Chapters 22-24 Beautiful Mine

CHAPTER 22

Connor

The next few weeks are filled with texting and phone calls and not enough time seeing one another. I did spend the weekend with her in San Francisco, where I got to meet her boss and coworkers, see her small but homey condo, and go to her favorite places (this girl is in love with Philly cheesesteak). Last weekend, I flew her down. I took her on the zip line, which she loved, and we had dinner with my family. Corrine’s out of school now, so she was there too. They all love Whitney.

I think I love her too.

In fact, I’m pretty damn fucking sure I am crazy in love with that woman.

The best part, as Whitney says, is that now our goodbyes are temporary.

The worst part is I still can’t seem to officially commit to staying. Even though my family sees what’s happening with Whitney and think I ought to have some sort of answer, when they ask if I’ve made a decision, the words that come out of my mouth are still, “I don’t know.”

They’re frustrated with me.

I’m frustrated with me.

Even though I’ve made the decision in my head, and even though I’ve told Whitney I’m staying, when it comes time to tell my siblings and make it official, I can’t spit the words out.

It’s made my relationship with Rayce even more fun. He’s been in rare form the last few days. The fact that Rita Becker recently ran a column accusing him of having illicit affairs with multiple lower-level staff members didn’t help matters. She had neither names nor photos to back up her claims. It’s just more trash, clearly, but it pissed Rayce off anyway. Put all that together, and that means I’m still his favorite target.

Corrine and I have joked around that I need to keep a tranquilizer gun in my desk so I’ll be prepared the next time he comes barging into my office on the warpath.

I’m currently wrapping up a meeting with Lizzy and two of our managers. We’ve been discussing a couple upcoming, high-profile weddings that will be taking advantage of the full offerings here at the resort, and have things more or less under control. As we all clear out of the Event Planning Conference room, though, our Events Manager, Renee, asks if she can speak with me privately.

Lizzy gives me a questioning look—she’s Renee’s immediate supervisor, not me—but I don’t know what this is about either. As I shut the door and sit back down at the table, Renee starts fidgeting with the file folders in front of her. My curiosity is piqued even more. “What’s up?”

“There’s something I wanted to bring to your attention.” She takes a deep breath.

“All right.”

“It’s… maybe not my business, but…” She stops again, furrowing her brows. “Did you see the article about Mr. Rivers? About the, um, affairs?”

Oh, is that all this is about?

“Just gossip,” I say. “If Rita Becker doesn’t have anything good to report, she’ll just make stuff up.”

She nods slowly, still hesitant. “Well… I don’t know. I… saw something I thought you should be aware of.”

The skin on the back of my neck starts to crawl. “All right,” I say steadily.

“The other day I saw Mr. Rivers and one of my employees coming out of the Redwood Room. It wasn’t being used or scheduled for anything, so there was no reason for her to be in there. They…” she hesitates and my skin is crawling everywhere. “They kind of gave each other a look and she was straightening her skirt and they left in different directions.”

“What kind of look?” I ask, even though I don’t want to know.

“Well… I don’t know. I’m not accusing anybody of anything. I don’t know why they were in there.”

“I understand.”

“It just… seemed off. They did look at each other like… like maybe something was going on in there.”

I take a deep breath and sit back in my chair. “I see.”

“I’m not saying anything happened. I just… I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about it and then I saw that article in the Voice and I thought you should know.”

“Who was the employee?”

“Her name is Taylor Norell. She mainly does set up and such.”

“Did you ask her about it?”

“No. I didn’t know if I should.”

I take another deep breath. “All right. Thank you for telling me. Is there anything else I need to know?”

She hesitates.

God. What else?

“Well…” she begins. “You should know I overheard a couple people in the break room speculating about this. I didn’t believe it and put an end to things pretty quickly. I have zero patience for gossip. And I didn’t think he would do anything like that.”

“But now you’re not so sure?”

She gives me a pained, apologetic expression. “It’s not for me to say. I just wanted to tell you what I saw. Maybe it was just an innocent thing. It… doesn’t seem like the kind of thing Mr. Rivers would do. I have a lot of respect for him. For all of you. I really admire the way you’ve all kept this place running. Your parents would be proud.”

I give her a small smile at the compliment, but I’m feeling the weight of everything she’s just told me. “Thank you, Renee. Do you have anything else to tell me?”

She shakes her head. “No. And I don’t need to know anything more about this.” She holds her hands up. “I wanted to tell you and now I have. I’m not going to give it any more thought.”

I thank her again and head back to the administrative offices, my thoughts heavy and my blood running cold. Even though it didn’t exactly prove anything, I feel uneasy about what Renee saw. But Rayce wouldn’t do something like that. Would he?

I enter the offices not knowing what I’m going to do until I’m doing it. Rayce is sitting behind his desk, writing something on a small pad by his computer. I go in, shut the door behind me, and approach his desk.

When he stops writing and looks at me, I look at him more closely than I have in a while. The truth is, something has been different not just with our relationship but with Rayce. I don’t know what, and I don’t know why, but something is different.

I still don’t think he would do this, though.

“I have a question for you,” I say quietly. There’s no animosity in my voice (the way there so often is these days, if I’m honest with myself). Right now, I’m putting everything else aside. I have a real question, and I need a real answer. I think Rayce senses it, because he puts his pen down, knits his brows at me, and leans back in his chair.

“Okay,” he says. Also without animosity.

“That column of Rita Becker’s.”

His expression immediately goes hard. “Jesus, Connor. You should know better.”

“Are you having a relationship with a Taylor Norell?”

He freezes, holding my eyes. He looks uncomfortable.

“You shouldn’t listen to rumors.” He picks up his pen, then puts it back down. I’m still standing here, watching him. I don’t want to believe it, but I don’t like what Renee saw. And I don’t like how he’s acting. I don’t like that he didn’t really answer my question. I don’t like any of this.

Yet, I can’t see my brother doing something like this. I just can’t.

He sees me watching him and lets out an exasperated sigh. “Oh come on, Connor.” He turns back to his computer, mouse clicking.

Again, no denial. Heart pounding harder than I’d like, I say quietly, “Tell me it’s not true, and I’ll believe you.”

Rayce looks at me then. He just looks at me, and I think he’s going to admit it. God, he looks like he’s going to say, ‘Yes, I’m having an affair.’

But in a calm and sober voice he says, “It’s not true.” Then he gets up, and quietly leaves.

I’m left standing there, knowing the truth.

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Chapter 23

Whitney

I’ve been offered a promotion. My boss wants me to be manager over the San Francisco resettlement team. It would mean more responsibility, more money, and more benefits. I’d be working with the refugee families who come over intact, not the orphans like I do now, so it’d be easier to deal with emotionally, I think. There’d be less direct contact with the people we serve, so that might help too.

She told me to think about it and give her an answer next week. It’d be worth making a change and giving it a shot, if it weren’t for one thing.

This last month with Connor has been amazing. Whether we’re talking on the phone or spending time together in person, every interaction I have with him just makes me love him more. He hasn’t asked me to move to Swan Pointe, but if he gets to the point where he’s ready, I already know I want to. I’ve flirted with the idea of making a career change for a couple of years now, always feeling so torn and undecided.

Connor has tipped the scales.

Starting over with a new career would be intimidating and risky, but it has the potential to pay off if I can find a better fit for myself, and the risks would be worth it if I could be with Connor while I’m doing it. The long-distance thing is already getting more difficult. I haven’t wanted to pressure him about anything though. It’s only been four weeks and I think we need to take our time.

Well, I think Connor probably needs that anyway. I’m ready to take it to the next level right now. But I don’t want to push. I’m well aware of the fact that Connor’s going down a road he closed off to himself a long time ago.

For that reason, I don’t know how to approach talking to him about the promotion. If I’m going to be making a move within the next year (please, oh, please) I don’t think it’d be fair to my boss to accept the promotion now.

This week, we each took a long weekend because I’ve been wanting to go on an adventure with him. I didn’t care where. He brought me to Haida Gwaii, these beautiful islands off the western coast of British Columbia, where we’ve spent our first full day hiking through an ancient rainforest. I didn’t know rainforests existed this far north, though they look different than the ones on the equator. I must have taken fifty pictures of the trees alone. There are all these massive Sitka Spruce and Red Cedar that bring to mind the coastal Redwoods and giant Sequoias back home.

We’re having dinner at a casual restaurant with good food and a view of Skidegate Inlet. We’ve finished our main meal, but are enjoying some dessert, in no hurry to leave. As we eat the delicate cream-filled pastry with ice cream and fruit compote, we’re trying to decide what we’ll do tomorrow. We’ve narrowed it down to either kayaking or boating around the north side of the island, which is supposed to have all these glorious coves.

“Either is fine by me,” I say. “It’ll be fun either way.”

“Too bad we can’t do both,” Connor says.

I don’t think he’s used to having such a short amount of time to explore a place, but he’s being a good sport about it.

“Are you missing that wide-open calendar?” I tease.

He grins, lifts my hand, and plants a kiss on it. “I don’t miss anything when I’m with you.” I reward his sweet talking with a smile. “How about we just wake up tomorrow and see how we feel?”

“Sounds good to me.”

We polish off the rest of our dessert, then fall into a contented silence, watching the water.

I’m again thinking about the promotion offer, trying to decide how to bring it up and what to say. But the opportunity passes me by yet again, thanks to my procrastinating, and Connor gets us on a new topic. The topic itself makes me clean forget the promotion. He thinks his brother might be having an affair with one of their employees.

“What?” I ask, wide-eyed.

Connor nods. “I’m shocked, too. I wouldn’t have thought he’d do anything like this. And maybe he isn’t but… I think he is.” Connor fills me in on his conversation with his Events Manager, and says he’s not sure if he should get Lizzy in on things, or talk with the employee himself, or what he should do. Then he tells me about Rayce’s denial, but Connor doesn’t believe him.

Which leads to us talking about how strained their relationship still is. I knew it had been bad for several months. What surprises me is that it isn’t getting any better. I’d been under the impression that Rayce had been frustrated with Connor because he wasn’t making a decision about whether or not he’d continue at the resort.

“I don’t understand why Rayce is still being so short with you. Now that he knows you’re staying, doesn’t he feel better about things?”

“Uh.” Connor has an uncomfortable look on his face. “Well… I haven’t really made that official yet.”

I blink, not processing what he said. “What do you mean, official? The lawyer doesn’t know yet?”

He gives me an apologetic look. “No. Rayce and Lizzy don’t know yet.”

My eyebrows shoot up and my blood drops. “You haven’t told them?”

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I don’t know why I haven’t.”

“But…” I’m trying to keep my cool, but this has knocked me off kilter more than a bit. “You told me you did.”

“No, I absolutely did not,” he says, gentle but firm.

Even as he’s saying it, I realize he’s right. He didn’t say that. He told me he wanted to stay. I had only assumed he’d told his siblings the same thing.

“Why haven’t you told them?” It’s been a month. “Are you changing your mind?” My heart is pumping hard. God, my biggest fear has been that I won’t be able to keep this restless piece of wind after all, and this just proves I was right to fear it.

“No, I’m not.” He leans toward me earnestly, and he does seem to mean it. It settles me a bit, but I’m still scared. “I just… I will. I promise.” He kisses my hand, then brings it into his lap and holds it tightly between both hands. I’m slowly settling down, but I’m watching him carefully, still unsure. “I will,” he says firmly. “I’m not changing my mind. All right?”

“All right.” I don’t want to push it because he does seem sincere, but… it also seems like he should’ve told them by now. I can’t see why he wouldn’t unless he’s still not sure himself.

“I just haven’t found the right time to have this conversation with them. It doesn’t help that Rayce is so hard to deal with right now.”

“Maybe that will change once he knows.”

“Maybe. But this thing with the affair makes me think there’s more going on with him than I thought. This is so out of character.”

I sigh. I can tell he wants to talk about Rayce, but I don’t know if I want to change the subject. I want to know that he’s staying for good, like I thought he was. But even though I still feel uneasy, I’m reluctant to pressure him. He said he’ll tell them. I think I can wait a little longer, to see what he does. “Well.” I’ll let the conversation go in a different direction for now. “Is there any chance he’s drinking too much or doing drugs or something?”

“Drugs?! God, I hope not! Why do you think that?”

“Well, I don’t, necessarily. It’s just that when you describe your brother when you guys were growing up, and even a few years ago, he seems really different than the person you describe now.”

Connor sighs. “He is different.”

“Maybe it’s this loss you guys have had. Do you think he’s grieving okay?”

“Grieving okay?” Connor squeezes my hand and leans back in his seat. “I don’t know. I mean, it’s been hard on all of us. And he’s never been real touchy feely, so… I don’t know. Is there a wrong way to grieve?”

“No. As long as you’re actually doing it. Maybe he’s avoiding it, or just not coping well with such a big loss. We see that a lot with our kids. Does he ever talk about your parents?”

Connor nods. “Yeah, sometimes. He talks about how important it is that we live up to their legacy, you know?”

I nod. I’ve heard this before. “But that’s just business.” I don’t think that’s the same thing as saying, I really miss Mom and Dad. “Does he ever talk about them like a son?”

Connor gives me a funny look. “That is talking about them like a son. The resort’s not just a business, honey. It was Dad’s dream. His passion.” He cocks his head at me. “I haven’t told you how he started it all, have I?”

I shake my head.

“Ah, well.” He settles deeper into his chair and smiles a bit. “He and Mom were living up in San Francisco at the time, back when Rayce and Lizzy were little kids. I wasn’t around yet. She was an executive for this big hotel and he was a real estate agent, like his older brother. He sold these really high-end properties all over northern and central California. Sometimes SoCal too, but mostly upstate. Anyway, this client contacts him and says he wants him to list this property in Swan Pointe.”

Connor smiles fully now, eagerly embracing our new topic. I settle into my chair too, sinking into another one of his stories.

“Well Dad drives down there to meet the guy so he can write up the listing. It was the resort, obviously, but it wasn’t anything like it is today. It had fallen into disrepair and hadn’t been updated since it’d been built in the Twenties. It was a real shit hole, he liked to say.”

Connor laughs. “But he’s walking through the property and he gets this vision for what it could be. It was really different, back then. You wouldn’t believe the pictures. Only one pool. Interior elevator bays. No windows along the back lobby, which was actually just a single-story lobby originally. God, I could go on. But my dad,” Connor’s eyes are all lit up, kind of the way they get when he comes to a fork in the road, “he’s walking through it all and taking notes like he’s going to list the thing. But the whole time he’s seeing things. Another pool here. Glass elevators there. A big mosaic on the floor here,” and Connor sweeps his hand in a circle like he’s seeing it himself, right this moment.

I am too. I’m smiling and imagining it all.

“So he finishes up with his client and says he’ll send him a draft of the listing the next day. But he drives back up to San Francisco, pulls my mom out of work, and drags her back down there. Oh, I wish you could hear her tell this part. She’d go on about how he was like a little kid, telling her everything he saw in his head.” Connor laughs again. “So just like that, the decision was made.”

“I can see where you get your impulsive side,” I say, teasing him.

He grins and nods. “Yeah. The good impulsive, though.”

“Is there a bad impulsive?”

Connor laughs. “I assure you, there is. And there were times in the beginning when Mom wondered if the resort wasn’t bad impulsive. They sold literally everything they had that was worth anything, bought the resort, and sunk every last penny into renovating it and covering their operating expenses. At first they lived right there on property with Rayce and Lizzy in this little two-room suite. I don’t know how they did it. Not long after, Mom found out she was pregnant with me. Everyone likes to tease me that I was conceived in Room 701.”

He rolls his eyes and I chuckle. “Were you?”

“She didn’t know for sure. I’ll have to show you the room sometime. It’s the only room that wasn’t renovated. There’s a whole other story that goes with that room.” He grins. “Anyway, they made it work. Mom was a marketing genius and leveraged her connections in Hollywood to get big names to come check it out.”

“Your mom had connections in Hollywood?”

“My grandfather’s a career scriptwriter and director. Nothing major so you’ve probably never heard of him, but he’s been doing it for something like forty years and he knows everybody. Mom said he’s one of those industry legends who’s only legendary inside the industry.” Connor smiles.

“Wow.”

He shrugs, like it’s no big deal, but I think it’s pretty cool. “Anyway, between completely reinventing the resort and offering free stays to the Hollywood elite to help put it on the map, my parents created something completely new. A place where people could come and get pampered and forget about all their stresses for a while. We have plenty of wealthy people who come stay and it’s just another nice vacation for them. But many of our guests really have to save up for it. Dad always said either way, it’s our job to make sure we give them a beautiful memory that’s worth more than what they spent on it.”

Connor’s face goes soft as he remembers. I rest my chin in my hand, watching him and falling in love with him a little more, like I do every time I discover some new piece of his heart.

“This is what we grew up with, Whitney. It’s not a business. It’s a dream. It meant something to them. Everything you see is there because my mom or my dad dreamed it up in their head.” He sighs. “I think that’s why it’s so hard for us to want to change anything.”

“Also why it’s so hard to leave?”

He doesn’t answer. He just kisses my hand, then puts it back on his lap, lost in his own thoughts.

Even though you want to, I want to say, but don’t.

I don’t mention the promotion to Connor until our last night. We’re in bed, recovering from another round of sex so wild and intense I think I might actually be satisfied enough to last me until the next time we see each other.

I look over at him, lying on his back with his eyes closed and radiating that relaxed, post-sex glow. His chest is looking all gorgeous and his fingers are lightly caressing up and down my inner thigh, giving me light shivers.

Well, maybe I’m satisfied enough to last until we see each other again.

I’ve been hesitant to bring up the promotion offer because what if he just congratulates me and tells me to go for it and doesn’t even think about how this may or may not affect our future together? I’ve been hesitant because I don’t know what I want from him at this point, or what it might be reasonable to want. We’ve only been together four weeks, after all.

But I have to give my boss an answer this week, so the time has finally come to let him in on things. “So.” I nudge his side a bit. “I have news.”

He opens his eyes and looks at me, giving me that loving smile that lifts my heart. “Oh yeah? What?”

“My boss wants to promote me to San Francisco Manager of Resettlement.” His eyebrows slowly raise, but he says nothing as I continue. “It wouldn’t happen until the current manager leaves in September, but she’d want to start training me right away. I would be mostly coordinating with our specialists, so it wouldn’t be working directly with the families as much. So that part’s good.”

“That is good,” he says quietly, his expression almost unchanged.

“And it would be a nice raise and I’d have better benefits.” I can’t figure out his expression over there and I’m talking out of nerves now, I know it. “I’d have four weeks of vacation instead of two. So it’s, you know, a good opportunity.” On paper, anyway.

“It sounds like it.” There’s an awkward pause as we look at one another, then he smiles and says, “I’m really proud of you, honey. Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” I say, weakly.

He furrows his brow a bit and rubs his hand on my arm. “Don’t you want to take it?”

“I don’t know.” I scoot closer to him. “Do you think I should?”

“I… think you should do whatever makes you happy. I like that it would be easier on you. I think that’s a benefit that’s better than everything else combined.”

“Yeah.”

Tell me not to take it. Tell me to find something different in Swan Pointe instead.

But maybe it’s unfair for me to expect him to say that, when I’m too afraid to even say that’s what I want. Because what if he hasn’t told his siblings he’s staying because he’s not really? What if he wants to, but won’t be able to?

That presents a whole different problem for me. Because I’m to the point where I think I’d follow him around the world if he feels he can’t resist that horizon. If he’d let me. I’d give up my job and my promotion and my desire for a piece of land to call home if it meant I could just be with him.

But can you say that to someone after only four weeks? Especially someone like Connor? Will it frighten him away?

And if he did decide to leave, who says he would want me along? Can you still be the wind when you’ve got someone tied to your side?

Because when I’m really honest with myself, I’m afraid he’s still the wind, and I’m over here completely delusional about my ability to capture him.

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Chapter 24

Connor

I’m genuinely proud of Whitney for being offered such a great position. And I am genuinely happy she’ll be doing something that gives her tender heart a break. I mean, it’s good news, right? So why aren’t I happy about it? Not only am I not happy about it, every time I think about it, I get a little sick to my stomach.

Or, that might be because I’ve decided to keep my promise to Whitney today. I promised I’d tell my siblings I’m staying. I promised. I have to do it. I can’t put it off anymore, even though Rayce is once again being kind of an ass today and I don’t really want to talk to him more than I have to.

But maybe he’ll relax once this isn’t hanging over his head anymore.

And, I’ve given some thought to what Whitney asked me about. Is this just a sign that he’s not handling Mom and Dad’s deaths very well?

But are any of us? I still get this hot ache in my heart if I think about them too much, and I think about them every day.

But, that’s not something I can worry about right now. Regardless of what’s going on with Rayce, today’s the day I have to tell them.

I wait until the last minute though. It’s after six o’clock and Lizzy’s stopping at the door to my office to see if I need anything before she leaves for the day.

“Uh, wait,” I say.

She looks at me expectantly.

“Um, is Rayce still here?” I kind of hope he’s not. Then I’ll have to wait until tomorrow. But she peaks her head around the corner, then looks back at me.

“Yep.”

“Uh. Okay. Um, will you have him come in here? I have something I want to tell you guys.”

A slightly fearful expression comes over her face. Then she looks resolute. “All right.”

She disappears and I hear her talking to Rayce, conveying the message. I remember what she said to me all those weeks ago. That they’re scared I’m going to leave and they wanted time to prepare for it.

At least I won’t be breaking their hearts. That’s good.

Too soon, they’re both coming into my office and settling into the chairs opposite me. I wish I didn’t feel so nervous. I wish I knew why I do. I do want this, don’t I?

“Well, I’ve made a decision.”

“Okay,” Lizzy says nervously. Rayce is watching me, looking like he’s bracing himself for a blow.

I take a deep breath and decide to just spit it out. “I’m staying.”

Her mouth flies open and her eyes light up. “Really?”

Rayce frowns. “Really?”

“Uh, yes. Really.”

“Oh, I’m so glad!” She gets up and comes around to give me a hug. I stand up and hug her back but my eyes are on Rayce. He’s looking at me like he can’t decide whether or not to believe me.

“You’re sure?” Rayce asks.

Lizzy pulls away and I nod. She beams at me. “Wait till Corrine hears. Oh my god, we have to celebrate.” She turns to Rayce and sees the expression on his face. Her face falls a bit. “Don’t even start. He’s decided.”

“And you’re sure?” he asks again, ignoring her and keeping his eyes on me.

I nod. I can’t seem to say it again. But it’s out there and I’ve told them, like I said I would.

“See?” Lizzy says to him with a surprisingly stern tone in her voice. “He’s sure so let’s be happy. I say this calls for chocolate. Rayce, do you have your keys?” Meaning his set of master hotel keys, for those areas that don’t use key cards.

We all three have sets but Lizzy tends to keep hers in her purse in her office. Rayce always has his keys. Hell, I’ve always got my keys on me too, but I think when Lizzy said, “Do you have your keys?” she meant “So stop looking like that and let’s go do something nice together.”

He stands up obediently and she claps her hands. “That’s more like it.”

She leads the way out and I follow her, with Rayce behind me. We leave the administrative offices and cross the hall at an angle, heading for Sweetbrew, which is closed for the day. Rayce comes up so he’s walking right next to me.

He’s watching me, but I ignore him.

We get to the door and Lizzy holds out her hand.

Still looking at me, Rayce digs into his pocket and hands his keys to her. “You’re sure?” he asks again.

“God, Rayce,” Lizzy says, obviously irritated. “He said he was. What more do you want?”

She turns to unlock the door.

“He just doesn’t seem too excited.”

“I’m right here,” I say, as Lizzy lets us in and locks the door behind us. “You don’t have to talk about me in the third person.”

“Stop being so sensitive,” he says.

“Knock it off, you two.” She leads us past the little round tables and front counter with its glass display cases, and into the back kitchen where she flips on the light.

The kitchen of Sweetbrew is as familiar to me as anywhere else in the hotel. There’s a small bank of griddles and a stove, an oven, a few industrial floor-mixers, a fridge, a sink, and a grouping of stainless steel work stations that are used most often for chocolate making. We’ve been sneaking in here after hours ever since we were kids, and the chocolate is the primary reason.

She heads to the refrigerator where the manager keeps a stash of the occasional chocolates that are too misshapen or imperfect to sell.

Rayce and I come down the row between the work tables. “I’m not the one who’s being sensitive,” I say. “You can’t seem to keep your cool about anything these days.”

“Boys,” Lizzy says, in a warning tone. She’s stopped right where she is, not quite to the refrigerator yet. Her back’s to us and she’s braced both arms on the edge of the stainless steel sink, her head hanging down.

“At least I’m not lying about my intentions here,” Rayce says hotly, and I spin on him.

“Oh, you haven’t lied to me about anything at all recently.”

Rayce’s eyes sharpen on me and he opens his mouth to say something. He doesn’t get a chance to say whatever it was though, because in the next minute, two things happen: Lizzy lets out an exasperated “Arrgh!” and Rayce gets blasted straight in the face with a stream of water from the sprayer Lizzy’s now holding in her hand.

Rayce hollers and puts his hands up. I glance at Lizzy in just enough time to see the determined and infuriated expression on her face, before the blast of water comes right at me. Now we’re both throwing our hands up and desperately looking for cover and saying, “Hey Lizzy!”

“Shut up both of you!” she yells, but I barely hear her because she’s not letting up with the water. We both scramble to crouch behind the work station, safe for the moment. The water stops.

“I’m so sick of your petty bickering and constant sniping and—” Rayce and I stay crouched low, looking at each other wide-eyed and wondering if our sister’s lost her mind, “and your stupid childish behavior,” she finishes. She doesn’t sound done, though. She sounds raging mad.

Rayce’s suit is soaked and water’s dripping from his hair and into his face. I’m not much better off. We both wipe the water out of our eyes and look at each other as if to say, Which one of us is going out there?

I shake my head. Not me, dude.

“Uh, Lizzy?” he says tentatively, raising his head just a bit to peek over the top of the counter at her. His eyes widen and he ducks back down. A spray of water goes over his head.

I’d laugh if I weren’t so stunned.

“Don’t Lizzy me! You’ve been a royal fucking pain in the ass for months and I am over it. And as for you.” Even though I can’t see her I know she means me and I cringe. “You just can’t resist feeding into it, can you? Can you?”

Neither one of us says a word. Nope, not us. We’re just two grown men in suits, looking at each other in astonishment, and crouching behind steel tables in sheer terror of their sister and her water hose.

“I’m so sick of it. I’m so—” her voice breaks “so—”

A sob breaks loose and the mood of the room changes instantly. The weight of our sister’s heartbreaking sob drapes over us. The silence is thick, and neither one of us moves. I don’t think either one of us are breathing.

“It was bad enough losing Mom and Dad,” she says firmly, anger and tears still trembling in her voice. “I don’t need to lose you, too.”

Ouch. Rayce and I look at each other, more openly than we have in months.

A reverberating clang tells us she’s thrown the nozzle back into the sink, but we still don’t move. We aren’t looking at each other with shock or fear anymore. The only thing I see on Rayce’s face is exactly the one thing I feel: regret.

“I want my brothers back!” With that, she storms past us, her heels clicking furiously on the tile, and slams the kitchen door behind her.

We both hold our breath in the silence that follows. We’re frozen for a second. Then he pinches his eyes closed and I exhale heavily. We slowly sink the rest of the way to the floor, our backs against the table and our knees drawn up.

His arms are resting on his bent knees. “Shit,” he says quietly.

I run my hand through my wet hair. “Yeah.”

“Well, that was fun.” But there’s not a hint of malice in his voice. In fact, he sounds like my brother again, and it makes my heart hurt. I’ve really missed him.

I look at him. He looks like he’s hurting too, but like he doesn’t want to be hurting. Like he’s trying to stomp it all back in. With my anger sprayed clean out of me, it’s easier to see what Whitney was trying to tell me. I think my brother might be really suffering. I wish I’d been willing to see it sooner. I wish I’d been there for him, instead of pushing his buttons all the time.

“Sorry,” I say.

“Oh…” He sighs again and rubs his forehead. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I’m not mad at you. I’m really not. It’s just… it’s just been a lot, you know? Trying to keep it all going.”

“I know.” I think maybe, as the oldest, Rayce has felt even more keenly than Lizzy and I have the weight of protecting Mom and Dad’s legacy. But… as I really look at him now, I don’t think that’s what’s making his face look so weary and drawn. I think back over the past several months, and what his behavior’s been like.

Now I’m even more sure of what’s going on with him. God, it’s so obvious. Now that I see it, I don’t know how I was missing it. “It’s okay to miss them.”

He blinks, almost like I struck him. But otherwise, his expression is unchanged and he’s still looking straight ahead. “Don’t get all Dr. Phil on me.” His voice is tight, I don’t think from anger, but from suppressed sorrow. He’s been all locked up, and it’s killing him.

“It is.”

“I mean it, Connor.”

“It’s eating you alive.”

He looks at me suddenly, his eyes sharp and miserable. “I’ll tell you what’s eating me alive. Mom called me that day. At exactly 3:04 p.m. she called and I didn’t answer because I was in a meeting.”

Now it’s my turn to feel like I’ve been punched. She called from the boat.

“I didn’t call back until almost five. Because I had the meeting and emails to respond to and a stupid, fucking coffee to get from—”

“Rayce—”

“She called me and I wasn’t there.” Then his anger breaks and his face twists into agony. I can’t move. I’m held fast by the wrenching look on his face. I’ve never seen him look so raw. “What if she was calling for help? What if I could’ve got to them?”

I exhale slowly. Is this what it’s been? “Shit, Rayce,” I say quietly. “It wasn’t your fault.”

He laughs humorlessly, leaning his head back against the table and closing his eyes. “You don’t know that,” he says dully.

“Well, you don’t know that it was but you’re over there blaming yourself? God, I really wish Dad was here to knock some sense into you.”

Before the whole Lizzy-spraying-us-with-water thing, a comment like that would’ve pissed him the hell off. But he doesn’t get mad. Instead he does something I haven’t seen him do since we were kids. He drops his head onto his arms and starts to cry. It’s silent at first, the only sign the trembling of his shoulders. Then I hear it, and it intensifies, like a great dam has been let loose. It rips right through me.

Ultimately, I’m glad he said something, and I’m glad he’s finally letting this out because I think he’s really needed to, but God, it’s killing me to watch. I put my arm on his back, my palm cupping the back of his head. I keep it there, trying to offer my big brother some small measure of comfort. He doesn’t move. He just grips my hand and hangs on while he weeps and weeps.

Eventually he stops, and we start talking. For an hour we talk, moving from the floor to sitting on the tables eating chocolate, and it’s much more like the way things used to be between us. We talk a lot about Mom and Dad, and old memories, and what life looks like now without them. We even end things with a hug that lingers awhile.

We agree to make things up to Lizzy right away, and are surprised to find her still in her office instead of at home. She’s sitting behind her desk, and watches us warily as we approach her. We each have one hand behind our backs.

I carefully bring my hand out and put a square of dark chocolate in front of her. “I brought you a piece of chocolate.”

Her wary expression is unchanged as she frowns at the little square, molded with a fleur de lis on top.

Rayce puts his offering in front of her, an oversized pecan turtle that’s one of her favorites. “And I brought you a bigger piece of chocolate.”

Her expression breaks and she kind of laughs, looking up at us. We’re both smiling.

“We’re sorry,” I say.

She looks at Rayce, hopeful.

“I’m really sorry,” he says, in a tone of voice that gets me right in the chest. There’s still so much raw tenderness about him. Now that he’s cracked open, it may take a while to close him back up again.

His apology must have hit Lizzy in the heart too because she immediately gets up and comes around to give him a hug, starting to cry.

“Don’t cry,” he says, holding her. “I’ll be better, I promise.” She keeps crying and he just holds her tighter. “God, I’m sorry.”

“You just had to one-up me in the apology department, didn’t you?”

He smiles at me and Lizzy laughs, pulling back. “I do want my brothers back,” she says sternly, wiping her tears away. She said brothers, but she’s only looking at him.

“We’ll be here,” he says. “We promise.”

She looks at me to confirm and I wink at her.

She leans back against her desk and takes a deep breath. “Okay.” Calmer now, she looks us both over, taking in the big wet spots all over our clothes. “I would apologize for spraying you, but it was pretty gratifying, actually.”

“Don’t get too comfortable with that,” Rayce says, grinning. “You get one free pass. Anything beyond that is open for paybacks.”

You’ve been reading Beautiful Mine.