TWENTY-ONE

 

Look Who’s Making Plans Now

 

Harrison

 

 

I thought you should be the first to know that I'm completely in love. Well, I suppose Libby should probably have been the first person to know, but somehow telling her is far scarier. I've only been apart from her for three hours, and it feels like three months, which I'm guessing is a good sign. I have to guess because I’ve never felt this way before. I want to know everything about her, I want to hear her laugh and listen to her talk, and for the first time in my life, I can imagine why people want to have children. Because with her, having a family would be like a dream come true.

But before I can rush off and tell her how I feel, I need to get the oil leak on this truck fixed. I gave my mechanic, Charlie, today and tomorrow off so he could enjoy a long weekend with his family, and pretty much as soon as he left last night, oil started spewing all over the ground from this pickup. I’m currently in the non-airconditioned resort garage, lying on a creeper under the truck with oil, grease, and sweat covering my face. Luckily, I found the source of the problem pretty fast, but fixing it has been a real pain the arse. It’s taken me forty minutes to replace the cracked oil pan, but that’s okay, because Libby is busy finishing up her report.

To be completely honest with you — and this is not something I would ever tell Rosy or Will or Emma — there is a tiny part of me willing to sign the deal with GlobalLux so I can have her here for a few extra months. I know that sounds very selfish, and I promise I would only consider it if it was actually the best thing for my staff. Well, and for Libby and me.

That has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? Libby and me. Oh, shit. Now I sound like a lovesick teenage girl. I might as well throw on some bubble gum lip gloss and write Mr. and Mrs. Harrison and Libby Banks all over the inside of my Physics binder.

Footsteps interrupt my thoughts, and it doesn’t take long for me to figure out who they belong to.

“And where exactly have you been?” Rosy asks.

I slide out from under the pickup. “Right here fixing this truck,” I say, holding up my wrench. “Did you need me for something?”

“Don’t try to be cute with me. That stopped working when you were twenty. I meant where were you last night and all morning, and you know it,” she says, staring down at me from her arms-under-her-boobs stance.

“Trying to save the resort,” I say, then disappear under the truck, where it’s safe.

“You went off with Libby in a speedboat and didn’t come back for almost twenty-four hours.”

“If you knew that, why did you ask?”

“It’s more dramatic this way.”

I shake my head and smile at her answer. “I have a plan, Rosy, and if it works, we might be in good shape for a very long time.”

Another set of feet appear next to Rosy’s, and when I look over, I can see they belong to my sister, who's wearing pink flip-flops that show off her cupcake ankle tattoo.

“You found him?” Emma asks.

“Yes, but he's being awfully vague about what's going on. Maybe you can talk some sense into him,” Rosy says. “I need to go home and see my husband for a change.” With that, she walks away muttering to herself about learning not to bother.

I finish tightening the last bolt and slide out from under the truck. When I stand, Emma's giving me a dirty look.

“What's up your butt?” I ask as I place the tools back in the box and close the lid.

“It was my first night back in how many months, and you just disappear,” Emma says, planting a fist on her hip.

“Sorry about that. I thought I’d be back before dark. But I swear it was for the good of the resort.” I wipe the sweat off my face with a clean rag, then peel off my coveralls.

“What’s that mean? Where’d you go?”

“I took Libby out to look at a potential expansion site, then we got stuck in that big storm and had to stay the night there.” I look her straight in the eye, hoping she can't tell there's more to the story, because the last thing I need right now is for her to tell Wikileaks before I know for sure what Libby’s planning to do with the rest of her life.

Obviously, my poker face isn’t as good as I hoped, because Emma’s grinning and covering her mouth with both hands. “Oh my God! You love her!”

“It's strictly business, Emma.” Getting busy business…

“Ummhmm.” Emma raises one eyebrow.

“Strictly business.” I nod to confirm my answer.

“Ha, well, that's really interesting, because ‘strictly business’ seems to have left a hickey on your neck.”

I reach up, blushing a little and wincing as Emma laughs. “Please do not mention this to anyone, especially not to Rosy.”

“On one condition,” she says, folding her arms and reminding me of her bratty self at fourteen.

I roll my eyes. “What?”

“You admit you have feelings for her.”

“I have feelings about lots of people,” I say, starting toward the open overhead door. “Like you — I feel like you’re the most irritating sister on the planet.”

“Oh, stop trying to deny it. Everybody can tell you like her.”

“What do you know? You’ve only been back for a day, and you’ve seen me have a two-minute conversation with her, if that.”

“Yeah, but as soon as she got that yucky nose bleed, you were all, ‘here, baby, let me swoop in and save you.’”

“God, you’re such a child,” I say, shaking my head.

“Takes one to know one,” she says, sticking her tongue out at me.

“Really?”

“Yeah, well…you’re the one sporting the hickey!”

“It’s not a hickey. I must have walked into something.”

“Libby’s lips, perhaps?” she says with a huge grin. Jumping up and down, Emma claps her hands. “You’re finally going to get married!”

“Am not,” I say. “And why the hell are you so excited about the thought of me getting married, anyway?”

“Because once you have a wife, you’ll be too distracted to nag me all the time.”

“Oh, how wrong you are, little one. When I find a wife, I’ll make sure she’s willing to help me nag you. Now, I’m kind of in a hurry, so if you could lock up the garage for me, I’d appreciate it.”

“You’re going to see her, aren’t you? For more smoochie woochies,” Emma calls after me.

I wave her comment off and get in my golf cart, then take off before she can say anything more.

The entire ride back to my villa, I think about what I'm going to say and how I'm going to say it when I see Libby. Every nerve ending tingles with excitement as I plan out our evening together. Last night was incredible, but tonight I’m really going to sweep her off her feet. I’ll swing by the lobby and get the keys to the royal honeymoon suite, then order champagne and a four-course dinner served on the terrace. We’ll go for a midnight dip in the private infinity pool and make love until morning.

And if there’s any justice in this world, Libby Dewitt and I will have a very happy ending.

 

***

 

Text from Will: Bro, Emma’s on her way home. I meant to text you a couple of days ago, but I got busy (with a super-hot chick, haha). #goodluck