So, I finally did it. I finally had sex. As we docked up to the pier on the private island and marched off the yacht with the rest of his family, I couldn’t help but wonder if people could tell just by looking at me. I felt renewed and different. We finally got to the beach, our feet sinking into the sand. The sun was setting, casting a red hue all throughout the sky. I could see the water glimmering in the ever dimming light as it sloshed against the shore. It eroded the white sand that covered it. We strolled through the evening, hand in hand even though no one was watching us. Eventually, we came upon where the party was happening. There was a small outdoor bar pitched in the sand, manned by a short guy in a white shirt and tie. But the shelves behind it housed every kind of liquor I could imagine I wanted. Next to it was a spread of different foods with two people standing behind it, ready to serve anyone.

In the center of it all was a massive bonfire. Some of James’s extended family had already started to gather around it, sitting at the different lawn chairs that had already been set up. “Do you want me to get you something?” James asked once we had gotten to the fire.

I shrugged.

Neither of us had spoken much since we had sex. It was like we didn’t know what to say. It had happened. Something had shifted between us that we couldn’t take back. Even though it felt good, James was excellent in bed…I still couldn’t help wondering if things would work between us after this. What did he expect from me now?

When he walked to the bar, I stared into the red flames, letting the light smoke drift into my nostrils. I was thinking about James again…but before I could let my thoughts dwell too much, I saw Helen walking towards me. She looked a lot less intimidating without her heels. I reveled in how soft her features were without the lipstick and the jet straight hair. “Nancy, right?” She asked when she was within earshot.

I nodded, a bit guarded because I had no idea what this was about.

But then her smile got wider. “Are you waiting for James? My husband is by the bar too and… and well, I guess I don’t have anyone to talk to and I didn’t want to stand here looking lonely.”

I couldn’t help but grin at that. “Yeah, I know that feeling. When that happens to me, I just try not to see anyone. I figure if I’m not noticing anyone, no one is noticing me.”

She smiled. “That reminds me. I know my husband and your fiancé don’t get along, but I did want to say that you two look fabulous together. And I really do wish you all the best.”

At that moment, George shouted, “Helen!” She turned around to find him a little ways off, two drinks in hand. She waved at me and then left. Once she was gone, I gave myself full license to think about what she had just said. My day with James had made me realize that my feelings for him weren’t going anywhere and that just because I was ignoring them, it didn’t mean they weren’t going to keep getting stronger.

I found myself fantasizing about a life with him. I didn’t know what to do with these feelings and what they meant for us. A part of me wanted to just open up and tell him about them, just get it completely off of my chest. But then I thought about our contract. If I told him I didn’t want to do this anymore unless it was for real, if I was honest about how hard it was on me to pretend when I wasn’t really pretending at all, what would that mean for him? If we broke this contract, he could lose the job of his dreams and I wouldn’t get my studio. I couldn’t risk that without knowing if he cared about me, if he was willing to risk his job for me. I had to keep my mouth shut, for the sake of the both of us. That much was clear.

Soon enough, James came back with two margaritas and we found a place around the bonfire to sit and drink them. Even though I was so light-headed from my afternoon with him, James and I drank them pretty fast. Then in the rush of dizziness that followed, we ate a full plate of tacos and rice, just to drown it out. Finally, after the sun had set, we were back in our spots, totally relaxed, with two new drinks. I let my eyes shut, the warm, ocean air brushing over my skin, smiling at the calm. My heart ached with the thought that this moment wasn’t entirely genuine, that this weekend would forever be dampened by the weight of the contract that existed between us.

I turned to him, this question at the top of my mind. “Why do we have to do this anyway?” I asked.

He furrowed his brow, caught off-guard. “What do you mean?”

“Why do you have to take control of this company?”

His gaze narrowed, ever so slightly, his jaw stiffening. “Why are you asking me this now?”

I huffed a breath. “I just… I know that you have a fortune, and you have a good job already. You could make it on your own. I don’t see why you would be so hell-bent on having this company.”

James sat up straighter, stabbing at the ice in his drink with his straw. “Well, I have other reasons too.”

I clutched my glass, waiting for what he would say next.

“There’s a reason why I do investment banking…”

“Okay?”

“I know that I grew up with money, but my mom didn’t. She’s a self-made woman. And one thing she could never stop complaining about was how hard it is for a small business, or someone new and starting out, or someone who didn’t already have a small army of tycoons by their side, to make it big… I’ve always felt guilty… out of touch…”

“Guilty?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“And why shouldn’t I feel that way? Being rich is not a victimless phenomenon. Why should I have all the opportunities given to me, when other people slave away just to have one?”

I cast my gaze down. I couldn’t help but feel the connection to my situation. “So, what does this have to do with owning your uncle’s company?”

“Well, my parents felt the same way. They were both members of the board. My mom was the head of market research and my dad, the head of accounts for advertising. Together, they had this whole plan of slowly shifting Paris Inc to be friendlier towards smaller businesses. They wanted to support smaller business by charging them less, undoing the advertising bias that ensures that the little people never get heard.”

“Little people?” I didn’t miss the inherent bias in that statement.

He caught what I meant by that. “I just mean, those who wouldn’t stand a chance against, let’s say, Kelloggs, on the shelf of a grocery store.”

I nodded, my heart swelling at all of this. “That’s really… noble.”

His chest rose with his heavy breath. “It was. They were really passionate about making sure that good artists and inventors don’t get silenced by bigger companies looking to monopolize the industry. It’s just better for the rest of the world that way.”

“Wow,” I breathed. “So, you want to take over the company so that you can…”

“Do the work they started doing.”

I sighed, leaning back in my chair and gazing up at the stars. Eventually, our hands found their way back to each other again. My heart thudded in my chest, butterflies in my stomach, eyes watering, because I was just so overwhelmed. For the first time, I could really say that I believed in his dream.

I believed in him, and it was more important than my feelings for him.