“Summoned?”
“We’re expected at the park in fifteen minutes,” she said. “Something for Bailey.”
“Oh!” I said. “At the park? God, I sound like a parrot, I’m sorry. What’s going on?”
“Don’t know,” Leo said, hands on Micah’s shoulders. “But we all got a text to show up, so we thought we’d swing by and see if you wanted to ride.”
“We’re in my truck,” Thatcher said, forcing me to look up.
That was both my downfall and my fuel, because he was glazed over, showing nothing. He was still ticked. Good. That was helpful. I cleared my throat and gave them all a once-over. They weren’t dressed up, but they weren’t as dressed down as I was.
“Do I need to change?”
“Nope, let’s go,” Micah said, waving at my mom as she turned.
“You wouldn’t tell me if I did,” I muttered, poking her in the back as we filed out.
“Of course I would,” she countered. “And you look adorable.”
“For curling up on a couch,” I said. I could feel Thatcher behind me and we weren’t even touching. “Anybody else coming?” I asked.
“Everyone,” Leo said, opening the back door for Micah. Because, of course in this grouping, I’d be up front. I could have gotten in the back seat with them and let him be chauffeur, but I figured that might be rude.
“Everyone, as in the whole town?”
“As in, the ten of us, as far as I know,” Micah said after we were in and shut the doors.
“What ten?” Thatcher asked.
My door opened as I was buckling up.
“Hey, y’all headed to the park?” Carmen asked, out of breath. “Can we ride with you? We walked to clear our heads after last night, but I’m done for. I’m Carmen, by the way, I swear I know these people.”
“She’s done for,” Sully said, laughing. “And has no qualms about getting in strangers’ vehicles.” He leaned over me and shook Thatcher’s hand. “Sully Hart. Sorry, man, we’re operating on zero sleep. Our manners aren’t normally this bad.”
“Thatcher Roman,” he responded. “Micah’s brother. And no problem, get in,” he added, lifting the console and giving me a look. “I can fit one more in front and one in back.”
Meaning I got to slide over next to him, as Carmen got in next to me. My left thigh landed against his warmth, and his smell along with the leather of his jacket enveloped me in a sensory overload.
God, what I wouldn’t give to be dressed like that girl I didn’t want to be earlier. I looked like a softball coach. Nothing said sexy like sweatpants and sneakers.
“I’m so sorry you had to find him like that, Sully,” I said. “That must have been awful.”
Sully cast his eyes downward and shook his head slightly.
“I never want to see anything like that ever again,” he said, his jaws tightening. “Mother fucker had to go and die alone like that.”
I didn’t bring up seeing him in the park. I didn’t understand it, and was beginning to question my own sanity, so I decided to keep that to myself until I could talk to Lanie.
“So, to answer your question, Thatch, it’s me and Leo,” Micah said as we left, counting off on her fingers. “Nick and Lanie, Bash and Allie—you met them at Rojo’s. Sully and Carmen, and you and Gabi.”
It wasn’t lost on me that every one of those were couples, and that being pressed up next to him right now, it very much felt like we were one. Or maybe that was just me projecting my anxiety over being close to him again. I chanced a glance at his profile, and realized just how messed up this had become. Drew was right. I had it bad.
We passed a neon pink heart-shaped poster with Bart and Dixie smiling on it, today’s date emblazoned under their faces in a glittery font. No, they had it bad. That was fucking nauseating.
“Oh my God, did you see that?” Carmen asked, looking at me in horror.
“Can’t help it, they’re everywhere,” I said. “Dixie’s probably vying for them to be the new Honey King and Queen next year.” I snorted. “I hope they do, Bart would despise that.”
“How was your vacation, Carmen?” Micah asked. “I mean, other than how it ended.”
“Awesome,” she said. “Spain was phenomenal. Greece took my breath away. And don’t even get me started on the Mediterranean water. Oh, my God.”
“She was ready to move to each place we went,” Sully said.
“I’ll go anywhere that you’re with me, my love,” she called back over her shoulder.
“That’s a deal,” he said.
“Women threw themselves at Sully’s feet everywhere we went,” Carmen said. “I had to be on my A game, or he might have traded me in for a spicy little Greek beauty.”
“You’re all the spice I can handle,” he said, laughing, reaching over the seat to pinch her ear.
“I heard you two got engaged!” Carmen said, twisting in her seat. “And that I missed quite the proposal.”
“Oh my God,” Micah said, groaning into her hands behind me. “So embarrassing.”
“It was fine,” Leo said, chuckling.
“It was fine for you,” Micah said. “You were amazing and sexy and adorable. I was pale, sickly, with my head twisting all the way around, spewing the devil. And—speaking of every woman wanting you? Every female in Rojo’s wanted to have your babies that night, even the ones over sixty playing Bunko.”
“I have to say, it was pretty awesome,” I said, turning. “Leo pulled out all the stops.”
When I attempted to twist in my seat, my left hand landed on Thatcher’s thigh for leverage. The first second and a half, I didn’t even register what I’d done, the familiarity feeling absolutely normal, like we were a couple. Then his subtle inhale triggered my more basic instincts. Like jerking my hand back as if something bit me.
“Sorry,” I whispered, while Micah and Carmen gushed over her ring.
Thatcher just shook his head and didn’t look at me.
This was new.
We pulled up to the park, with the gazebo and entrance to the Lucky Charm and the boardwalk framing a view of the water beyond it.
“Okay, we’re here, guys,” Thatcher said. “Anyone know what we do next?”
“All I know is we report to the boat dock down by my office building,” Sully said.
Once upon a time, Bailey’s Pond was nothing but just that. A really large pond, coasted by rocks and grass and wildflowers. Old, decrepit rowboats resided down off the park, and wherever people left them. Since the build of the Lucky Charm mini theme park and boardwalk, Sully bought new little rowboats that didn’t look like one might fall right through them. They were still free to use at will, as long as they were brought back and tied up. I had my doubts on how long that would hold up.
We all glanced toward the pavilion and gazebo as we passed them, I noticed. I silently gave homage to Mr. Bailey as I did, remembering our one and only conversation there. Sully and Carmen led the way, holding hands like royalty leading their subjects through the gates of their theme park. Micah and Leo were behind us, linking fingers and walking the walk of the annoyingly in love. Thatcher and I took up the awkward middle, walking with probably a yard between us, me slightly ahead, even with my short legs.
Something had shifted in the dynamic between us since last night. Our fight was still with us. But where I thought I held such higher ground on the topic, and expected him to apologize to me, he was silent. Where I half expected him to chase me in his sexy subtle way, he wasn’t.
I wasn’t familiar with silent, sulky, sullen Thatcher. Or with being unsure about whether I was wrong. I usually knew full well if I was in the right or if I rotted. He’d been a jerk, telling me I was letting Bart still pull my strings. But something Drew said, about how the argument in my head had gone from being about Micah and the business, to whether or not we could do the wild thing without feelings—that had me questioning my own stand. Him still being ticked off at me added a whole new level of confusion.
We made it through the gate, and two major things caught my attention on the water. A sexy black mini cruiser yacht, and a white party yacht. The white one was draped with multi-colored flowers and straw cowboy hats, a bigger version of the heart poster with their names in a giant font, and the whole vessel looked to have been shot with a glitter gun. The wedding boat. Fantastic.
They both looked ridiculously out of place on this body of water, next to a roller coaster.
“Oh, look,” I said. “It’s like Vegas came to Charmed.”
“Ignore it, Gabi,” Micah said from behind me. “They aren’t even worth your bad thoughts.”
A skinny guy holding a gelato for his wife while she dug in a purse gave me a second glance as I passed him.
“Hey, aren’t you Mr. Larson’s wif—um, ex-wife?” he asked.
Pristine timing.
“Do I know you?” I asked, my feet pausing.
“No, I just—I was there the other day,” he said. At my blank stare, his face turned red, and he glanced at his wife, who hadn’t looked up. “You know. Outside the elevator.”
Realization dawned, and new nausea arrived.
“Ah,” I said. “When I showed all of you my boobs.”
The wife looked up. “What?”
“Did you enjoy that?” I continued, letting the stupid-ass dickwad who had the nerve to say that to me, much less with his wife standing there, flounder in his own moron pool. “You can thank your boss for that, he inspired me. Want to see them again?”
The wife jerked her husband’s arm so hard, I was surprised he went with it instead of it popping off in her hand.
“No?” I called after them. “Okay, nice to meet you!”
“Gabi Graham, what on earth did you do?” Carmen whispered conspiratorially, circling back around.
“I might have flashed Bart’s entire office as a last fuck-you to him the other day,” I said. “After I found out he’d let my house go into foreclosure.”
“Oh, I love you,” Carmen said, wrapping her arms around me. “You and Lanie and your boobs. Y’all are my kind of people.”
“What kind of people have a black yacht?” Leo asked, squinting against the sun.
“Excuse me, are you all here for the Albert Bailey memorial?” a man said, approaching us in a black suit and black captain’s hat.
I felt my mouth drop open. “A memorial? That’s what we’re doing?”
“Here?” Carmen said.
“Your friends are already inside,” the man said, gesturing down the boardwalk. “If you will.”
“Inside where?” Sully asked.
“I think we’re about to get an answer to your question, Leo,” Thatcher said.
He pointed with a jut of his chin toward the black boat at the end of the dock emblazoned in gray letters advertising The Diamond, where Allie and Lanie were waving from the back deck. Port? Starboard? Aft? I had no idea. I was more amazed to see two people I knew on a yacht.
“Holy shit,” I whispered, now next to Micah. “We are going to a memorial on a yacht for the richest person on earth, and I’m wearing sweats.”
“Well, on the upside,” she said under her breath. “It’s all just us, so nobody important is witnessing it.”
The inside of this puppy was just as sleek and luxurious as the outside, with rich buttery leather furniture and wood accents. Trays of alcohol and sparkling waters and perfectly cut sandwich squares and cream cheese spirals filled a table, alongside etched glass plates. It was very male and very expensive, and could only belong to one person.
“So, this is Mr. Bailey’s, obviously,” I said, after hugging Allie and a very uncomfortable looking Lanie. “And yet I’m one hundred percent positive I’ve never seen it put in on this pond.”
“A thousand percent,” Lanie chimed in, massaging her belly on one side and gripping a rail that went the circumference of the room.
“You okay?” I asked her.
She gave a weak wave. “Just some Braxton-Hicks. No big deal. Been having them for the past two weeks.”
“Mr. Bailey keeps her in a private marina on Lake Livingston, a few hours from here,” the captain-man-in-black said. “This was a special occasion.”
“He left?” Sully asked. “He went to Livingston?”
“Often,” the man said, nodding. “Probably once a month, weather permitting. Not quite so much, recently. He enjoyed it immensely.”
“Damn,” Sully said under his breath.
“Were you always the captain?” Allie asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, straightening his hat. “I came with The Diamond when Mr. Bailey purchased her—some twenty years back. He’s made improvements over the years, but she’s definitely still my pride and joy.” He stepped forward suddenly. “Forgive me, my name is Captain Ronald Stone. Mr. Bailey enjoyed calling me Captain Ron, and I hope you’ll feel free to do the same.”
“You were friends,” Sully said.
Captain Ron opened his mouth and then smiled and closed it again.
“As much as he’d allow me to be, sir,” he said.
Sully nodded and shook his hand. “I get that.”
“Are we ready to push off?” he asked.
“We’re pushing?” Lanie asked. “I mean, it’s a large pond, granted, but we’ll hit the other end in about five minutes. Or does this thing sprout wheels, too? Are we hitting land and going somewhere secret?”
“No, ma’am,” Captain Ron said with a chuckle. “Just pulling out to the middle and down a bit and around the turn.”
“Are we going to his house?” Carmen asked, looking a bit fearful.
“No, ma’am,” he said. “We aren’t disembarking, but we will be within visual. It was Mr. Bailey’s wishes that this occur away from the eyes of the public, but where he could see it,” he added, using finger quotes.
“Private, even in death,” Leo said quietly.
“Yes, sir,” Captain Ron said. “Extremely.”
We left the dock, and the first thing I did was grab a tiny sandwich square and insert myself on a curved couch, directly between Allie and Lanie. I couldn’t stand another moment of being the couple that wasn’t. I needed to just be one of the group, even if I did feel every move Thatcher made as if we were connected by an invisible string.
Within minutes, we stopped, and through the narrow windows to the right, I saw a wooded cove fronted by a tiny dock.
“Yep,” Carmen said, peering out the window. “We haven’t been there in a while.”
Sully chuckled. “It would be a little chilly right now. Maybe this summer.”
“They used to skinny dip off that dock when they were teenagers,” Lanie whispered rather loudly.
“Possibly more recently than that, if you recall,” Carmen whispered just as loudly back, bringing some chuckling.
“So,” Allie said, glancing around rather tentatively. “Word is that Bailey died—weeks ago?” she asked. My body tensed, tuned to see what the responses would be.
Sully raked a hand through his hair and sighed. “The coroner on site told me her guess was two to three weeks. The medical examiner called early this morning to tell me the lab results calculated twenty-two days.”
“Shit,” Allie said, shaking her head at Bash.
“Which puts him dying the same day we left on vacation,” Sully said. “No guilt there.”
“Where was the medical service that was supposed to give him his medicine and shit?” Nick asked.
The door that Captain Ron had disappeared through reopened, quieting everyone like we were kids caught talking in class, and he came back down the four steps to our little sunken living room of sorts. Opening a large cabinet armoire, he exposed a flat screen television and pulled a remote from a drawer.
“He fired them,” Sully continued quietly. “They told me he fired them almost immediately, that he gave them his cell phone and a sealed letter and an address and told them to leave and mail it all and not come back, and not to call me. That he would take care of himself.”
“And a reputable business would just do that?” Micah asked.
Sully cast his focus to her. “They said it was done with a handshake.”
“Oh,” Allie said quietly.
“You might not have heard the rumor, myth, legend, whatever about Bailey,” Sully said to Micah. “But I’m telling you straight out from personal experience, that weird shit went down whenever he touched people. I—can’t explain it,” he said, holding up his hands. “But he knew it, so if he asked to shake their hand to make a deal, then he had a purpose, and it could easily have been to make them not call me.”
“The package came to me,” Captain Ron said, not looking away from the screen as he pressed buttons on the remote. He glanced our direction. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to eavesdrop, but I feel it’s relevant to what you’re about to see.”
Before anyone could ask another question, the screen illuminated and there he was. Old Man Bailey, in living color.
“Shit,” Sully muttered under his breath, running a hand over his face. Carmen looped an arm through his for support.
Bailey didn’t look quite as healthy as he had out at that gazebo. He wore flannel pajamas with a black robe, and black rimmed glasses, and he looked pale and frail as he peered down his nose through them.
“Okay—” I began. “Before we start this, Captain Ron, I need to interrupt for a second. I know the timeline is impossible, but—”
“I have an impossible but, too,” Lanie said, grimacing and readjusting her position.
“Me, too,” Thatcher said, bringing all heads around to him.
He hadn’t spoken a word since we got on the boat. He hadn’t taken a seat, choosing instead to take a stance against the entryway, arms folded over his chest. He still wouldn’t look my way, and I found myself ridiculously bothered by that.
“Something is seriously off the rails here if he died twenty-two days ago,” he said, pointing at the screen, “because I’ve never met Albert Bailey, but I just met that man last night.”