Their Save-the-Date Charade, page 17
And forever, he thought happily.
He smiled at her. “It takes ahold of you, doesn’t it?”
They looked out at the view of Toronto’s skyline, the sun beginning to descend and lighting up the sky and the city in its wash of orange-golden light.
“Beautiful,” Lulu said a little while later when the sun glowed behind the CN Tower, the fading light of day glittering in the lake.
Alwan saw exactly what she meant, but he found his stare tracking down to her at one point as he agreed, “Yeah, beautiful.” He hugged her, wondering how he’d gotten so lucky.
She must have been thinking the same thing because she said, “I can’t believe that a fake engagement did this.” Lulu raised their clasped hands and shook her head in awe. “We only broke all our stipulations to get here.”
He laughed and pressed a kiss to the heated tip of her ear. “Our little save-the-date charade turned out to be a big hit for us, so I can’t complain if some rules were broken along the way.”
“Incorrigible,” she muttered, but her bright smile told him everything.
“I am, but you love it.” He kissed her cheek, delighted when she turned her head to him and presented her soft, luscious mouth. They were both breathless by the time he lifted his head and panted, “Speaking of our charade, what ever happened to your RV repairs?”
“They’re actually ready.” Lulu looked away, confusing him by her sudden shyness until she explained, “They have been for a week now.”
“A week? Why didn’t you say so?”
“Because I kind of forgot to check my email with the update. I got so caught up in everything that was happening with us, that it escaped my mind.”
Alwan grinned, understanding what she meant exactly. These last two weeks without her had stalled his life almost completely. He hadn’t been able to focus on his practice or any work, for that matter. Though he imagined that would change now that Lulu had accepted his love.
“Did you want company to go pick up your motor home?” he asked, toying with the fake engagement ring she’d bought herself. “Alberta’s a long way from here.”
“I guess you can come. If you don’t mind Blueberry coming along too?”
Alwan glanced over to where her cat lounged nearby on a Muskoka chair. “How could I mind it when he’s so much a part of you?”
Lulu trapped his chin in her soft hand and slowly pulled up to touch her lips to his, whispering, “I think that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said.”
“Sweeter than telling you that I love you a whole lot?”
She scrunched her nose adorably. “Okay, maybe that is sweeter.”
He chuckled and kissed her again, only this time longer and deeper, until her taste filled him, body and soul.
But they were both wrong, because there was something sweeter than their kisses.
“I love you,” Lulu said when they took a break to catch their breaths.
It struck him that she hadn’t spoken the words yet, but now that she had, Alwan couldn’t believe it. And he asked her to say it again.
“I love you,” she repeated with a bashful little smile.
“Say it again.”
“I love you.”
“Again,” he breathed against her mouth, his heart leaping with joy.
And when she whispered, “I love you, Alwan,” and kissed him, it left no doubt in his mind that she truly did.
Epilogue
“WE REALLY DID IT, didn’t we?” Lulu touched the diamond platinum band on her finger, awe at its beauty filling her every time. The halo diamond ring was almost a perfect replica of the fake engagement ring she’d bought herself. Only these diamonds were very real and vividly bright in the hushed, cool darkness of Alwan’s latest flashy car, an English white Rolls-Royce. She looked up at him as he took her hand and raised it to his lips, his mouth brushing the ring he’d given her, a symbol of their steady, eternal love.
“We did,” he said, his slow, sinful smile stirring up those all-too-familiar butterflies in her stomach. “And now you’re mine for real.”
“Ditto.” She gasped when his hand slid to her wrist and he gently tugged her across the back seat to him. Holding her to his chest, he kissed her with the hunger of a man that had kept his desires in check while they performed the nikah at the masjid.
Sure enough, he nipped her lip and pulled back, grinning wolfishly at her as he said, “I’ve been thinking of doing that all through the ceremony, and I might have if I wasn’t positive that I’d have scandalized the imam and our families.”
Lulu laughed when he smacked another kiss on her.
He cuddled her to him then, his hands wandering to the satin lacing of her corset bodice. She reached around and caught his wrists. “Not here,” she whispered, flinging a look at the opaque privacy glass.
“Don’t worry. The driver can’t see us…or hear us, for that matter,” he reassured her when she looked back at him.
“Hear us?” she echoed, confused.
At least she was until Alwan started tickling her, his hands running along her sides, finding all her secret sensitive spots. She wriggled against him, peals of laughter filling the back of the car. Soon her giggled pleas for mercy turned to soft moans when he kissed and nipped along her jawline to her collar and right above her heaving breasts.
She was so caught up in him that she hadn’t noticed they had arrived at the venue.
It was Alwan who sat her up and helped smooth her dress of any evidence of their passion. Righting his tux next, he opened the car door, exited and guided her out with a hand before offering his arm to her.
As they walked up to the familiar castle-like mansion together, Lulu beamed up at Alwan, thrilled that he had surprised her by reserving their reception at the Casa Loma. She had fallen in love with the garden grounds and the darkly romantic, majestic stone building. They were supposed to meet their families and friends in the garden, at the glass pavilion she and Alwan had visited once before, but instead of heading down the path she knew would take them there, he steered her toward the parking lot.
“Where are we going?”
He grinned mischievously. “We’re almost there, so why spoil the surprise?”
And he was right. After a short walk, Lulu saw what he was alluding to. Her motor home was there rather than where she’d parked it last.
“What’s going on?” she asked warily, but still letting him lead her closer to the back of the RV to reveal the surprise.
Lulu covered her mouth with a hand when she saw it.
In big bold dark blue lettering was one word: Blueberry.
“Your RV needed a name, and this one felt appropriate.” Alwan came up behind her, his arms circling her, his lips near her ear. “If you want to change it though, that’s cool too.”
Lulu blinked rapidly and sniffled, fanning at her face and crying out, “Alwan, really? My makeup doesn’t need this right before our wedding reception.” She turned around and hugged him, looking up only when she was sure she wasn’t going to tear up. “I can’t believe it’s been a whole two years. That we started here,” she said with a look back at the RV.
In those two years, a lot had happened. After they confessed their love to each other, they’d announced to their families that they wanted to take a step back and explore their relationship. Everyone had been more than happy to support them. And while they dated and got to know each other, Alwan’s private practice went on to thrive, and Lulu had chosen to stay in the city with her family and had finally told them about her miscarriage. She and Alwan had even discussed their feelings and hopes about possibly one day having children, and he’d told her that he was happy trying for a family with her only if she wished for it.
Feeling a swell of appreciation and love for him, she sprang up on her toes and pecked his lips.
He stole his own kisses.
“My makeup,” she reminded him as he kissed her cheeks and forehead.
Laughing, he took her hand and pulled her into the RV. Locking the door, he turned on her and swept her up into his arms and carried her to the bedroom, right past their two astonished cats. Blueberry and their latest addition Pea, a tiny, big-eared Cornish Rex who Alwan had adopted over a year ago.
“We’re going to be late for the reception,” she warned.
He shrugged and winked at her. “I’m okay with that. Besides, better late than not showing up.”
“Alwan, don’t you dare—” Lulu cut off with a squeal as he dropped her onto the bed.
He followed her, covering her body with his and making her forget her protests with his drugging kisses and rapturous caresses. At the end of it, her makeup wasn’t the only thing she had to worry about.
As she lay in his arms, both their outfits rumpled, Lulu didn’t think he could make her happier.
But then Alwan said, “I took three weeks off and I thought we could travel in the RV for our honeymoon.”
She snapped up and looked down at him. “Do you mean it? What about your business? You can’t close the office down for three weeks…”
“And I’m not going to. I trust my staff, and I’ve let my clients know that I’ll be spending quality time with my once fake fiancée, now new wife.”
“You did not tell them about our fake engagement,” she griped, swatting his chest.
Alwan caught her hand and pulled her down to him, his thumb stroking over her engagement ring. “I didn’t, but it wouldn’t have mattered if I had because this is real now and will be always.”
“I love you,” she said, her heart never so full.
“I love you more.”
Lulu rolled her eyes at his ever-present ego, but this time she let it go because his confidence proved that their love was as bright and hopeful as their future together.
* * * * *
If you enjoyed this story, check out these other great reads from Hana Sheik
Another Shot at Forever
Falling for Her Forbidden Bodyguard
The Baby Swap that Bound Them
Forbidden Kisses with Her Millionaire Boss
All available now!
Keep reading for an excerpt from How to Resist Your Billionaire Ex by Jenny Lane.
Be swept away by glamorous and heartfelt love stories.
Emotion and intimacy simmer in international locales—experience the rush of falling in love!
Four new books available every month!
Chapter One
Blake
BLAKE DIDN’T COME all this way to second-guess herself—not when something that looked a lot like a future was waiting just beyond those doors. So, she pushed the car door open before the driver had fully stopped, heart pounding like it already knew how this all would end. Her heel landed against the stone drive—a declaration, a step toward something she might finally be ready for.
She didn’t let herself hesitate.
Her eyes followed a path lined with rosemary shadowed by cypress, before lifting to the entrance of Vella West. It looked like something out of a fairy tale: warm wood and stone features dropped in the middle of lush green vineyards and an endless sky. And Blake just knew that beyond those heavy oak doors, the story that was going to change her life was waiting for her.
Ivy trailed up the sun-warmed stone walls, and antique doors that were no doubt imported loomed under an arch of flowering vines. She was sure their weathered wood contained secrets she couldn’t wait to uncover. Bees hovered lazily over the bursts of indigo buds in the lavender planters and butterflies danced through the shafts of golden afternoon light.
Blake tightened her grip on her tote and continued toward the entrance. Her week here was meant to be work—an opportunity to prove she belonged at the writer’s table—but something about this place made her feel like she’d already crossed a line. It was as if the social media manager version of herself that left San Diego that morning was already slipping away.
When Robby from PR at Vella West reached out to her on her magazine’s official social media, she was certain it was spam. But she showed the message to Tara, her boss, anyway, and was shocked to find it was a real invitation. They wanted someone from her magazine to spend a week at their new resort next to the up-and-coming vineyard of the same name. It was a week full of surprise events and activities designed to wow the traveler.
The entire office got swept up in the magic of it. A flurry of whispered gossip and wild speculations. Vella West was the personal project of a young billionaire in the Napa Valley. It was said that half the resort was painstakingly imported from across the sea and the billionaire oversaw the placement of every stone. Blake couldn’t help but get swept up in the magic herself. The whole thing sounded entirely romantic.
Everyone wanted a chance to visit the resort—including Blake. She’d known a head writer would get the assignment. But Ginny went and eloped one week before she was supposed to leave and cashed in her paid time off to spend her honeymoon cliff diving. Which left Blake the perfect opportunity to stop relying on what she was simply good at and start going after something she wanted.
“Let me go,” she’d pleaded when she’d marched into her boss’s office late that evening. “I can do it. I can leave in the morning.”
“Blake, you know I love having you on this team. Your social media presence has transformed this magazine. But writing an article is different.” Tara shifted in her leather swivel chair and frowned. “You don’t even travel.”
“That’s not true,” Blake countered. She wanted this. No. She needed this. This was her chance. “I’ve traveled before.”
“When?”
“I backpacked through Europe before I started working for you.” Blake didn’t add that she hadn’t wanted to travel since that glorious and heartbreaking trip ten years ago. Nothing would ever compare to it. And nothing could make her go through the same loss she felt after it. “I can do this.”
She spread out her body, making herself big, as if she was facing a mountain lion and not her narrow-eyed, sharp-tongued boss who only came up to Blake’s shoulders. She wasn’t sure why her heart and her head had synced up over this assignment, but it called to her like a siren song.
“This exclusive review has already brought in tens of thousands of dollars in ads.” Tara pressed her fingertips to her temples and spoke the next part softly. “If it doesn’t hit, then we’re not just looking at a loss for the quarter. I’m looking at a loss of the magazine.”
“I have a degree in art history and creative writing. I can do this assignment justice. I need to see this place.” She splayed her hands across her boss’s desk and faked the courage she needed to say, “I can write a great article. And when I do, you’ll promote me to travel writer. I’ve got this, Tara.”
Tara sighed. “I’m probably going to regret this.” She pushed a file toward Blake with the tip of her pen. “But if I don’t send you, I’d have to go myself. And there’s too much to do here.” Tara glared at the looming stack of papers on her usually organized desk. “You can get the rest of the details from Chloe. And it better be good. Otherwise, not only will you not get a spot on the travel writing team, you might not have a spot at all.”
Blake knew this exclusive article was pulling in enough advertisements to meet their third quarter goal and then some. She knew exactly what was at stake. She and Chloe, Tara’s assistant, had speculated about it over lunch a few days ago.
“I understand.” Blake clutched the folder to her chest. She had wanted Tara to know she was going to take this seriously. Those words had settled like a stone deep in Blake’s stomach. She had been churning them around ever since.
But from the moment the town car pulled off the main highway and headed down the rambling country road, Blake couldn’t focus on anything except the feeling she was stepping into a memory. A hazy moment that felt like a sun-worn photograph.
Memories of when she was fresh out of college, with nothing to her name but a passport and a backpack, spending days in the Italian sunshine, kiss drunk from the strawberry wine on Sloane’s lips. That had been an incredible summer. Just two women, girls really, whispering secrets and dreams as they lay on a blanket in a field next to an abandoned farmhouse, the trees providing latticed sunshine across their bare stomachs.
It had been love—not at first sight—but definitely fast and hard the way you can only fall when you’re young and free and have nothing to lose. They were going to upend their entire lives for each other. Blake had quit her job via email—backing out of her internship-turned–assistant editor position at an up-and-coming magazine. She’d done it for the chance at adventure. At love. She could still remember how exhilarating it had been to watch the email whoosh away.
Sloane had seemed so certain about the future, about Blake. But one morning Blake had woken up and Sloane was gone—a scrawled note on the bedside saying she had to leave for a family emergency. Blake’s panic and worry compelled her to leave voicemail after voicemail, until the inbox was full. She’d attempted to look Sloane up because maybe something awful had happened, but it was as if she’d disappeared without a trace.
Blake’s worry turned to anger and then heartache. She turned it over in her like a jagged rock in a tumbler. It was still there, all these years later, a heavy and uncomfortable reminder of what happened when you let your guard down, even if the edges had smoothed out over the years.
Blake had never done anything so reckless, or so freeing, since. She’d returned from that summer in Italy and began an internship with a different, lesser-known magazine. If Tara hadn’t rescued her, she’d still be fetching coffee on the seventeenth floor with no end in sight.
There was something about the yellow hills, the hint of dirt and earth in the air, that brought her back to the moment. Blake took in the main building—whitewashed walls with stone accents and tall windows, as if it was plucked from the hills of Italy. She’d read up on the place, sure, but seeing it in person was something else. Somewhere behind it, she knew, was the wine bar she planned to visit later.
Past the building, rows of vineyard stretched toward the hills, green and full in the early summer light. Her gaze followed the slope upward to where the cottages were tucked discreetly among the trees—private, just as advertised.
He smiled at her. “It takes ahold of you, doesn’t it?”
They looked out at the view of Toronto’s skyline, the sun beginning to descend and lighting up the sky and the city in its wash of orange-golden light.
“Beautiful,” Lulu said a little while later when the sun glowed behind the CN Tower, the fading light of day glittering in the lake.
Alwan saw exactly what she meant, but he found his stare tracking down to her at one point as he agreed, “Yeah, beautiful.” He hugged her, wondering how he’d gotten so lucky.
She must have been thinking the same thing because she said, “I can’t believe that a fake engagement did this.” Lulu raised their clasped hands and shook her head in awe. “We only broke all our stipulations to get here.”
He laughed and pressed a kiss to the heated tip of her ear. “Our little save-the-date charade turned out to be a big hit for us, so I can’t complain if some rules were broken along the way.”
“Incorrigible,” she muttered, but her bright smile told him everything.
“I am, but you love it.” He kissed her cheek, delighted when she turned her head to him and presented her soft, luscious mouth. They were both breathless by the time he lifted his head and panted, “Speaking of our charade, what ever happened to your RV repairs?”
“They’re actually ready.” Lulu looked away, confusing him by her sudden shyness until she explained, “They have been for a week now.”
“A week? Why didn’t you say so?”
“Because I kind of forgot to check my email with the update. I got so caught up in everything that was happening with us, that it escaped my mind.”
Alwan grinned, understanding what she meant exactly. These last two weeks without her had stalled his life almost completely. He hadn’t been able to focus on his practice or any work, for that matter. Though he imagined that would change now that Lulu had accepted his love.
“Did you want company to go pick up your motor home?” he asked, toying with the fake engagement ring she’d bought herself. “Alberta’s a long way from here.”
“I guess you can come. If you don’t mind Blueberry coming along too?”
Alwan glanced over to where her cat lounged nearby on a Muskoka chair. “How could I mind it when he’s so much a part of you?”
Lulu trapped his chin in her soft hand and slowly pulled up to touch her lips to his, whispering, “I think that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said.”
“Sweeter than telling you that I love you a whole lot?”
She scrunched her nose adorably. “Okay, maybe that is sweeter.”
He chuckled and kissed her again, only this time longer and deeper, until her taste filled him, body and soul.
But they were both wrong, because there was something sweeter than their kisses.
“I love you,” Lulu said when they took a break to catch their breaths.
It struck him that she hadn’t spoken the words yet, but now that she had, Alwan couldn’t believe it. And he asked her to say it again.
“I love you,” she repeated with a bashful little smile.
“Say it again.”
“I love you.”
“Again,” he breathed against her mouth, his heart leaping with joy.
And when she whispered, “I love you, Alwan,” and kissed him, it left no doubt in his mind that she truly did.
Epilogue
“WE REALLY DID IT, didn’t we?” Lulu touched the diamond platinum band on her finger, awe at its beauty filling her every time. The halo diamond ring was almost a perfect replica of the fake engagement ring she’d bought herself. Only these diamonds were very real and vividly bright in the hushed, cool darkness of Alwan’s latest flashy car, an English white Rolls-Royce. She looked up at him as he took her hand and raised it to his lips, his mouth brushing the ring he’d given her, a symbol of their steady, eternal love.
“We did,” he said, his slow, sinful smile stirring up those all-too-familiar butterflies in her stomach. “And now you’re mine for real.”
“Ditto.” She gasped when his hand slid to her wrist and he gently tugged her across the back seat to him. Holding her to his chest, he kissed her with the hunger of a man that had kept his desires in check while they performed the nikah at the masjid.
Sure enough, he nipped her lip and pulled back, grinning wolfishly at her as he said, “I’ve been thinking of doing that all through the ceremony, and I might have if I wasn’t positive that I’d have scandalized the imam and our families.”
Lulu laughed when he smacked another kiss on her.
He cuddled her to him then, his hands wandering to the satin lacing of her corset bodice. She reached around and caught his wrists. “Not here,” she whispered, flinging a look at the opaque privacy glass.
“Don’t worry. The driver can’t see us…or hear us, for that matter,” he reassured her when she looked back at him.
“Hear us?” she echoed, confused.
At least she was until Alwan started tickling her, his hands running along her sides, finding all her secret sensitive spots. She wriggled against him, peals of laughter filling the back of the car. Soon her giggled pleas for mercy turned to soft moans when he kissed and nipped along her jawline to her collar and right above her heaving breasts.
She was so caught up in him that she hadn’t noticed they had arrived at the venue.
It was Alwan who sat her up and helped smooth her dress of any evidence of their passion. Righting his tux next, he opened the car door, exited and guided her out with a hand before offering his arm to her.
As they walked up to the familiar castle-like mansion together, Lulu beamed up at Alwan, thrilled that he had surprised her by reserving their reception at the Casa Loma. She had fallen in love with the garden grounds and the darkly romantic, majestic stone building. They were supposed to meet their families and friends in the garden, at the glass pavilion she and Alwan had visited once before, but instead of heading down the path she knew would take them there, he steered her toward the parking lot.
“Where are we going?”
He grinned mischievously. “We’re almost there, so why spoil the surprise?”
And he was right. After a short walk, Lulu saw what he was alluding to. Her motor home was there rather than where she’d parked it last.
“What’s going on?” she asked warily, but still letting him lead her closer to the back of the RV to reveal the surprise.
Lulu covered her mouth with a hand when she saw it.
In big bold dark blue lettering was one word: Blueberry.
“Your RV needed a name, and this one felt appropriate.” Alwan came up behind her, his arms circling her, his lips near her ear. “If you want to change it though, that’s cool too.”
Lulu blinked rapidly and sniffled, fanning at her face and crying out, “Alwan, really? My makeup doesn’t need this right before our wedding reception.” She turned around and hugged him, looking up only when she was sure she wasn’t going to tear up. “I can’t believe it’s been a whole two years. That we started here,” she said with a look back at the RV.
In those two years, a lot had happened. After they confessed their love to each other, they’d announced to their families that they wanted to take a step back and explore their relationship. Everyone had been more than happy to support them. And while they dated and got to know each other, Alwan’s private practice went on to thrive, and Lulu had chosen to stay in the city with her family and had finally told them about her miscarriage. She and Alwan had even discussed their feelings and hopes about possibly one day having children, and he’d told her that he was happy trying for a family with her only if she wished for it.
Feeling a swell of appreciation and love for him, she sprang up on her toes and pecked his lips.
He stole his own kisses.
“My makeup,” she reminded him as he kissed her cheeks and forehead.
Laughing, he took her hand and pulled her into the RV. Locking the door, he turned on her and swept her up into his arms and carried her to the bedroom, right past their two astonished cats. Blueberry and their latest addition Pea, a tiny, big-eared Cornish Rex who Alwan had adopted over a year ago.
“We’re going to be late for the reception,” she warned.
He shrugged and winked at her. “I’m okay with that. Besides, better late than not showing up.”
“Alwan, don’t you dare—” Lulu cut off with a squeal as he dropped her onto the bed.
He followed her, covering her body with his and making her forget her protests with his drugging kisses and rapturous caresses. At the end of it, her makeup wasn’t the only thing she had to worry about.
As she lay in his arms, both their outfits rumpled, Lulu didn’t think he could make her happier.
But then Alwan said, “I took three weeks off and I thought we could travel in the RV for our honeymoon.”
She snapped up and looked down at him. “Do you mean it? What about your business? You can’t close the office down for three weeks…”
“And I’m not going to. I trust my staff, and I’ve let my clients know that I’ll be spending quality time with my once fake fiancée, now new wife.”
“You did not tell them about our fake engagement,” she griped, swatting his chest.
Alwan caught her hand and pulled her down to him, his thumb stroking over her engagement ring. “I didn’t, but it wouldn’t have mattered if I had because this is real now and will be always.”
“I love you,” she said, her heart never so full.
“I love you more.”
Lulu rolled her eyes at his ever-present ego, but this time she let it go because his confidence proved that their love was as bright and hopeful as their future together.
* * * * *
If you enjoyed this story, check out these other great reads from Hana Sheik
Another Shot at Forever
Falling for Her Forbidden Bodyguard
The Baby Swap that Bound Them
Forbidden Kisses with Her Millionaire Boss
All available now!
Keep reading for an excerpt from How to Resist Your Billionaire Ex by Jenny Lane.
Be swept away by glamorous and heartfelt love stories.
Emotion and intimacy simmer in international locales—experience the rush of falling in love!
Four new books available every month!
Chapter One
Blake
BLAKE DIDN’T COME all this way to second-guess herself—not when something that looked a lot like a future was waiting just beyond those doors. So, she pushed the car door open before the driver had fully stopped, heart pounding like it already knew how this all would end. Her heel landed against the stone drive—a declaration, a step toward something she might finally be ready for.
She didn’t let herself hesitate.
Her eyes followed a path lined with rosemary shadowed by cypress, before lifting to the entrance of Vella West. It looked like something out of a fairy tale: warm wood and stone features dropped in the middle of lush green vineyards and an endless sky. And Blake just knew that beyond those heavy oak doors, the story that was going to change her life was waiting for her.
Ivy trailed up the sun-warmed stone walls, and antique doors that were no doubt imported loomed under an arch of flowering vines. She was sure their weathered wood contained secrets she couldn’t wait to uncover. Bees hovered lazily over the bursts of indigo buds in the lavender planters and butterflies danced through the shafts of golden afternoon light.
Blake tightened her grip on her tote and continued toward the entrance. Her week here was meant to be work—an opportunity to prove she belonged at the writer’s table—but something about this place made her feel like she’d already crossed a line. It was as if the social media manager version of herself that left San Diego that morning was already slipping away.
When Robby from PR at Vella West reached out to her on her magazine’s official social media, she was certain it was spam. But she showed the message to Tara, her boss, anyway, and was shocked to find it was a real invitation. They wanted someone from her magazine to spend a week at their new resort next to the up-and-coming vineyard of the same name. It was a week full of surprise events and activities designed to wow the traveler.
The entire office got swept up in the magic of it. A flurry of whispered gossip and wild speculations. Vella West was the personal project of a young billionaire in the Napa Valley. It was said that half the resort was painstakingly imported from across the sea and the billionaire oversaw the placement of every stone. Blake couldn’t help but get swept up in the magic herself. The whole thing sounded entirely romantic.
Everyone wanted a chance to visit the resort—including Blake. She’d known a head writer would get the assignment. But Ginny went and eloped one week before she was supposed to leave and cashed in her paid time off to spend her honeymoon cliff diving. Which left Blake the perfect opportunity to stop relying on what she was simply good at and start going after something she wanted.
“Let me go,” she’d pleaded when she’d marched into her boss’s office late that evening. “I can do it. I can leave in the morning.”
“Blake, you know I love having you on this team. Your social media presence has transformed this magazine. But writing an article is different.” Tara shifted in her leather swivel chair and frowned. “You don’t even travel.”
“That’s not true,” Blake countered. She wanted this. No. She needed this. This was her chance. “I’ve traveled before.”
“When?”
“I backpacked through Europe before I started working for you.” Blake didn’t add that she hadn’t wanted to travel since that glorious and heartbreaking trip ten years ago. Nothing would ever compare to it. And nothing could make her go through the same loss she felt after it. “I can do this.”
She spread out her body, making herself big, as if she was facing a mountain lion and not her narrow-eyed, sharp-tongued boss who only came up to Blake’s shoulders. She wasn’t sure why her heart and her head had synced up over this assignment, but it called to her like a siren song.
“This exclusive review has already brought in tens of thousands of dollars in ads.” Tara pressed her fingertips to her temples and spoke the next part softly. “If it doesn’t hit, then we’re not just looking at a loss for the quarter. I’m looking at a loss of the magazine.”
“I have a degree in art history and creative writing. I can do this assignment justice. I need to see this place.” She splayed her hands across her boss’s desk and faked the courage she needed to say, “I can write a great article. And when I do, you’ll promote me to travel writer. I’ve got this, Tara.”
Tara sighed. “I’m probably going to regret this.” She pushed a file toward Blake with the tip of her pen. “But if I don’t send you, I’d have to go myself. And there’s too much to do here.” Tara glared at the looming stack of papers on her usually organized desk. “You can get the rest of the details from Chloe. And it better be good. Otherwise, not only will you not get a spot on the travel writing team, you might not have a spot at all.”
Blake knew this exclusive article was pulling in enough advertisements to meet their third quarter goal and then some. She knew exactly what was at stake. She and Chloe, Tara’s assistant, had speculated about it over lunch a few days ago.
“I understand.” Blake clutched the folder to her chest. She had wanted Tara to know she was going to take this seriously. Those words had settled like a stone deep in Blake’s stomach. She had been churning them around ever since.
But from the moment the town car pulled off the main highway and headed down the rambling country road, Blake couldn’t focus on anything except the feeling she was stepping into a memory. A hazy moment that felt like a sun-worn photograph.
Memories of when she was fresh out of college, with nothing to her name but a passport and a backpack, spending days in the Italian sunshine, kiss drunk from the strawberry wine on Sloane’s lips. That had been an incredible summer. Just two women, girls really, whispering secrets and dreams as they lay on a blanket in a field next to an abandoned farmhouse, the trees providing latticed sunshine across their bare stomachs.
It had been love—not at first sight—but definitely fast and hard the way you can only fall when you’re young and free and have nothing to lose. They were going to upend their entire lives for each other. Blake had quit her job via email—backing out of her internship-turned–assistant editor position at an up-and-coming magazine. She’d done it for the chance at adventure. At love. She could still remember how exhilarating it had been to watch the email whoosh away.
Sloane had seemed so certain about the future, about Blake. But one morning Blake had woken up and Sloane was gone—a scrawled note on the bedside saying she had to leave for a family emergency. Blake’s panic and worry compelled her to leave voicemail after voicemail, until the inbox was full. She’d attempted to look Sloane up because maybe something awful had happened, but it was as if she’d disappeared without a trace.
Blake’s worry turned to anger and then heartache. She turned it over in her like a jagged rock in a tumbler. It was still there, all these years later, a heavy and uncomfortable reminder of what happened when you let your guard down, even if the edges had smoothed out over the years.
Blake had never done anything so reckless, or so freeing, since. She’d returned from that summer in Italy and began an internship with a different, lesser-known magazine. If Tara hadn’t rescued her, she’d still be fetching coffee on the seventeenth floor with no end in sight.
There was something about the yellow hills, the hint of dirt and earth in the air, that brought her back to the moment. Blake took in the main building—whitewashed walls with stone accents and tall windows, as if it was plucked from the hills of Italy. She’d read up on the place, sure, but seeing it in person was something else. Somewhere behind it, she knew, was the wine bar she planned to visit later.
Past the building, rows of vineyard stretched toward the hills, green and full in the early summer light. Her gaze followed the slope upward to where the cottages were tucked discreetly among the trees—private, just as advertised.
