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"Rhea and I have a few matters to discuss, but it's not entirely off the table."
"Liar." Rhea dismisses him with an airy wave of her hand. "You'll never leave Costa Rica. You have the perfect life for a bachelor."
"And who says I want to be a perpetual bachelor?" He smirks.
"You did!" Rhea squeals. "Mr. 'I'll never fall in love,' 'I'll never get married,' 'children are God's punishment for our existence.'"
"Ouch." I laugh. "Someone's got some serious daddy issues."
Remy looks me dead on, and I feel like he’s melting a little bit of my soul with the intensity of his gaze. "You have no idea."
His phone chimes at that exact moment—a blessing from the stars because I’m pretty sure I’m staring at him with my mouth open. The phone steals his attention for a moment. When he looks up, his eyes narrow on the theater screen and the movie we haven't been watching. "Why are you watching a Christmas movie?"
Rhea laughs loudly.
"It's July," I explain as if that will make him understand. But it doesn't seem to clear anything up because Remy still stares at me like I've spoken a foreign language. "You know, Christmas in July?"
The blank expression on his face doesn't change until Rhea pipes up to offer me backup. "I'd never heard of it, either, 'til I met Claire. Apparently, it's some sort of marketing campaign, but Claire takes it literally. Just be glad she's not wearing her Christmas pajamas."
"Wait.” I turn to her, not bothering to hide the offense. “What's wrong with my Christmas pajamas?"
"Nothing." Rhea smiles sweetly. "Remy, would you put your phone away?" She yells, sending a pillow sailing across the couch. Remy swats it away effortlessly, and it falls to the ground with a soft thud.
"Business never stops."
"Sure." Rhea rolls her eyes.
"What exactly is the family business?" I venture, relaxing on the couch. I can feel the exhaustion begin to creep in from our long day. It’s a question I've asked Rhea a few times; You don't acquire a wealth like this unless you have part in something big… investments or technology or something. But Rhea says she has no interest in whatever her family does. As an art student, she wants no part in the finances or politics that her brother and father are slaves to.
"Venture capitalism." Remy doesn't miss a beat, but he eyes me, watching my face for any sign that I understand what he means.
"So, you guys just come from old money," I conclude, only half teasing. Rhea has told me that her father and brother are always working and that they earn their money by never ceasing. But there’s no denying that they have money because they came from money.
"You could say that." He shrugs. "Old money that my ancestors just kept investing over and over again. Our great-great-grandfather turned a hundred dollars into three, and then three into a thousand, and then a thousand into three thousand. Our mother came from a wealthy family."
"How my dad ever got her to fall for him, I still don't understand." Rhea shakes her head.
"It's called a marriage of convenience." Remy’s voice is flat. "Mom needed someone to protect her, dad needed someone to flaunt to all his competitors."
"You're not much of a romantic." I surmise, pursing my lips as I wonder what exactly possessed me to say that. "Doesn't that make your life boring? Being all business all the time?"
A mischievous gleam sparks in his dark eyes. "My life is far from boring, Claire, and I make plenty of time for pleasure. You'll see." He winks, sending a warm flash over my skin, and then stands. "You'll need to be ready to leave by seven."
"Seven?" Rhea nearly spills what’s left of her drink in shock. "I thought you said our flight was at eight?"
"It is." He confirms. "But I know how you are. If I say eight, you'll be dragging your ass out of bed at seven-thirty, and I'm not paying Simon and Elize overtime to wait on you to get there."
"Touché."
"I'll take the master tonight, and Claire can continue to sleep in my room."
"Oh, you don't have to do that," I say quickly. "I can stay with Rhea... or sleep on the couch."
"There's like ten bedrooms in this house." Rhea frowns. "There's no need to sleep on the couch. Remy is just taking my parents' room as a show of dominance."
"If I wanted to sleep in my old room, I would.” Remy’s words are bold, chasing a strange feeling over my flesh. “Just do me a favor and lock the balcony door this time. Sweet dreams." He winks at me, dousing that heat over me once again. I hope Rhea hasn’t noticed.
"I'll see you at seven," Rhea promises as he walks out of the room.
