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This couldn’t be about that damn floating sign? Maybe Lara had a reason to hold on so tight after all. He started around Bitty, headed for the stairs. Another crash and more screaming—this time followed by an indecipherable retort from a second voice. He was ready to bolt when Bitty’s hand clamped onto his shoulder.
“It’s sister stuff,” she said. “Might be better for you to just let them work it out.”
There was something in her eyes that told him the fight had nothing to do with Dette’s ridiculous net. Suddenly uneasy, he asked, “You know what it’s about?”
She nodded. “I have a pretty good idea.”
“You said you would help me!” Dette screamed, one hand smacking down on her nightstand to punctuate each word. She lowered her voice and stalked toward Lara with a menacing glare. “But instead, you settle for sloppy seconds because you’re too jealous and immature to keep your legs closed. I hope it was worth it. He didn’t seem that great to me when I had my ride, but maybe your standards are lower.”
Lara took a deep breath. She’d known the outburst would come. She deserved it.
Dette felt like she was cornered, her future happiness in danger, but suddenly her reserve of compassion was depleted. She lashed out before she could stop herself. “Ha, I didn’t know you had any standards.”
It was a lame comeback and did little to ease the guilt or pain she was feeling.
Dette snorted and rolled her eyes. “Ouch, you really got me with that one.”
That was it. The seating chart was hitting the shredder.
Lightning split the sky and Dette walked over to window where rain pelted the glass. Lara saw her ticking off the seconds on her hand as she waited for the rumbling thunder to sound. When it came, she turned back to face Lara. “Storm’s moving off now.”
And just like that, she remembered why Dette was worth protecting. No matter the harsh words between them, they were sisters. It always came back to that and it always would.
How many stormy nights had she spent in this room as a frightened little girl? Dette never turned her away. Never told her to go back to her own room or made her feel like a baby for being scared. She just lifted a corner of her quilt and let her crawl in.
They would hold hands and Dette would whisper to her in the dark. “See? Seven seconds that time. It’s getting farther away now. Don’t be scared, I’ll take care of you.”
Exhausted, Lara leaned back against the wall of Dette’s room, her hands at her temples. “I know, I know. Look, I’m sorry, I just—I fell into what was happening with us. I should have stopped it but I didn’t. I couldn’t. I know it’s selfish of me, but—”
“No ‘but’,” Dette snapped, shaking an accusing finger at her. “Selfish is exactly right and covers it completely. Have you any concept of what this little stunt of yours could cost me? My marriage, Lara.”
“He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know I lied to him.” Her heart was sinking. Lies were something she couldn’t respect, seldom forgave, and now here she was, trapped in the mother of all of them.
“And he’s never going to find out you lied to him, because you’re never going to tell.” Dette stormed across the room, a single decorative throw pillow, the latest victim in her tirade, twisted in clutches. “You realize how much worse this will all be if it comes out now instead of when he first walked through the door, before we spun a bunch of lies like we had something to be guilty about—which we didn’t. But you do realize how much worse it would be now, right?”
“I get it. But, Dette, what if he figures it out?”
“He hasn’t figured it out yet, so just stay away from him and he won’t.”
Shaking her head slowly, Lara whispered what she wanted to scream. “I can’t stay away from him. I can’t do it.”
Dette glared at her. “You can’t tell him.”
Hanging her head, she sighed. “I won’t.”
Chapter Ten
With the evening came mild temperatures, clear skies and the return of the attendants scattered to the stores at Dette’s request earlier in the day. Seated at a table with six of her cousins, Lara pulled a thin sweater around her shoulders and stared out over the water, only half listening to the conversation taking place around her. The water was calmer now, the undulating currents reflecting gilded ribbons of orange as the sun melted away with the day.
“Yes, but he had that Latin lover thing going on. He was too saucy to pass up.” Bitty smirked mischievously over her wineglass then mumbled loud enough for everyone at the table to hear, “Besides, I was never going to see him again, and it’s not like I was engaged to someone else. So why not?”
Lara cranked her eyes over to Bitty, her head trailing a second behind.
Bitty blinked wide, the portrait of innocence. “What? Did I say something?”
Her cousin had a way of making her point, repeatedly, when she wanted to. And this evening her point was that Lara was being a fool for not telling Cal the truth. There was no question, Lara wanted to fess up, to know that what they had started could sustain a blow like this, and then go forward with nothing but honesty and openness between them…forever. But she’d made a commitment to her sister and that would have to come first. Dette wasn’t the only one who had made her bed. Lara had willingly participated in furthering the deception, and now she was going to have to live with the consequences. Even if those consequences included frequent berating by her well-intended cousin.
Dismissing the taunt, Lara looked away, instead focusing on the middle of the terrace. A woman in strappy three-inch heels and a shimmering dress straight out of the Solid Gold wardrobe room sashayed in a slow circle, clapping her hands and cooing welcomes to those seated at the surrounding tables. “Wow. Get a load of the dress and heels.”
