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“You’d best get chatting then.”
“Okay, you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into, mountain man, but you asked…” I sit upright so we’re facing each other and take a deep breath because I’m not really sure if he’s ready to hear about all the ways my life has changed since I saw him last, but here we go. “I know you said you remember me being a handful. Well, that never stopped. Once the boys moved out, it was just me in that massive house, and I was bored. I hated being carted around to events with my parents and shown off as some debutant. That wasn’t me, and it never has been.” I pause, watching his reaction, but when I see he’s staring at me intently, it makes me feel more exposed than I’ve ever been with anyone.
“So, Daddy dearest took to being disappointed in me. My mother was just constantly irritated I wasn’t the perfect daughter that she could play dress up on.” I laugh to myself, but it’s empty. “When I was eight, she dressed me in a white poufy dress, and I hacked it to pieces so the hem was all different lengths. She fainted, like a pure drama queen, but she was so mad at me. In my defence, I’d made the dress better. I looked like a rock chick rather than a debutant. She’s never forgiven me for it, I swear.”
“I remember that. It’s foggy, but I remember Max coming over, being really riled up about it.” He stares into the distance, obviously recalling the night.
I play with a thread of cotton from my towel. “Yeah, that doesn’t surprise me. It probably upsets Max the most that we don’t get on. It used to be a sport, pissing them off, but now it’s just…” I pause again, not really willing to admit that it hurts, especially to Harrison Clarke. I shake my head, realising that I’m taking a turn into sad girl vibes. Staring out at the glistening blue pool, a sigh escapes my mouth. “I’m not even sure some of my friends know this much about me. Are you sure you want to learn my innermost secrets?” I say, raising an eyebrow and hoping he doesn’t push me for the end of that sentence.
“I’m an excellent secret keeper.” He winks, making heat crawl up my spine and settle in my cheeks.
“Okay… So, where was I?”
“The dress when you were eight,” he replies.
“Ah yes,” I say, finding that piece of string again to keep my hands busy. “So, that was the end of my mother trying to mould me into something I was never going to be. They both put all their effort into my brothers because they were their golden boys; the ones who already worked with Dad on the weekends at the company, the ones who said yes and never no. Once the boys left, everything became a sport to piss my parents off.” I scoff at my past self. Thank God I’ve grown up since then and made a somewhat decent human of myself. “I was the worst kind of teenager, but when I turned seventeen, I realised I wasn’t enjoying it anymore. So, I apologised and made a plan to get out of their house. Although my parents still don’t approve of what I do. I mean, when I turned eighteen, I used half of my trust fund for a good cause, and that pissed them off even more.”
“Are you a do-gooder on the sly, Zoey Bancroft?” he asks, amusement scattered across his face.
I smile widely. “I am, but you can’t tell a soul. My reputation as a detached wild child will be ruined.” I put my index finger against my lips in a shh motion, and he tracks the movement so intently I want to shiver from his stare. “But seriously, I opened a non-profit animal shelter because if there’s one thing I hate, it’s the way animals are treated.” I feel my blood heat from my passion about this subject. “They’re helpless and just want to be loved.”
Like me, mysubconscious adds—always the voice of reason.
The look on Harrison’s face has me feeling raw and vulnerable again, like he’s reallyseeingme, and it’s unnerving. I don’t think anyone has ever seen the real, hidden, scared parts of me. But the look in his eyes—kind, open and calm—has me taking a deep breath that I feel all the way to my toes, and I’m a little more relaxed. Maybe talking to strangers is actually cathartic or whatever.
“I have a confession. I knew you had the shelter. I looked you up after I saw you at the wedding last year.”
I squeeze my eyes closed at the hazy memory from that night. “You mean when I shamelessly flirted with you and still had no idea you weretheHarrison Clarke?”
“I… I thought you didn’t remember,” he says shyly, running his hand over his beard.
“Pff, you practically were famous to me. Definitely a regular in my dreams growing up, but for whatever reason I never connected the dots until now,” I say, and immediately my eyes widen, and I bury my head in my hands, groaning. “Tell me you didn’t hear that.”
“Oh, I heard it, alright.” His voice is low.
When I look up, my face is on fire. Embarrassment curls around me like smoke, but when I look at Harrison, he has a look on his face. It’s the same one he wore when I asked him to apply my sun cream. It kind of says, ‘I’d fuck you into next Tuesday, but respectfully’. The heat in my cheeks intensifies at the thought.
“Please don’t hang that over my head.”
He casually sips his beer, and I watch his throat work, swallowing the liquid. “I’d never,” he says, smirking.
“Why don’t I believe you?” He shrugs, and for a moment, he looks like the boy that I crushed on, full of charm, playfulness, and completely untouchable. “What about you? You obviously haven’t managed to shake my brothers?”
He smiles over at them as they continually dunk each other under the water. Honestly, you’d think thirty-five year old men would be more mature in the Bellagio, but no. “Yeah, they’re stuck with me just as much though.”
“But you work together a lot?” I ask. “I don’t have anything to do with the company, so I have no idea. You could be the brains behind it all for all I know.”
He chuckles. “I’ve got my own company. ITC—it’s a tech company that develops and implements office software.”
“Oooo…”
“You have any idea what that is?”
“No, but it sounds fancy.”
He smiles bashfully. “I basically have made different systems, apps and software that companies use across the world to operate their business on. You must have something at work similar?”
I squint to think. “I’m sure Lloyd downloaded something called Officewide, which has a basic system and adoption form we use, but it’s not that reliable.”
