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He’s lounging in a chair that faces a sparkling cerulean blue pool, legs crossed at the ankles as he peruses something on his phone. From this angle, I can tell his broad shoulders have rounded and his hair has thinned since nearly a decade ago. And when we get closer, I spy a stomach that protrudes enough to strain the buttons on his chambray shirt.
Time has not been kind to him.
A petty burst of satisfaction washes through me.
“Nolan,” Anabelle says, voice sing-song-y. “Our guests have arrived.”
He darkens his phone screen, places it on a table that matches his lounge chair, and turns to face us, pushing himself up to a standing with a subtle groan. His gaze lands on Trey first and he extends his right hand.
“Pleasure to finally meet you in person,” he says. But when his attention shifts to me, a restrained paleness colors his tanned face. “And you are?”
Of course he’s going to pretend he doesn’t know me.
“Sophie Bristol,” I give him my full name. A reminder of a name he’s likely spent the last eight years trying to forget.
“Nice to meet you,” he says, extending his hand. All eyes are on us, so I can’t show a hint of reluctance.
“Likewise,” I say, our eyes holding for one knowing second. The inner teenage me wants to glare at him, but I won’t. He doesn’t deserve the satisfaction.
Anabelle checks her watch. When we disembarked the jet earlier, it was nearly four o’clock. “Should we start with some drinks? I make a mean margarita …”
“That would be amazing, Anabelle. Thank you,” Trey says.
“Why don’t you all have a seat here.” She points at a zinc-topped table beneath a stained-cedar pergola. “And I’ll be right back.”
Anabelle disappears inside, her brightly patterned sundress loose on her thin hips as it sways in the breeze.
“How was the flight?” Nolan makes small talk, his laser-intense stare flicking between the two of us. Something about it weighs on me, hard, intrusive. But I offer him a smile each time, a silent “fuck you.”
“As expected,” Trey answers. He hates small talk, so I imagine this is torture. “How long are you staying here?”
“As long as the wife would like.” Nolan chuckles. “Lately I’ve been letting her call the shots. She’s the one pushing for me to retire. The kids aren’t getting any younger, and neither are we. Sasha will be graduating high school in ten years and Enzo will be right behind her. I’m sure that time will fly.”
He peers at me from across the table. It was a directed jab, I know it. He probably thinks I’m here on purpose, that I’ve leaked the details of our NDA. And in a way I did, but I kept his name out of it. After all, that’s what mattered most to him. As long as “Nolan Ames” is detached from that scandal, his secret is safe.
The sliding door whirs and Anabelle returns with a pitcher and four empty margarita glasses. “I hope you don’t mind agave for the sweetener. I used fresh limes, but I’ve got strawberries inside I can puree if you’d like?”
“Lime is fine,” Trey says. “No problem with keeping it traditional.”
“Wonderful.” She places the tray on the table, pouring and passing out drinks.
“So how’d the two of you meet anyway?” Nolan asks.
“At work,” Trey answers, looking to me. “We bumped into each other in the hallway and I was immediately smitten with her. Called her into my office and we hit it off.”
Nolan sips his drink. “Psh, come on. I think you can do better than that.”
“And what do you mean by that?” Trey squints but keeps his tone jovial.
“No offense to you or Sophie, but that doesn’t exactly scream love at first sight,” Nolan says.
“I guess you had to be there,” I say, taking Trey’s hand. He rubs the top of it with his thumb, offering me a loving half-grin. “When you know, you know.”
“Exactly,” Trey says.
“Have you set a date for the wedding?” Anabelle asks, taking a seat next to her husband.
“September,” I say.
“Can’t come soon enough,” Trey adds.
“That’s wonderful.” Anabelle’s arched brows rise as she smiles. “September is a beautiful time of year, perfectly straddling summer and fall. Have you planned your honeymoon yet?”
“Florence,” Trey says without pause. “Sophie’s always wanted to visit, and I haven’t been since childhood. Should be a treat seeing it all over again through her eyes.”
The sincerity in his words blankets the tightness in my core. I exhale, more relaxed than a moment ago. And while I never wanted to see Nolan again, with Trey by my side, it’s not as unpleasant as it could’ve been otherwise.
The faintness of a child’s scream passes through an open kitchen window and Anabelle chuckles. “Sounds like there’s a fire I need to put out. Probably arguing over magna tiles again … Excuse me for a minute please.”
