Chapter 2
Naomi at the Myers’
I was in the backseat of my parents’ Mercedes, looking out the window with disinterest.
“How long are we going to be over there?” I asked my dad.
“Naomi, I don’t know,” my dad replied.
“Sweetheart, you haven’t been over to the Myers’ in years,” my mom told me. “There’s no reason to be upset.”
True. But still, this was a valuable Saturday afternoon to lose, and I hated visiting my parents’ friends. Because my parents’ social circle is really weird. They’re all filthy rich, including my folks. Dad owns a broadcast corporation that basically owns a ton of radio networks all across the east coast. But I was never included in the family business, so I set my sights elsewhere.
I got my Bachelor’s in journalism, holding down a steady job for almost a year. Unfortunately, the landscape of media broadcast has morphed into something I didn’t want to be a part of, and I gladly exited the field when layoffs came.
Fortunately, my parents had set up a trust fund for me when I was in high school, so I was able to stay afloat while looking for something better. I wasn’t sure what direction I wanted to take, but I didn’t want it to have anything to do with the Myers family.
Because my parents knew the Myers when they were in college, and they’ve been best friends ever since. It was strange for me to think that anyone could remain such good friends for over thirty years, but they’d found a way. And unfortunately, they always made time to go along for these social calls. When I was growing up, my parents would bring me along quite frequently, and I hated it.
It wasn’t that I disliked them. I didn’t mind seeing Mr. and Mrs. Myers. In fact, I liked them.
It was their son, Joshua Myers, I didn’t want to see.
Growing up, our parents would try and arrange “play dates,” and they even tried to pair us up together in high school a couple of times. But from the day we met as kids, we both knew that we weren’t going to get along. Our personalities clashed constantly, and the older that we got, the less we wanted to see each other. But my parents didn’t get it, pushing us together again and again.
It was bad. The man was arrogant, pigheaded, and always liked to try and give off macho vibes. I didn’t even like the idea that we were living in the same city limits, because that increased the chances that I might run into him out on the street.
But now we were headed over to his parents’ house, and I was going to be under the same roof as him. Damnit. Why was this happening? I shot a look to the Heavens, pleading for an answer … but unfortunately, the gods weren’t answering.
* * *
Pulling up to the Myers’ estate, I’d forgotten how big their property was. Even though my parents owned a lot of land, I was still impressed. My dad parked the car, and before we could even get to the door, George and Nancy Myers were standing together, ready to greet us.
After they hugged my parents, Nancy pulled me in for a hug. She always gave me the best hugs.
“Naomi, it’s been far too long,” the middle-aged woman cooed.
“I know,” I said, smiling. “Thank you for having us over.”
“Of course!” George rumbled, pulling me in for a tight bear hug. “I didn’t think we’d ever see you again after you got your bachelor’s from NYU,” he winked.
“Well, I’m here now,” was my reply.
“We’ve got food and wine in the sitting room,” George chortled. “Brian, you need to come check out the renovations we made to the pool deck.”
The parents walked through the doorway and moved straight toward the back of the house. I initially followed them, but stopped once I saw who was watching me from the stairs.
I had to admit, Joshua looked better than I remembered. He had coal-black dark hair with subtle stubble, which only emphasized that square jaw. Josh was always in good shape, but he’d gotten even more muscular than the last time we saw each other, emphasizing that perfect physique.
But right, this was Josh Myers and it was business as usual. He was wearing a smirk, those perfectly carved lips turned up at the edges. Plus, blue eyes gleamed, surveying my curvy form.
I stopped by the stairs, waiting for him to come down to meet me.
“Joshua,” was my low murmur.
“Naomi,” he replied.
We both had ice in our voices. I was tempted to ask him if he knew why our parents were so insistent on meeting, but there was no sense in getting into it. I just wanted to drink some wine, let our parents socialize, and then we could go back to ignoring each other.
* * *
If I’d known what was coming, I would have thought up some excuse instead of coming. But it was too late now.
We were all lounging together in the sitting room, eating cheese and crackers and sipping wine. Our parents were engaged in conversation while Joshua and I stayed glued to our phones. Occasionally, those blue eyes would glance my way, but anytime I’d look back, his eyes would return to his phone.
Eventually, our parents stopped talking.
“Kids, could you put the phones down and give us your full attention?” Nancy asked.
Grudgingly, we did as asked, still refusing to make eye contact with one another.
George looked to my parents. “Brian? Heather?”
Joshua and I looked to my parents.
“Well, I didn’t prepare a speech or anything,” my dad rumbled, looking a little nervous. Nancy stepped in then.
“I don’t mind leading the conversation,” said Josh’s mom in a chirp. “Feel free to jump in whenever prudent.”
This was weird. What was happening? Evidently, my counterpart was just as confused.
“Mom, what’s going on?” Joshua asked.
“Well, we wanted you kids to be here with us today because there’s something important on the books,” she said with a confident smile. “We think both of you kids are absolutely terrific, just the best of the best.”
What? Why all this praise? Joshua and I were both emitting palpable tension.
Nancy continued.
“Both of our families are—well, we don’t need to be modest, after all, it’s us—we’re on top of the world!” she laughed. “We’ve made impressive names for ourselves, not to mention built business empires.”
“And Naomi,” my mom interjected at me. “With you still looking for work, and with Joshua about to take over for George, we’ve all been talking. This is going to be a great idea.”
A sense of dread formed in the pit of my stomach.
“What’s a great idea?” I asked anxiously.
Nancy answered. “We’d like you and Joshua to be married within the next year.”
Total silence for a moment before Joshua spit out his drink, a spray of amber liquid shooting out in droplets. I burst out laughing, unable to stop myself.
“Yeah, okay,” I said through my giggles. “Are we being pranked?”
“I wasn’t making a joke, dear,” Nancy admonished. “This is totally serious.”
“We’d like for you and Joshua to be married by the end of next year,” my dad added. “It makes sense when you think about it, sweetheart.”
My mouth was agape, and Joshua looked like he’d just been punched in the face.
“What?!” he shouted.
“There’s no need to raise your voice, son,” said Nancy calmly. “It’s a shock but you’ll see that it’s for the best.”
“I think this is the perfect time to raise my voice,” the man growled.
I looked to my parents, flabbergasted. “Mom? Dad?”
My dad kept a robotic smile on his face, while my mom appeared conflicted. I looked around the room, lamenting that the only person that seemed like a normal human was Joshua.
George responded for my parents.
“Naomi, you’re a part of a prominent and wealthy family. Together, we could be a powerhouse if you and Joshua were married and having beautiful kids. Merging the company businesses and all that.”
I was shocked, unable to process what I was hearing. I didn’t feel like any of this was real, half-suspecting that our parents were playing a joke on us since they surely knew how we’d felt about each other.
“I don’t understand,” was my baffled murmur.
“Honey,” my mom said to me. “Joshua is a terrific young man. You’ve known him for such a long—”
“Have kids?” I interrupted belligerently. “Marry? Joshua? Are you fucking kidding me right now?”
“Naomi,” my dad growled.
“No, really,” I insisted. “Is this a joke? Where is this coming from? Please tell me you guys are just being funny.”
“We’re not being funny, Naomi,” my dad replied.
I huffed in reply, stuffing my phone in my purse before leaping up off the couch. “Okay. Well, you guys are kind of freaking me out right now, so I’m just going to go. I’m not going to sit here while you guys are going crazy.”
“Honey, please just stay, and let us talk more about this,” my mom said, standing up with me.
“Tell me where this is coming from then!” I demanded.
“Yeah, I’m with her,” Joshua finally growled, standing up. “I don’t think I’m gonna stick around, either. Sorry, Mom. Dad. I’ll talk to you guys later.”
“Hold on a second, guys,” said George, getting up on his feet as well. “The four of us chipped in, and we got a spectacular beach house in the Hamptons. It’s ours. It’s yours if you want.”
He dangled the option like a delicious fruit, and I have to admit I was tempted.
Joshua remained skeptical. “Okay…well what about it?”
“We’d like you guys to spend some time there together, just the two of you,” said my dad. “It really is a tremendous spot. Take some time, get to know each other, and don’t be so distant. You two have never really made an effort to get to know one another.”
“I know enough, thank you,” was my snap.
Joshua seemed slightly insulted, but didn’t linger on the slight. He looked over to his parents.
“If you guys want grandkids so badly, I’ll adopt a kid and let you guys raise it,” he said. “I’m not getting married, and I’m not listening to this shit anymore.”
There was an ominous pause.
“Really?” said George with a warning tone. “This is how you treat us after what we’ve done for you?” his dad growled. “After making sure that you always got the best, and you’ve never had to work a day in your life. We’ve never asked you for anything before, Joshua.”
“That’s not true,” he retorted, staring right back. “You want me to run the company.”
“I want you to run what I started,” said George. “I don’t want some stranger making decisions under the roof I built. You know the studio, son. It’s always been you.”
“Besides, you guys will really love the beach house,” my mom interjected cheerily. “You’ll have a great week together.”
“Ha!” I blurted. “A week? A full seven days? No, that’s impossible. I’m leaving. I’ll walk home.”
“For once, we agree about something,” said Joshua, following my lead.
“Joshua, what will you do without the trust fund?” George asked cryptically.
He and I both stopped, turning to face our parents.
“What do you mean?” the man growled.
“I mean, go to the Hamptons, spend time with Naomi. You two should have some fun together and really make an effort to get to know each other. Otherwise, we’ll have to discuss your trust fund,” George remarked almost casually.
“That’s kind of low, Mr. Myers,” I said in Joshua’s defense. “No offense, but it sounds like blackmail almost.”
“Not almost,” interrupted Joshua. “You’re saying you’re going to cut me off if we don’t go to the Hamptons?”
“You both will be cut off,” interrupted my dad.
My mouth hung open like a panting dog on a hot day, eyes goggling.
“What is the matter with you?!” was my shout. “You can’t do this! This is unfair!”
“Naomi, you know the Myers family—”
“Uh, apparently I don’t!” was my angry retort. “I don’t understand! Where is this coming from? What is this? The eighteen hundreds? People don’t do arranged marriages anymore!”
“That’s not entirely true, darling,” said Nancy. “Besides, don’t think of it like that. You’re both are getting older, and neither of you are in a serious commitment. What’s the harm?”
I glared at them, trying to communicate to his parents that I had no desire to be anywhere with their son. It was no use. The Myers didn’t care, so I swung to my parents instead.
“So, you’ll cut me off if I don’t go to the Hamptons with him?” I asked Heather and Brian.
My mom looked down at her feet, as my dad cleared his throat.
“Naomi, just go to the beach house,” he mumbled.
“Unbelievable,” I gasped. “Completely crazy.”
That seemed to shake my dad out of his stupor.
“Stop disrespecting your mother and me,” my dad said in a loud voice. “We’ve always taken care of you too, Naomi. We’re asking you to do what’s best for everyone. Don’t fight us, okay? Just go there for a week with an open mind and see what happens. All your expenses and arrangements have been made. Get there first thing in the morning, make an effort, and have a good time.”
I was beyond pissed, but what were my options? Besides a week at a beach house didn’t seem so bad. Surely, the property was big enough so that we’d be able to avoid one another.
“Fine,” said Josh in a surly voice.
“Fine,” I echoed, none to graciously.
And that’s how the steamiest, sexiest week of my life began.