“AS YOUR FRIEND AND your consultant for ‘Operation Bone Grady James,’ I am giving you this advice, first you need to get your nails done, then your hair and you must stop by La Vienne Rose for some sexy French lingerie pieces,” Afton instructed over the phone. “And make sure you’ve waxed.”
“Oh my God, I am not sleeping with him. But, for your information, I’ve already been buffed and waxed.”
Sure, I’d fantasized about Grady, but over more than his body, I wanted his mind. It’s a different kind of intimacy to have someone who understands your mind. Things with Grady were interesting, he offered more than just a pretty boy smile and an ass that wouldn’t quit.
“He’s taking you to Palmetto Bluff. It’s beautiful, secluded and romantic—that place oozes sex. Grady will have no problem charming the panties right off you.”
“So, you’re saying that I’m easy,” I joked.
“No, but he did ask you to be his fake girlfriend. And in my opinion, he absolutely wants to sleep with you.”
Rolling my eyes, I pivoted on my heel and slid right into the display case of lemons and limes at the market. My shopping basket managed to hook the edge causing an avalanche of citrus fruit, nearly taking out a family of four.
Shit. I didn’t even say goodbye I just killed the call and dropped my phone into my bag. Mortified didn’t even begin to describe how I felt.
A little boy traipsed up to me and handed me a lemon. “Mommy likes these in her adult beverages too.”
The mom gave me a nod and mouthed, “Aisle twelve.”
Booze, here I come.
I’d seen better days. In under an hour, the morning went from bad to worse. I managed to break the heel of my favorite pair of shoes. The cherry on top was dumping a large iced coffee all over the side of my new car. As much as I hated to admit it, agreeing to go away with Grady might have set a series of unfortunate events in motion.
Perhaps this was the universe’s way of telling me I’d made a mistake. After a ten minute freak out session, and downing a glass of champagne, I searched the internet in desperation to replace my shoes. I hoped that I could order them and have them delivered to the hotel where we were staying.
Sold out.
Not the color I needed.
Had the color, but not in my size.
Instead of throwing my laptop into Afton’s pool, I decided to walk away slowly. A stroll along the beach would take my mind off my crappy day. The one thing about being near the water is that it calms the soul. Wading into the water, I watched as my feet sank deeper into the sand.
Thunder rumbled in the distance, as the clouds swirled and chased away the sun. I walked so long I hadn’t noticed the mass number of beachgoers had dissipated. Looking up at the sky, a droplet of water hit my cheek. My eyes redirected to the ocean, to see the storm approaching.
I darted back down the beach to Afton’s place. My lungs burned and my quads ached as I pushed myself further. I needed to take up running again apparently. Thunder boomed, doing its best to unleash the rain.
I made it back to Afton’s place just before the sky ripped open and unleashed a downpour.
Was it too early to just go to bed?
I had to finish packing because Grady was picking me up in twenty minutes. Fuck. I had some major outfit changes to make in a little amount of time.
Our car pulled up to the front of a beautiful white house that oozed classic Southern style. It reminded me of something out of a movie with its white columns and old street lamps. Once the driver unloaded the luggage, our butler took them to our rooms—separate accommodations.
After dumping my handbag onto the bench at the end of the bed, I flopped forward. I landed on the cozy comforter and grasped all the icy white softness I could. This king bed was like a dream, and I didn’t want to move. As I rolled onto my side I couldn’t focus on anything other than Grady. Staring out the window, I drank in the sight of the lagoon and the grounds.
Afton was right, this place is romantic. The first day of summer did not disappoint.
“Mr. James,” I heard our butler, Vernon, call out from the hallway. “The car will arrive in forty minutes to take you and Miss Trembley to the polo grounds.”
“Thank you, Vernon.”
“My pleasure. May I get you a drink, sir?”
I couldn’t make out Grady’s response, but I knew that I needed to freshen up. Haven had emailed our itinerary, and first up was the charity polo scrimmage match, followed by a cocktail reception. I’d purchased the perfect dress to wear to the polo event: a navy and cream striped dress with a belt at the waist. La Vienne Rose.
Knock. Knock.
At the sound of rapping against the door, I looked up from the bed to see Grady leaning against the doorjamb—shirtless. It took everything inside me to not let my eyes bug out of my head.
“I see that you are making yourself comfortable,” he smirked.
Propping myself up on my elbow, I smiled. “This bed is something else, and the view of lagoon is breathtaking.”
“It is.” He glanced at his watch. “Well, you better hustle, we have to leave soon.”
As I eased up off the bed, Vernon appeared in the doorway carrying a tray which held champagne and sparkling water. Grady smiled at me, and I shook my head.
After the glasses were poured, and Grady offered Vernon a glass of sparkling water, the three of us raised our glasses in a toast. Grady James was full of surprises. I really liked that about him.
I had a front row seat under a white canopy to admire my sexy roommate for the next few days. Gazing around the arena, my fingers traced over the neatly pressed linen. I spotted him right away in his navy and white jersey with the number four emblazed on the back. He looked regal, and handsome on horseback. Just as I imagined.
The smack of the mallet lashed out like a thunderbolt, sending my heartbeat drumming in my ears. The horses galloped up and down the field in an exuberant fashion. Expertly hooking his stick around the opposing player, Grady swung in defense. The ball was knocked away, and they raced back up the field. Grady’s arm swung back in perfect forehand shot form. The ball flew to player number three allowing him to score with ease. Whistles and cheers of appreciation erupted from the crowd. After six chukkas, the match came to an end.
The players dismounted, and handed over their equipment. I sipped my drink, the specialty cocktail was an Elderflower Spanish Gin and Tonic. In the distance, the bright blue sky began to dim to a light grey.
“Well, well, if it isn’t my little Harlot.”
Fuckity fuck, fuck, fuck it all. I knew that goddamn voice—a voice that was attached to bad memories and laced with venom.
My father would have the ability to turn blue skies grey. “I’m not your anything. My name is Harlow, and in your old age you’ve probably forgotten the correct pronunciation. Shouldn’t you be jerking off somewhere else?”
He took a seat in the empty chair to my left and I scanned the crowd looking for Grady. “Sitting all alone are you?’
“Actually, this table was reserved for me, privately,” I said, gesturing to the card with my name on it that sat in front of a vase filled with an artful arrangement of delphiniums, roses, hydrangeas and hyacinths.
“Spreading your legs for a few polo players, are you?” he asked jutting his chin towards the field. Embarrassment flooded through me at my father’s words. My eyes landed on Grady, he was chatting with the player wearing the number three jersey.
“God, you are a piece of work. Do you think that it’s okay to speak to me that way?” I asked, feeling my cheeks heat.
Monty got to his feet, and leaned close. “Are you a lesbian or slut like that whore mother of yours was? I can’t imagine any man with any decency that would come sniffing around your worthless fat ass.” My father should take a good long look in the fucking mirror at his portly physique.
The fat ass comment stopped bothering me long ago. I wasn’t fat. Worthless, now that was another story. It was hard to feel self-worth when the man who was supposed to be your father didn’t even care about you as a human being. I had the desire to scream and shout that he was wrong. That there was a man interested in me and he was standing across the field, but I suppressed my urge. The man didn’t earn any right to the details about my life. He lost that a long time ago.
He strode off laughing and that’s when I caught a glimpse of his latest gold digger. I watched as the two of them rubbed elbows and sipped champagne with some of the most elite members of the polo society, a mass of power players—politicians, entrepreneurs, and celebrities. Couldn’t these affluent people see what a terrible person Montgomery Sinclair was? I wondered if they would care about the fact that he’d disowned his children. All the money in the world and my father was the least classy person that I knew.
Seething with aggravation, I downed my drink and then motioned for another. Perhaps my mother had it right when she started drinking before noon. Staying aloof was probably the only way she could tolerate my father when they were married.
Forget the drink. I needed to get out of here. Pushing to my feet, I grabbed my purse and walked briskly to the main tent. The people all blurred together and my mind wandered to Grady. How would I even begin to explain my father to him?
I hated telling Harry about my father and what he’d done to me. The thought of telling someone else I was estranged from my father, and the fact that he disowned us, was an awful feeling. Sickness swirled in the pit of my stomach. Tears welled in my eyes, as much as I tried to push them down.
“Harlow, hey,” Grady called out to me.
I stopped near the bar of the main tent, and held the tears at bay. Turning around I plastered a smile onto my face. “Hi, nice match. Congratulations on the win.”
“Thanks, are you leaving?” His brow furrowed. “You should stick around for the trophy ceremony.” He hooked his thumb back towards the field.
“Um,” I paused, feeling blush spread across my neck. “I would but I’m not feeling all that well. I think I’ll just go back to the house.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. In that case, let me grab my gear and I’ll go with you.”
God, why are you so damn sweet.
“No, you stay. You played well, you deserve to celebrate,” I replied. “Thanks again for inviting me, Grady, and congratulations.”
I slipped through the crowd, and made my way towards the valet to call for our driver. It was better this way. I’d spare him the agony of my sour mood that would lead to a conversation wherein I spent all evening complaining about my father and revealing dirty family secrets.
It’s better this way.