Page 156 of These Summer Storms

But mostly, she wondered how she would survive now, knowing that what she had come to want over the course of the week had always been Franklin’s endgame. Knowing she’d played right into her father’s hands.

Her gaze settled on Jack, who didn’t look comfortable anymore.

“You never told me what you get,” she said. “For keeping me on the island.”

There was a collective inhale in the room, every head swiveling to Jack, who did not answer.

She repeated herself. “He wanted me here. And you were supposed to keep me here. Not them.” She waved a hand at her siblings. “Though they absolutely helped.”

“Alice,” he said. “You need to know I don’t care—”

“He was afraid the inheritance wouldn’t be enough,” she interrupted. “You were supposed to keep me here. Until tomorrow.”

“Until midnight tonight, yes,” he answered, seeming to understand that the answer was an indictment. “But I didn’t—”

“Don’t.” She stopped him. “You did the job. I’m here. Well done.”

“Alice, I didn’t keep you here.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, fixer,” she said. “Come on. You were doing it from the start. Right from the moment you punched out a photographer at the train station. Before that, huh? You knew it was me. You knew I’d be there. You knew that I would be alone—you made sure of it. Griffin was gone. It was me on that train, looking for someone to protect me, because no one else ever had. Lucky you had those photographers on speed dial.”

The words struck him like a blow. He recoiled. “The photographers weren’t me. You think I would have risked that?”

“Fine,” she said. “But the one-night stand? Without really pushing to tell me who you were? That was pretty helpful.”

“Yes. It kept you off the island until I could be here with you.”

“Until you could make sure I stayed.” Betrayal was hot and bitter in her throat. “So youdidintend to manipulate me into staying at the Quahog Quay.”

“No. I wasn’t planning to—” He stopped. Looked around the room to their audience. “For us to—”

“To sleep together,” she said.

Shock and surprise sounded around the room.

“The first night!” Greta said.

“Before you even got here!” Emily.

“What an asshole,” Sam said.

The chorus of replies pushed Jack and Alice into a strange, fleeting truce.

“Shut up,” Alice said.

He lowered his voice and spoke directly to her. “I didn’t expect that, Alice. And once it happened…none of that was…it was all real. Which was a real pain in my ass, I’ll tell you what.”

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t expect to like you so much! I didn’t expect to want you to like me so much!” He sounded incredibly annoyed, and she didn’t hate it. “I had nothing to do with calling the press that night. You might consider the fact that your family isn’t exactly unknown—thatyouwere as much a story as anything that night.”

“Yeah, I know,” she said. “I live every day under the specter of my name; it’s the most interesting thing about me.”

Myriad noises sounded around the room, each representative of her siblings’ disagreement. But they let Jack speak. “Don’t say that. I fucking hate that. It’s not true.” He paused. “I had nothing to do with keeping you on the island after that night. That was all them.” Another pause. “Not that I didn’t enjoy the view when Sam took your clothes and locked them in the pantry.”

She ignored her blush. “It wasn’t Sam. It was Oliver.”

“What?” Sam interjected, annoyed dad activated.

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