Page 27 of Paradise in Progress
How the hell did she make it down there so fast?
Moving through the lobby, I trot down the stairs and follow the tiled path past the expansive pool to where the walkway meets the sand.
I slip out of my dress shoes and thumb off my socks before stepping off the walkway. Instantly, I feel the soft, grainy sand as it moves around my toes. It’s hot in the island sun, but after weeks of cold weather in New York, I welcome the searing heat on the bottoms of my feet. Kennedy hasn’t seen me, or if she has, she isn’t making mypresence known. I watch her as she stares ahead at the passing boats. There’s a grin on her lips as the water slides over her toes.
“It’s beautiful,” she says, keeping her eyes ahead.
“It is.” And I’m sure the ocean is, but what’s more beautiful is the woman standing in front of me as I watch a few tears slide down her cheeks. She brushes them away before sheepishly turning to look over her shoulder. Her cheeks heat, and I hope she realizes I wasn’t talking about the water but the woman I can’t keep out of my head.
I follow her gaze to where she’s watching her feet disappear in the receding sand. “I’ve never seen the ocean before.”
My head whips in her direction. “Never?”
“Never,” she admits quietly as she shakes her head. “Dad worked hard, but we could never get away to go on a beach vacation. The closest we got was Lake Michigan for a long weekend. But this is nothing like the lake.”
Words fail me. Growing up, we spent every weekend in the summer in the Hamptons, where my grandparents had a house. It wasn’t uncommon for my mom to pack us all up and take us there for a week at a time during the long hot stretches in August.
Unsure of what to say, I change the subject. “Whenever you’re ready, Destiny, the general manager, is going to show us our rooms.”
She nods before walking back in the direction we came without another word.
I’m stuck in the sand as the flip switches from her moment of vulnerability to the Kennedy I’ve grown accustomed to.
One of these days, I’m going to break down the damn wall she’s so desperate to keep impenetrable.
And when I do, she’s going to see the real me.
Chapter eleven
Kennedy
Reed Between The Lines Group Chat
Mom: Did you make it safely?
Dad: Don’t let that Nelson boy give you any trouble. Stand tall, Kenny.
Olivia: Please tell me you’ve found an island boy to get cozy with and make Golden Boy jealous.
Mom: Olivia!
Dad: There are some things a fatherjust shouldn’t know…
Me: Hi everyone! We arrived a few hours ago. The drive from the airport was long but the ocean is breathtaking. I can’t believe how much the resort has changed already. It’s so surreal to see my designs come to life. Liv, there will be no making Tristan jealous. I’m here to work. Tomorrow we have a few meetings with the staff and then Monday it’ll be nonstop meetings with the zoning and compliance departments as we try to sort out what’s going on with the permit holdups.
Olivia: Just try to have some fun! xx
Steeling my shoulders, Iclimb the steps back into the resort and forget the moment of vulnerability I shed on the shoreline. I cannot believe I actually cried in front of Tristan. I can’t wait for him to hold that over my head.
Construction workers busy themselves in the Saturday afternoon heat. Thankfully, there’s a refreshing breeze that makes its way through the open space. As much as I hate to admit it, Tristan’s idea of shifting the entrance is the right call. It’ll be magical to step foot off the shuttles and follow the pristine tiles to the incredible view of sparkling water.
A petite woman scurries through the space, but her feet come to an abrupt halt as soon as she sees me. “Miss Reed, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” She extends her hand in a polite greeting. “I’m Destiny, the general manager. If you need anything at all, please do not hesitate to ask.”
Taking her hand in mine, I smile. “Hi, Destiny, please call me Kennedy.”
“Or Firecracker,” Tristan’s voice interrupts us, and I roll my eyes.
Shaking my head, I ignore him. “Please don’t call me that,” I whisper, making sure my eyes relay how serious I am about not being called that. I want to punch him in the face every time he calls me that, because I can’t stand it. There’s nothing worse than someone giving you a nickname based on your hair color. It’d be like me calling himBrowniebecause he has dark hair.
