Page 48 of Waiting for You

"Now," Violet agreed, her eyes gleaming. She scanned the faces around the table. "As you all know, Simon and I haven't gone on our honeymoon yet. We talked about it, and we had a big idea. We think it could be good for everyone."

Sloane squinted at her. "What idea about your honeymoon could possibly benefit the rest of us? It's your honeymoon."

"It's about the honeymoon," Violet said, "but it's also about you. There are people in this room we love, and we want them in on the celebration." She paused for effect. "We're going on a couples trip. Hawaii. A private rented estate on the beach. One full week. Me and Simon, obviously. Eliza and Xavier. And you and Andrew."

Sloane blinked at Violet, then turned her head to look at Andrew.

"You want to fly to Hawaii?" she asked him, bewildered.

"Yes." He flashed a blinding smile. "I'm in."

"Then I guess we're going to Hawaii."

"Are we going to be in separate rooms?" I asked, my voice level.

Eliza whipped her head to look at me, then let out a loud laugh, slapping a hand over her mouth. "Every couple gets their own master suite, Xavier. Don't be ridiculous."

I stared dead across the table at Sloane and Andrew, sitting shoulder to shoulder.

Before I could get out a single objection, Eliza chimed in, "That's a wonderful idea, Violet. I need a holiday right now. Thank you for including us. We'd love to come." She turned her warm smile on me. "Wouldn't we, darling?"

"Yes," I lied through my teeth.

I picked up my water glass and stayed quiet.

TWELVE

SLOANE

"Okay, brief me," Andrew said, twenty minutes out from the estate. "Who am I going to embarrass myself in front of first?"

"Nobody. They'll love you." I ticked them off on my fingers. "Simon barely talks. Violet talks enough for the whole state. Eliza is... polished. You'll get along."

"And Xavier?"

I kept my eyes on the window. "Xavier's fine."

"That's the first one-word answer you've given me all week."

"He's Violet's brother. We've known each other a long time. Our history is boring."

"Nothing about you is boring," he said, like he was closing a deal. It was such a nice thing to say to someone that I felt bad I had nothing to hand back but a smile.

The car came through the gates, and the ocean behind the estate burned a blue so saturated it looked fake. We climbed out, and before my feet hit the gravel, Andrew had my suitcase and my tote off the seat with his own bag, waving me off when I reached for the tote.

"I've got it," he said.

"It weighs four pounds."

"Then it's no trouble." He smiled and shouldered past me toward the entrance.

It should have been charming. But I felt like an understudy shoved onstage mid-scene, trailing my co-star across the gravel while he power-walked my four-pound tote to the door like it might go off if I touched it.

Inside, he had the butler laughing in under a minute over a crack about the luggage, and by the time we reached the hall a porter was treating him like an old war buddy. Andrew was easy with a room. He had the same gift Simon had, the one I couldn't fake before my second coffee.

It was only with me that it came out stiff.

A house manager walked our group to the reserved wing of suites. Andrew and I took one, Xavier and Eliza took the suite next door, and Violet and Simon got the room across the hall. The accommodations were breathtaking, wide and flooded with tropical light, the sliding glass doors opening onto a private balcony over the crashing waves, two plush lounge chairs angled toward the water.