THE SUN IS just about to set as the Jaybird touches down on the private airstrip. Two black SUVs sit idling on the private drive. A smile spreads across my face when I see Uncle Max and Cole climb out of one and Dylan and Alex exit the other. It’s exciting and weird knowing I’ll be seeing my cousin every day at school, and the rest of my family more than on just holidays and the occasional summer vacation.
And then there’s Zach.
How am I going to be able to see Zach every day and pretend like he didn’t tear my heart out?
After our luggage is loaded up in the two SUVs, Bass slips behind the wheel of the new Denali and I slide into the passenger seat. Mom and Grace climb in the back.
BASS EXITS THE highway and cuts through downtown Heritage, then over a short two-lane drawbridge. Heritage Bay is actually an island located on the outskirts of downtown Heritage, connected to the mainland by two small drawbridges.
The island reminds me of something out of an old movie set. The buildings and roads are brick-paved and lined with streetlamps, townhomes, small businesses, boutiques, markets, bistros, and coffee shops with apartments above them.
Bass continues past the Heritage Bay Golf Club and Beach Resort, Heritage Bay Athletic Club and Spa, and the Heritage Bay Hotel. And, of course, the Heritage Bay Medical Center. It’s a private medical facility founded and built by my grandfather. The Mackenzie name is kind of a big deal around Heritage Bay.
We pass a few gated neighborhoods before we finally stop beside a guardhouse that sits in front of a pair of wrought iron gates that are at least twenty feet high. The words “Heritage Lake Estates” are scrolled across the front in a gold font.
Two men dressed in black cargo pants, black T-shirts with “Security” written in bright yellow stretched across their muscular torsos, and combat boots—looking like a couple of sexy soldiers—step outside the door of the small guardhouse. Bass gets out of the car and follows them back inside.
“Well, hellooooo, Joes,” I drawl out, jokingly.
Mom laughs. “Take it easy there, tiger,” she teases, shaking her head at me with Grace laughing beside her.
Bass comes out of the guardhouse and gets back behind the wheel. The gate opens and the guards wave us though.
“Is this a neighborhood or a military base?” I joke.
Bass smiles knowingly. “The security company is owned and operated by former military. Some of the guards are active in the reserves. You’ll be safer here than on any base.”
I seriously doubt that, but whatever. I’m safe so I’m good.
“Good to know, but I’m still just the daughter of a totally awesome rock star, not the President.” I twist around in the front seat to face Emerson. “Is my life in danger or something? Why all of the security?”
Em gives me a “don’t be ridiculous” look. “This was all your father’s doing. Your safety and protection was and still is always a priority. And, no, your life isn’t in danger, but I have been getting e-mails and phone calls ever since the magazine came out. No threats or anything, but still, you can never be too careful. Your fan base is building and sometimes fans can be a little overzealous. You’re much safer here on this island than you’ll ever be in LA. I can promise you that.”
“But no one knows who I am.”
“No, but they will eventually. For now, we live our lives the way everyone else does. There are a lot of important people who live on this island. Famous people. The residents here respect each other’s privacy, but like I said, there are still the overzealous fans and shit stirrers with their cell phones ready. Conduct yourself in public the way I taught you, as if there’s a camera on you at all times. Don’t give anyone anything worth selling down the road. But for now, you don’t have to worry about the paparazzi popping out of the bushes. If you leave the island, Bass goes with you. Be polite. Be kind. Be you.”
I can deal with that.
The streets inside the gates are lined with lampposts like the others. Tall bushes obscure the view of the massive multimillion-dollar homes that sit at the end of a long driveway behind another private gate.
Bass wasn’t kidding about the security being tight.
The SUV rolls to a stop in front of another set of tall black wrought iron gates at least fifteen feet high. Bass punches a code into the call box, the gate swings open, and he continues up the driveway.
When the house comes into view, I gasp and slap a hand over my mouth at the same time I hear Mom’s sharp inhale from the back seat. My dream house.
It’s huge. Even bigger than our house in Malibu.
I loved our beach house in Malibu and the villa in St. Thomas, but my dream house has always been something geared to an estate home. Kind of like a modern-day castle.
And since I’m a princess and all…
“Every princess should live in a castle,” Bass says as if he hears my thoughts.
And it’s the most perfect castle.
Even more beautiful than I could’ve ever imagined, with stones in various shades of creams and muted grays.
When you don’t have a lot of friends and you’re banned from social media, you find other ways to entertain yourself. Mine is Pinterest. I love it. Before setting up an account, I had to get my dad’s approval, but after a few minutes he was hooked. We set up an account for both of us with similar boards like Music, Quotes, Tattoos, Dream Homes, Cars. However, he didn’t particularly care for my Hot Guys board. He told me to delete it but I hid it instead.
I’d spent too long perfecting that one.
“You guys go in. We’ll get the bags,” Bass says as he moves to the back of the SUV.
Cole jogs up the steps to the front door and waves me over, seemingly just as excited as I am. “Come on, Jay. Let’s go check it out.”
I GASP AND cover my mouth again as I step through the front door and into the foyer. I feel like I’m on an episode of one of those home makeover shows. The house is beautiful and spacious with dark espresso wood floors, white walls decorated with black-and-white photos of my family and hints of color splashed throughout.
To the right of the foyer is a sweeping staircase leading to the second floor and just beyond the stairs is the dining room.
To the left is a small formal sitting area. A hallway leads to an office that connects to a music room with a small recording studio, followed by a master suite for my mom, and two bathrooms at the far end.
Straight ahead is a wall of windows overlooking the pool and beyond the pool area is a man-made lake, a dock, and a boathouse.
I hear a gasp from Grace as she steps into the kitchen. Stainless steel appliances, a commercial grade subzero refrigerator, and gas range with a double oven. A large granite-top island—white with swirls of gray and cream—lined with barstools doubles as a breakfast bar. A farmhouse table sits off to the side with a chandelier hanging over it.
The kitchen overlooks the great room, which is spacious and decorated with slip-covered sofas surrounding a coffee table that looks like a tree trunk. A large flat-screen hangs on the wall over a uniquely carved wooden entertainment unit.
Behind the kitchen is another staircase leading to the second floor. There’s also a laundry/mudroom, small guest bathroom, a gym, and a door that leads to the garage.
I love it.
The house is big—three stories—but it’s cozy.
Tomorrow I plan to look around, but for now I want to see my room—specifically, my closet. My suite is on the second floor, along with five additional guest rooms with adjoining bathrooms, and two additional guest bathrooms. At the end of the hall is a door that leads to a separate apartment over the garage, which is where Bass will live. And on the third floor is the media/game room and another door leading to an additional apartment for Grace.
My king-size bed, piled high with white linens, is centered against the left wall on top of an oversized area rug and flanked by two shabby-chic nightstands topped with lamps. The tufted headboard is made with gray satin fabric, and a matching bench sits at the foot of the bed. The aquamarine silk drapes add a perfect amount of color to complement the room. A small seating area is arranged on the far side of the room in front of the French doors leading to the terrace. I’m tempted to skip the shower and dive right into bed, but first I have a closet to inspect.
A set of double doors opens to a massive closet which resembles a boutique or a small department store, filled with aisles of clothes which are all mine. I’m a bit of a fashion whore, sue me. A small seating area is arranged in the corner of the room in front of a three-way mirror.
On the far wall are two separate but smaller closets for shoes, handbags, and accessories. Inside the shoe closet is a built-in dresser, and on top is a large vase filled with fresh ranunculus in shades of light pink and cream.
“You have entirely too much shit,” Cole says, coming in behind me.
I scoff. “There’s no such thing.”
Every square foot of this house is beautiful and perfect.
And suddenly I get the strangest feeling.
Goose bumps cover my arms as a sense of calm comes over me. It’s as if my dad is here, with his arms around me, and he’s telling me everything is going to be okay.
You’re home now, Jaybird.
AFTER EVERYONE LEAVES, I head back up to my room to shower, then shoot a text to Evangeline and Lucas, letting them know that I’ve arrived and will talk to them tomorrow.
Beside my phone is an envelope addressed to Jaybird in familiar handwriting. A shudder runs through me as I sit on the edge of the bed and reach for the envelope. As I brush my fingers over the letters, I realize my hands are shaking. Shifting on the bed, I scoot so that my back is against the headboard and open the envelope slowly, careful not to rip it.
Jaybird,
Welcome home, baby girl. I hope it’s everything you’ve ever dreamed of because it’s all for you. I’m providing you with a foundation, but it’s up to you to build the life you want for yourself. Fill it with new memories and remember that no matter which path you choose to follow, it will always lead you back home. I hope I’ve made you as proud as you’ve made me. I love you so much, my sweet girl.
Love always and forever,
Daddy
DO I SMELL bacon?
Blinking the sleep away from my eyes, I throw the covers back, roll out of bed, and head to the bathroom, cringing when my eyes meet the mirror. I look like a hot mess. My eyes are red and puffy from crying myself to sleep after reading the note from my father. It makes me sick to my stomach thinking how hard it had to be for him to write that note, knowing his fate had already been decided.
With a fresh face and minty breath, I throw on a pair of shorts and tank, snag my sunglasses from my bag and slide them over my swollen eyes before making my way down to the kitchen.
Cole is sitting at the island messing with his phone while Mimi and Grace flutter around the kitchen. “Good morning, sunshine,” Mimi sings from the coffeepot as Grace sets down a plate in front of Cole.
With an excited squeal, I rush toward Mimi and wrap my arms around her petite frame. Pulling back, I look around. “Where’s Mac Daddy?”
“Mac Daddy” is my grandfather, Max Mackenzie. Everyone calls him “Mac” but I call him “Mac Daddy” because he’s cool like that.
“He had a meeting, but he promises he’ll be over later.” She frowns. “What’s with the sunglasses?”
Shrugging, I turn away from her, snatching up a bacon strip from the platter as I move to sit beside Cole, ruffling his hair as I pass, which he immediately tries to fix. Such a diva.
“I thought you had practice this morning,” I say, sliding onto the stool beside him.
Cole eyes my sunglasses, then looks down at his watch. “I do, in about thirty minutes. So, what’s with the sunglasses?” he asks, reaching for them.
Leaning back, I swat his hand away. “Stop. I’m fine, Cole.”
“What do you think of the house?” Mimi interrupts as she sets down a mug of steaming hot coffee in front of me.
Wrapping my hands around the mug, I look around and say, “It’s beautiful, Mimi,” before bringing the mug to my lips, blowing on it before taking a sip. “I haven’t been in all of the rooms or out back yet, but so far, I love it. Of course, the closet is my favorite room in the house.” I smile.
“That closet is ridiculous.” Cole rolls his eyes. “I don’t get why women need an entire room for their shit.”
“Oh, hush, you.” Mimi smacks him on the arm, as do I.
I turn my attention back to Mimi. “Seriously, Mimi, you guys did such a beautiful job. I appreciate you and Aunt Jess and I’d like to do something nice for you both. Maybe a spa day or dinner with the whole family.”
Mimi winks. “You’re welcome, and that’s not necessary. You’re my granddaughter. I’d do anything for you.”
“Speak for yourself, Mimi,” Cole says before turning to me. “I helped too. There’s a new place that just opened in Pelican Cove. Feel free to thank me by taking me to dinner.”
I snort a laugh. “You got it.” I reach up and ruffle his hair again. “How much crap do you put in that hair, pretty boy?”
Jerking his head back, he swats at my hand before combing his fingers through his hair.
“Shut up.” He laughs and stands to shove his phone into his front pocket. “I gotta get to practice, but I’ll be back afterward to pick you up. I’m taking you to my friend Brad’s end-of-summer party.”
I go still for a fraction of a second, remembering Zach’s message, ‘I’m on my way to my friend Brad’s end-of-summer party.’
“Okay. Just text me and let me know what time. And don’t forget what I said earlier.” I’d warned him not to tell anyone—Zach—that I’m in town. I want to surprise him.
Cole shakes head. “Chill out, girl. I won’t.” He smacks a kiss on the top of my head and another on Mimi’s cheek before rounding the island to plant one on Grace’s cheek, thanking her for breakfast. Then he’s out the door. Cole comes off as an asshole to most people, especially to those who don’t know him, but when it comes to family, he’s good people.