IT’S BEEN A LONG time since I felt complete and total relaxation. At least I had been relaxed until Heather Young burst through doors of the main house chased by Augustin and two men wearing grey shirts and dark shorts. Neither of whom, I’d seen before.
“Heather, what the hell are you doing here?” Grady yelled.
Heather struggled against Augustin’s hold, as he brought her front and center like a prisoner. Grady nodded to Augustin who then released the hold he had on her. I stood motionless, rooted to my spot. Stunned, was the most accurate feeling I could describe seeing Heather standing mere feet from me. The bags under her eyes were visible. She looked as if she hadn’t slept in days. Her blonde hair was pulled up in a messy ponytail. Red marks donned her neck and chest.
A sick feeling spread through me, making me cold. Suddenly I understood—she was high.
How did she know that we were here?
Heather shot me an icy glare. “Yeah, you stay right there—slut,” she spat. Her words were delivered harsh and slightly broken.
When Grady approached Heather, she attempted to step back only to find herself stumbling into the back of the couch. “Heather, I’m going to ask you again, what are you doing here?”
Shaking her head, and pushing up from the back of the couch she inhaled deeply. “You brought her, here,” she sobbed, pointing at me. “You have the nerve to bring her here?”
Grady shook his head. “You aren’t a part of my life anymore. We’re not married.”
Confused I stared at Grady, irritation and sadness passing over his face. Heather’s eyes darted between the two of us and I swore my heart stopped for half a second. She is unwell.
“But, why here?” she asked, the words were half-whine, half-cry.
“Because she is my girlfriend, that’s why I brought her here.”
Heather’s hands spread wide in front of her. “That’s just great, Grady, bringing your mistress to our vacation home,” she cried, sounding the same level of insane.
“Heather, we’re not married anymore, remember?”
“We spent our anniversary here, we are married!”
Dread sank into the pit of my stomach, the feeling eerily resembling the moments before Harry dumped me. Grady rushed to me, gripping my wrists. My eyes fell to his forearms, something about those shirtsleeves rolled up showcasing his strength knocked me out of my headspace every time.
“Harlow, look at me,” he said, his eyes filled with concern. “Trust in me, please.”
Hearing his words, I nodded. “Of course.”
“Thank you,” he whispered, his hands framed my face. “I’m sorry she’s here. Did I mention that I own this place?”
“I think you left that part out of the tour.” I reached for him, weaving my fingers through his hair. “I want to kiss you, but given the current situation, I’ll refrain.”
His eyes brightened. “I have words. So many things I want to say . . .”
My hands fell to his shoulders, kneading the thick cords of his muscles. Tension lingered, but I felt it all evaporating under my touch. “I know, me too,” I whispered.
A sharp thunderous crack echoed. My head jerked to find broken pieces of white porcelain surrounding Heather’s feet. Augustin lunged at her just as she picked up a jagged piece from the vase she’d destroyed. Knocking it from her grip, Augustin held onto her as one of the men slapped flex-cuffs around her wrists. The other man, who I now realized was a security guard, had moved to stand by Grady and me, that’s when my eyes focused on his gun.
“Let me go!” she screamed, thrashing and kicking her feet against the tile.
Grady’s blue eyes searched my face. “She’s not my responsibility, anymore, but . . .”
I nodded, smoothing my hands over his grey t-shirt. “But, it would be cruel not to get her the help she needs.” My fist pounded against his chest. “I understand, Grady. I do,” I said, reassuring him.
“God, I . . . how . . . how did I get so lucky to have you in my life?”
I knew what he wanted to say, but he couldn’t for obvious reasons.
“Is there anything I can do to help? Call anyone?”
Lifting my hand to his mouth his lips brushed the back of my knuckles. “No, but thank you.”
He looked over towards the seating area. I followed his gaze. Heather writhed against Augustin’s firm grasp, tears spilling down her face. My heart went out to her. Grady raked a hand through his hair, and then turned away from me. Goosebumps swept across my skin, I’d never seen him look so pained.
AFTER I PERSUADED THE highly-recommended doctor with an expensive fee to leave his golf game to give Heather a drug test, my security team took her to a guest house to sleep it off.
I didn’t want Harlow to be here while I dealt with this matter, so I had Augustin arrange for her to spend the remainder of the afternoon being pampered. Harlow offered to stay. She even offered to talk to Heather—woman to woman. In Heather’s mental state, I wasn’t willing to risk it, although I appreciated the thought.
I walked into the study, and then fired up the laptop. This was a delicate matter and I needed it handled with as much discretion as possible. A message from Haven lit up my phone, it contained all the details for the treatment facility. It had all been arranged. Thank you, Haven.
Swiping the screen on my phone, I dialed Heather’s assistant, Drew. I didn’t wait for him to speak. “Heather’s in Turks and Caicos, and she’s using again. There’s a first-rate rehab facility in Georgia, she’s going there as soon as possible. I’m sending you the information, and I need you to be there when she arrives.”
“I don’t work for Heather anymore,” he informed me.
“Since when?”
“Since she fired me,” he said hoarsely. “After the cheating story came out.”
I took a deep breath. “I’m hiring you for the foreseeable future. If you have plans cancel them.”
Once I squared things away with Drew, Alex was next on my call list. I walked over to the bar in the corner of the room and then poured a glass of scotch.
“Is the vacation that bad that you needed to call me? Are you in jail? Fuck, you got married, didn’t you?”
“You’re a funny guy, Robertsen,” I said, staring down at the liquid in my glass. “Actually, my ex-wife is here, she showed up unannounced, obviously.”
Instinctually, the man trained with superior interrogation skills launched into a fuck ton of questions. I filled him in on the whole insane debacle.
“That’s fucked up, how did she even know that you were there?”
“Harlow’s Instagram.”
“Damn social media, one of the best and worst inventions ever.”
“Yeah, no kidding,” I laughed a humorless laugh. “Would it be possible to send a jet here so that I can get Heather back to the states?”
I heard tapping against a keyboard. “Sure, anything you need, man. You okay?”
“Fine for a guy whose ex-wife crashed his vacation with his current girlfriend.”
Alex laughed. “And how’s your girl?”
“Well, she didn’t runaway or kick me in the balls,” I replied. “Harlow is . . . the best—understanding, caring, and supportive.”
“Ah yeah, I’ve been there my friend, there’s nothing better than a woman who can handle a difficult situation with compassion rather than with jealousy and animosity.”
I knew that Alex understood. He’d gone through a difficult time during the beginning of his relationship with Ella. Instead of giving up on him, she stayed knowing that he needed her. As my grandmother used to say, “Work on me, before becoming we.”
“Okay, you are all set,” he said, “I’ve just emailed the details and the flight itinerary. Heather will be out of your hair in a matter of hours.”
“Thanks, man, it can’t come soon enough.” I ended the call and tossed my phone onto the desk. I swallowed the remains of my drink. “Time to have a chat with my ex-wife.”
I instructed Harvey and Isaac, the security guys, to stay close. I found Heather sitting on the terrace, a plate of untouched fresh fruit and a mug of coffee on the table. I settled into the chair across from her, still unsure of where to begin. Her hair was wet from the shower, and she’d changed into neon pink t-shirt with “Turks & Caicos” printed on the front and a pair of denim shorts.
“Do you feel better?” I asked, sliding a bottle of water across the table.
She hadn’t looked at me since I walked onto the terrace. “Not really.”
“No, I suppose you don’t.” I leaned back, tapping my finger to the table. “I fast tracked your drug test. The doctor said, with the amount of drugs in your system, he’s concerned that you’re heading down a path to overdose.”
With her eyes still trained on the floor, she lifted a shoulder. “Would you care if I did?”
“If you don’t care enough about yourself, how am I supposed to care?”
“I know that you hate me, and you don’t owe me a thing.”
“Heather, I don’t hate you—it takes a lot of energy to hate someone. It’s exhausting.”
“Don’t,” she breathed. “Please don’t be nice to me. I don’t deserve it.” Tears dripped onto the t-shirt, as she wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “I told myself I wouldn’t cry, but here I am . . . here I am in Sapodilla Bay stalking you and your new girlfriend like a psycho.” She finally looked up at me.
“You said it not me.”
That made her laugh, but the dam broke unleashing a fury of tears. I jogged to the bathroom and grabbed the tissues. As I crossed the living room to the terrace, I pulled a few tissues from the box.
She sniffled and blew her nose. “That’s going to be the headline. Heather Young, actress turned stalking psycho flies to Caribbean disrupting ex-husband’s vacation.”
I sat silent for moment, while she collected herself. Sure, I could pile on and kick her while she’s down, but that wouldn’t do any good. I didn’t know if Heather would tell me the reason, the real reason that she was here. Was she lonely? Was she heartbroken? Was she in love with someone else and that freaked her out?
“What caused this psycho stalking episode?”
“Honestly, I don’t know, I just snapped,” she said, taking the cap off the water. “I was sitting alone in my condo, drinking a cheap bottle of wine and scrolling through Instagram and there it was a picture of the two of you in the pool, so happy.”
“Being happy is a very personal thing, Heather. It has nothing to do with anyone else.”
“I’m miserable and alone.”
“You did it to yourself.”
She nodded, returning her gaze to the ocean. “I did, I know that. I think that I’ve been holding onto my memories because it’s all I have.” Her hands shook as she lifted the water bottle. “I need help,” she admitted. “I’m an addict and I need help.”
I nodded. “It’s all been arranged. I booked you into a treatment center in Georgia. I called Drew and he’s going to be there when you arrive.”
She tilted her head to look at me. “You’re not coming with me?”
“No,” I replied firmly. “You’re going to heal yourself on your own.”
“I’m broken. I don’t think I’ll ever be over you.” Her fingers picked at the label on the water bottle. “I don’t know how to forget you. Sometimes, I forget that we’re divorced, and I think about what our life would be like now. I’m scared I can’t move on and that I’ll always wonder what might have been.”
“It’s important that you separate your feelings from your reality. This thing we once had, it’s over. It’s done.”
That’s all the advice I needed to give to Heather. She wouldn’t heal a life time of pain overnight.
Dusk had settled over the island by the time I stuffed Heather into the back of the SUV with Augustin. Harvey escorted the two of them to the airport, while Isaac stayed here at the house.
I was exhausted, hungry, and fuck, did I need a drink. This was not how I planned this vacation to go, not at all.
Augustin said Harlow returned from the spa just before dinner. I found her lounging on the terrace by the pool.
“Hey,” I said, dropping to the chair beside her.
“Hey, would you like me to make you something to eat?”
“Yeah, but first I just want to sit here with you, is that okay?”
She nodded. “It’s more than okay. How’s Heather?”
I stretched, folding my arms behind my head. “Honestly, I have no clue. She said some stuff about holding onto the past wondering what things might have been like for the two of us if we’d stayed married.”
Harlow rolled onto her side to face me. “She wants you back?”
“She can want all she wants, but I don’t want her. I made it very clear to Heather that she and I are over, forever.”
“And she was okay with that?”
“She has no other choice,” I said, moving to sit on the end of her lounger. “I’ve fallen for someone else.”
“Grady,” she breathed my name like a prayer. I hauled Harlow to her feet claiming her lips putting a cap on this conversation.