Page 22 of Paradise in Progress
“We’re really proud of you, sweetie. Both of our girls.” Mom’s warm smile meets her eyes as she reaches over and squeezes Olivia’s hand.
The rest of dinner flies by, and soon enough, plates are cleared, pies destroyed, and my dad’s dropping Olivia and me off at the new microbrewery, Iron Horse Brewing Co. so we could have a little sister time.
The bar is packed with familiar faces, many home for the holiday, much like we were. Conversation flows as easily as the drinks and time seems to slip by as a local band plays music from our high school days. My phone vibrating on the table pulls my attention from where I’m watching Olivia flirt with the Blackwood brothers.
Tate and Gage have been in love with my sister for as long as I can remember. Tate graduated a year before me, while Gage was a year or two older than Olivia, falling in between the two of us in school. Liv looks like she fits in perfectly with their group, and I wonder if Tate will finally confess his love to my sister. Unlikely, but it’s worth a shot. Glancing away from where the three of them are playing pool with a few others, I see the name “Golden Boy” flash across the screen.
Leave it to Tristan to ruin a perfectly good holiday.
“What could you possibly need?” I say by way of greeting.
“Hello to you too, Firecracker,” Tristan says before letting out a long groan. “What is that awful noise?”
“That sound, Golden Boy, is the sound of a local band playing our town’s anthem, Wagon Wheel.”
“Sounds delightful.”
“I’m glad you think so too. But seriously, what do you want, Tristan?”
“What’s the matter? You haven’t missed the sound of my voice?”
“I heard cats fighting in the barn earlier. Sounds about the same,” I retort.
“I’m wounded, Kennedy, deeply wounded.”
“Uh-huh.” Reaching for the pint glass in front of me, I enjoy a long pull of the American IPA and savor the fruitiness of mango and pineapple.
“Promise not to kill the messenger?”
“There’s never any promises in hate and war.”
“We need to leave for St. Lucia. There’s an issue with the resort.”
Sounds fade out around me as my pulse thunders in my ears. “I’m sorry, what did you just say?”
He starts to explain, but I quickly cut him off, telling him I need to find a quiet place. Too bad the only quiet place is outside and I’m not disappearing without telling my sister where I’m going. Finishing the last couple of sips of my beer, I stand from my seat and weave through the crowd of people gathered around to listen to the band.
Gage Blackwood eyes me as I approach the group. “Damn, Kennedy, you look good. Liv, why didn’t you tell us Kenny was here too?”
“Who the hell is that?” Tristan grits from his side of the phone.
I smother a laugh. “Friends of my sister’s,” I tell him before pulling the phone away from my mouth.
“I’ve got to take this outside.”
Olivia nods, and I step around the group of bikers as I head for the back exit.
The patio is dimly lit, with only a few strands of bistro lights hanging from the poles. A couple of smokers are huddled together, and I find a table to sit away from the lingering smoke and glances.
“What’s the problem?”
“Finally,” he grumbles, and my eyes roll on instinct. “There is a problem in St. Lucia, and since we are the project leads, we need to be on location for at least a month.”
“A month!” My jaw drops. A month in paradise sounds amazing, but not being stuck on an island smaller than the county I grew up in. “When do we leave?”
“We really should be settled for a meeting first thing Monday morning. I can have the jet ready by Saturday morning.”
Nibbling on my lower lip, my mind spins with how I’m going to get to New York in time, when my flight home wasn’t supposed to be until Sunday. “Okay, I’ll see what I can do about getting my flight changed.”
