"Erica, do you really think you should eat that?" my mom asked while she applied a third coat of mascara.
I swallowed the cheese ball with a little slug of champagne and popped another in for good measure. "The food here is fantastic," I mumbled with my mouth full. I grabbed a piece of artisan bread, slathering a hunk of butter on the flaky center.
"You've been eating non-stop since you got here," she said.
The vow renewal was scheduled to start in an hour. While my mom put the final touches on her hair and makeup, I lounged in her room imbibing in champagne and the complementary platter that had been delivered. I had been dressed and ready for hours.
After the bathroom incident, I had escaped to my room, too turned on to return to the table for breakfast. I hadn't even made it to the bed or shower. I'd dropped my shorts and brought myself to orgasm, with my back up against the door to my suite.
What was wrong with me? I'd hopped onto Dante's lap and ridden him like a sex-crazed lunatic. Granted, it had been more than a year since I'd so much as kissed a man. Convincing myself that my behavior was a symptom of sexual frustration and nothing more had grown increasingly difficult over the last few hours.
"Is that wise with your upcoming commitments?" my mom asked, interrupting my thoughts.
The diamonds dripping from my mother's ears and neck refracted the sunlight streaming in through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Coupled with the floral headband that played off her auburn hair and the sheer white robe, my mom looked like an old movie star from back when it was called the silver screen.
"I don't have any upcoming commitments."
My mom's face fell for a fraction of a second before all the Botox kicked in. She set her mascara down and turned to face me.
"What do you mean?"
"I quit."
"You quit what?"
"Everything."
After blinking several times, she rose and paced in front of me, her long legs chewing up the carpet. My mom still had a banging body for a woman in her fifties. God bless my genetics.
"Erica, I'm confused. You mean you quit Hot Shots?"
"Nope. Everything. I told my agent I was done. I have a few things to finish up, but then I'm done with the fashion industry. Forever."
"Darling, why didn't you discuss this with me or your father?"
Because I knew what you would say. And there was no way I was going to let you talk me out of it.
My mother took a lot of pride in my status as a model. It was another testament to how far she had come from her trailer park days. She'd been waitressing at a local diner in a small town when my dad stumbled in one night with several of his drunk friends. They hit it off, and my father rescued her from a life of poverty and low social standing.
"I'm an adult. I don't have to discuss my decisions with you or Dad."
"But, but"—she sputtered—"what are you going to do for money? Where are you going to live?"
"I've been saving since last year, and I still have all the money Grandpa left me. Damian said I could live with him for a few months."
"You're going to move to Seattle with your brother?"
"I'm just going to stay with him until I find a place of my own."
"So, you plan to remain in Seattle indefinitely?" The high-pitched hysteria creeping into her voice was almost comical.
"I'm not sure yet. I'm going to take some time to figure all that out," I replied with a shrug.
"Why can't you do that in New York? You shouldn't make any rash decisions right now."
"It isn't a rash decision. I've been planning my exit for over a year. I want to finish my degree."
My mom shuddered and threw her hand over her chest like I had proposed the most ludicrous thing. "Why don't you find a nice man to marry? You're stunning and young. You could have any man you want."
I smoothed down the silky material of my magenta halter dress. I didn't want to find a man to support me. I wanted to find a man who loved me for more than the way I looked draped on his arm. A man like Dante.
The way he had pulled me between his legs and tugged me down for a kiss had felt like coming home. I'd wanted to spend the rest of the day rediscovering those lips. If my brother hadn't come along, who knew what would have happened in that bathroom. All of the things that I wished had happened had me flushed from cheek to toe.
"Erica, did you hear me?"
"Oh, uh, yes. I'm sure that one day I'll find a nice man to marry."
That seemed to pacify her and she resumed her seat in front of the vanity.
"You know Dante is still single. Thank God he never let some gold-digger sink her claws into him. His signing bonus alone was reported to be in the millions. Apparently, he has been very responsible with his money since leaving the NFL."
"Have you been Googling Dante?"
"The point is, there are men out there like Dante who are a good catch financially and physically." She did her best to wiggle her eyebrows. "That boy has one hell of a body and a face to match. If I were twenty years younger, I'd give you a run for your money."
I burst into laughter. "Please stop. I don't need you waxing poetic about Dante. I'm well aware of his allure."
Too aware.
His words from that morning had been playing on repeat all day. Then let's find you. Like we were a team. A big part of me wanted that. I could use a friend, but it was clear that Dante wanted more than friendship.
I should have been jumping for joy. I finally had what I'd been pining for since I was a love-struck fourteen-year-old. But I worried that once Dante took what he wanted, I'd be left holding a broken heart. Worse than the one he'd left me with five years ago.
"You did always have a terrible crush on him. It was painful to watch, actually."
My mother's words stripped the smile right off my face. I downed the rest of my champagne and rose from the settee, teetering to the bar for another glass.
"Be careful with all those empty calories, darling. The older you get, the harder it is to battle the pounds."
Punching my mother on her big day would be in poor form, so I unclenched my fists and took a deep, calming breath. I turned around and gave her my brightest smile. "Time to get you dressed. We wouldn't want to keep your guests waiting."
***
The beach where the vow renewal was to take place was a picture-perfect setting away from the main resort. With black, volcanic cliffs in the background and the soothing sound of waves crashing nearby, the venue was pure romance. Rows of white chairs flanked a raised altar adorned with every type of indigenous flower available on the island. Strung lights and tiki torches lit a path across the beach.
My father and I greeted guests while a man dressed in native garb strummed a ukulele nearby. Before I even saw him, I sensed Dante's presence. Dressed in beige linen pants and a white button-down that hinted at his muscular torso, Dante looked impeccable. The man obviously still spent hours a week in the gym.
He caught my eye and smiled at me through the growing darkness. The languid path his eyes traveled over my body felt like a caress. I shifted beside my father and breathed a sigh of relief when Dante took a seat at the back.
Damian strode down the aisle with a grimace and Janice in tow. Janice looked amazing in a fitted, floral sundress that showcased her hourglass figure. She looked nervous and I was pretty sure it had something to do with the chat we'd had that morning. My father and Damian had always had a contentious relationship, but it had worsened since my grandfather died. I was pretty sure Janice was going to be fuel for the fire.
I strolled forward and greeted Janice with a big hug. "Relax, smile, and no matter what you do, don't let him get under your skin," I whispered in her ear before pulling away.
"Hello, Father," Damian said, shaking his hand with formality.
"So glad you could grace us with your presence," my father replied with a fake smile. "Your mother will be happy to see you."
"I know how much Mother cares about appearances."
"And I see you brought a date. Did you go to the escort service and ask for a clone of Amelia, or are blonde bimbos just your taste?"
Janice did have an uncanny resemblance to my brother's late wife, something I'd forced Damian to come clean about that morning. Damian took an angry step forward, but Janice stopped him with a firm hand on his forearm.
"Hello, Mr. Wood. I'm Janice Holder. Damian and I met at work. We're colleagues," she said with a bright smile.
My father laughed and clapped his hands together. "Is that what they call it nowadays? Screwing the secretary? That's my boy. Maybe there's hope for you after all."
"Daddy," I hissed. Heat rose in my cheeks and I wished I could sink into the sand and hide from the dismay plastered on Janice's face.
"I know it may be surprising, but not all women in the workforce are secretaries," Damian replied through gritted teeth. "But I guess you wouldn't know that, since you haven't worked a day in your life."
"How is that silly job of yours?"
"It pays the bills."
"Like you need the money," my father said with a disgusted snort.
"That's true. What with all the money your father left me," Damian said in a smug tone. "As much as I'd like to spend more time catching up, I'm sure you have other guests to attend to."
Damian gave me a nod, grabbed Janice by the elbow and turned to leave.
"I can tell you one thing, if she were flouncing around my office every day, nothing would stop me from bending her over my desk and-"
A menacing growl erupted from Damian's throat and he charged back toward my father. I stepped in front of my dad, because Damian looked angry enough to pummel him, and something told me my mom wouldn't appreciate blood splatter on my father's white suit. Janice stepped in front of Damian and placed both hands on his face.
"Look at me. Nothing he says matters. He's just a withered old man who has nothing good to show for his many wasted years on this planet except for his two wonderful kids who despise him."
She gave me an apologetic shrug. There was no need to apologize. My father deserved every ounce of her disgust.
With nostrils flared and hands fisted at his sides, Damian glared over her shoulder. My father's face was twisted into an ugly scowl and I breathed a sigh of relief when Janice pushed Damian back down the aisle.
"Jesus, Dad. Was that really necessary?"
My father smoothed his lapel and smiled at a passing couple. "Honey, run and get me a martini? I'm parched."