty and hungry.
I look around, hoping I can ascertain where we’re at and how much farther we have until we hit New Orleans. Outside my window is a wall of Annabelle hydrangeas, the kind our grandma grows that have the giant white, cone-shaped blooms. Behind them is the main road where a billboard towers, touting “Mobile, Home of the Best Flea Market in Alabama.”
I’ve never been to Mobile, but when it was Nessie, Meredith, and I planning this trip across the country, we’d discussed stopping here after seeing pictures of their white sandy beaches and abundance of seafood restaurants. The memory has me bending down to look out the other windows, hoping I’ll catch sight of the coast. But the more I move, the stiffer my muscles feel, and the more I regret having my fourth cup of coffee this morning.
I debate waking Vanessa up so she can go with me but decide against it as she hums in her sleep. I know she’s exhausted. Mom and I had lain across her bed, talking about our road trip and this next year while Nessie finally started to pack. I woke up in her bed this morning, and she was already awake, trying to finish getting her things together.