A Collateral Attraction (8 page)

In her Louboutins, clearly not fast enough.

With the delicate truce between us in place, Heath retreats to his seat with an ice pack pressed against his left cheek while I sit across from him, a file folder filled with all the information Heath’s Loss Prevention Division has collected against Blythe. It actually has a much fancier name but I prefer to use terms I can understand, since it’s complicated enough, especially when all I see in all the pages of names, numbers and dates is Blythe’s name.

It’s difficult to miss, what with huge amounts that are supposed to correspond to furniture requisitions for the penthouse, clothing purchases and spa sessions, and then a number of checks from Ethan in the thousands, and a million here and there. It’s as if Blythe herself is waving a huge red flag with the words FRAUD all over the place. It’s so obvious it’s laughable.

By the time I’m halfway through the folder, I’ve got a raging headache and the flight attendant brings me a cup of coffee. As if trying to make me feel better, she tells me that Heath’s chair is called the VIP seat, which has the master control panel for the cabin’s interior, controlling everything from the temperature to the entertainment and lighting. Heath even dims the light above me and switches on the TV screen in front of me, and when I look at him, unimpressed and mouthing the word show-off, he smiles sheepishly.

We should be discussing our plans the moment we reach Saint Lucia, but it’s as if we’ve both reached our word limit for the day, and we’re actually enjoying the silence. Or at least I am, for Heath is back to working on figures and numbers on the touchscreen in front of him, even making a brief phone call to Tyler about some acquisition of a packaging company and plans to meet in Santa Barbara. I don’t ask what Santa Barbara is about, not when as far as I’m concerned, my plan is only finding Blythe and getting her back to New York as soon as I can.

“Would you like to sit here?” Heath asks, getting up from his VIP seat. He reminds me of a boy offering another child a piece of candy from his lunch box, if only trying to make her feel better.

But I don’t think twice. I get up and switch seats. I need the distraction from everything that’s happened so far, especially from all the mind-numbing figures I’ve just read in the file folder he’d given me. As Heath stands along my left side, he points out things on the touchscreen in front of me, I learn that not only does the VIP seat control the temperature of the plane outside of the cockpit, lighting and even window shades, it also has control of outside cameras.

I turn to look at him, his face so close to mine though this time, there’s no animosity between us. Not only that, but he’s grinning. “Cameras?”

“Of course — on the outside of the plane,” he says, reaching in front of me to tap a few icons on the screen, “just in case we see pigs flying.”

And there are — cameras, that is, not pigs. There is a camera mounted at the tail where one can see the surroundings during flight or upon landing, and before deplaning to make sure the area is safe. He tells me that it’s crucial to know that the area around the plane is clear, especially when he has to fly to dangerous cities like Bogota, Columbia and once, just before a coup erupted, Caracas, Venezuela.

But it’s the camera at the belly of the plane that interests me more as the captain informs us that we’re getting ready to land and Heath tells me to remain where I am as he takes the seat in front of me.

Watching the landing gear come down and then seeing a perfect landing on the screen reminds me of a video game and I can’t help but grin the entire time as I watch the whole thing unfold on the screen. And the whole time, Heath is watching me though for the first time since I’ve known him, it doesn’t bother me.

We’re in Saint Lucia, one step closer to Blythe — and that’s all that matters.

Once we land, I’m greeted by a cool tropical breeze that makes me happy not to have changed from the white dress I wore the day before. Except for my high heels, the whole get-up is perfect. I should have asked Heath or one of the flight attendants where my suitcases were but then I figured, what was a few more hours?

According to Heath’s original plan, we’d be here for only a day, just enough time to meet with Harris Colman, one of the Directors of the Board, and track down Heath and Blythe. I feel pangs of disappointment creeping along the edges, wishing that I’d at least get a chance to bury my toes in the sand, even for just a few minutes. A dip in the tropical waters wouldn’t be bad as well.

But then I remind myself that I’m not here on vacation. I’m here to track Blythe down and get her home and away from trouble — even if I have to do it with her kicking and screaming. I tell myself that again and again as I watch Heath laugh at something one of the pilots tell him.

Dimples along his cheeks deepen as he grins and I’m suddenly struck at how youthful he looks. With his dark hair and tanned skin, he looks just like any young man I would have seen at my shop, waiting till he’d come up to the counter with whatever trinkets he’d find for his girlfriend or his wife, pull out some change from his wallet, though in the last few years, hardly anyone really carries cash anymore, so it would have to be a debit card. Then he’d wait for me to place his purchases and his receipt into a paper bag, and with a smile and a thank-you, leave the shop with barely a memory of the plain woman behind the counter who’d rang up his purchases.

The truth hits me then — that in the real world, without Blythe holding Heath and I together in this delicate truce, this moment would not exist.

From the airport, it’s a helicopter ride to Harris’ estate. It’s my first time riding in a helicopter and while it scares the hell out of me, the view is magnificent enough to distract me. Barely seven in the morning and thinking that maybe it’s too early to visit Harris, Heath asks the pilot to give us a tour of the island.

For the next forty-five minutes, I learn as much I can about Saint Lucia as the pilot flies over Castries, Marigot Bay, the Pitons and the Soufriere volcano. I learn all about the number one export (bananas), the weather (tropical), and a brief history of the island having been a colony of France, and then England, and now one of the Windward Islands of the Lesser Antilles.

I’m not even aware that I’ve been holding Heath’s hand with a death grip till we land on a rooftop helipad, and with our heads low, hurry towards the stairs that lead down to the main grounds. When Heath shakes his wrist to restore circulation, I apologize profusely but he only shrugs and smiles.

Harris’ estate has a gorgeous view of the Pitons, almost the exact same view that Blythe posted online, and my heart catches in my throat when the memory of our conversation returns to me. But it’s not her scathing words that hit me hard. It’s the questions that come to me now after everything that Heath has told me.

Is the person behind the embezzlement traveling with her? I wonder if they’re watching Blythe when she’s not looking, talking to her and gaining her blind trust. I wonder if they think her just a silly woman in love, too blind to realize that she’s been set up and that soon, her world is about to crumble beneath her feet.

But the questions flee from my mind when I see the lush green gardens at the bottom of the steps. Knowing that we’re only going to be on the island for a few hours before heading back to New York, I decide to go for it. I leave Heath on the steps and rush towards the first patch of green grass I see, hopping about as I slip my shoes off along the way.

The moment my bare feet touch the soft grass, it feels like being home again, though this time instead of mountain air and the smell of the Yuba River, I take a big gulp of fresh island air, catching the scents of sweet flowers and the ocean. On one of the branches a few feet away from me is the most colorful parrot I’ve ever seen. It squawks and I can’t help but laugh out loud. I’m in paradise!

I only regain my composure when I notice that Heath is watching me with a bemused smile on his face. An older man with a thick head of gray hair and a young girl who is about ten years old stand next to him. She’s yawning and clearly, she’s just gotten out of bed, her short hair still standing in places. She’s wearing a pink polka dot pajama top with spaghetti straps, paired with denim shorts that she must have slipped on in a hurry for the top button isn’t quite fastened completely. Clearing my throat, I slip my shoes back on and walk as demurely as I can back to the main stairs.

“Sorry about that,” I mumble.

“Don’t be sorry, Billie. It was adorable,” Heath says.

“Maybe you should try it sometime, Heath. All work and no play has made you such a dull boy,” I mutter under my breath.

The older man laughs. “And you’re right, my dear. Heath really should let loose once in a while, and maybe this time he will. He barely ever allows himself to relax. I’m Harris Colman, by the way, and this is my granddaughter, Pam.” He turns to face Heath. “When she heard you were coming, she told me to wake her up no matter what time it was so she could meet your girl.”

Your girl?

I cast a questioning glance towards Heath but he ignores me, his attention on Pam, who is staring at me with wide hazel eyes. I shake Harris’ hand and then face her. “Hi, Pam. I’m Billie.”

“Wow! You look just like her,” she whispers. “Doesn’t she look exactly like Blythe, Gramps? An exact copy! Even her hair! And her nails!”

“She sure wasn’t kidding when she said she had a twin sister yesterday, was she?” Harris says before turning to face Heath again. “You just might still catch them before they leave, Heath, though there’s really no rush. It’s not like flight plans are a big secret.”

“Even if they were, it wouldn’t have mattered. Ethan’s tournament schedule is fixed for the year,” Heath says. “He’s got one coming up in Santa Barbara in four days, so that’s where he’s going to be, rain or shine. And I hear that some prince will be playing as well, which means Ethan and company have to be accounted for days ahead for security purposes.”

“Good! I figured you’d have an idea about his schedule despite recent developments. In that case, I hope you stay a few days and we can talk more about what Ethan came here to discuss. It’s not a big deal, nothing that can affect anything corporate-wise, but we’ll talk more over breakfast,” Harris says, glancing at me with a huge grin. “And if this is Billie’s first time on the island, it would be a crime to take her away from here so quickly.”

“It’s okay, really. I didn’t come here for a vacation,” I say. “We’re here for business — or rather, Heath’s business.”

Pam yawns again. “Sorry, I really just wanted to see if you were real,” she says. “Blythe told me about having an identical twin last night and I didn’t believe her. I mean, you could be Blythe and you’re just shitting me right now.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure I’m not Blythe,” I say as Heath casts a knowing glance towards me.
Oh, right. I’m doing the whole Not-Blythe thing again.

“I’m Billie,” I add.

“So are you guys dating then?” Pam asks. “Because that would be so cool! Twin sisters and brothers! Relationship goals, yeah!”

“You’re too young for those things, Pam,” Heath chuckles, “but we’re still a bit new though.”

I almost laugh out loud. It’ll be a cold day in hell before I’d ever date Heath, but then, what do little girls know about love — or forced alliances, for that matter?

But before I can say anything, Heath pulls me next to him, grinning, dimples deepening along his cheeks. “Don’t we make a beautiful couple?”

Pam squeals excitedly, clapping her hands and bringing her palms against her cheeks as she gazes at us with wide innocent eyes.

“This is even cuter than cute! I can’t wait to tell everyone!”

To my horror, she whips out a phone from her back pocket and in less time it would have taken me to switch on my flip phone and wait for it to power up, Pam has already taken two pictures of us and starts typing on the display.

“This will be so cool, Uncle Heath! Wait till my friends see this!” she exclaims, thrusting her phone towards us so we can see our picture with the caption she’d just typed.

Look at my handsome uncle and his gorgeous girlfriend! #notblythe #hernameisbillie 

“Kids and social media these days,” Harris says, shaking his head, though he’s grinning proudly.

“She’s not even thirteen!” I blurt out. “How can she be using it already?”

Pam’s smile disappears and she eyes me suspiciously before turning to look at Heath. “Please tell me she’s cool, Uncle Heath, like Blythe is, ’cause Blythe is totally cool. She even likes One Direction.”

“I guarantee you, Billie is awesome, or I wouldn’t be with her,” Heath says, smiling and still holding me right next to him, his fingers almost digging into my upper arm.

“Good,” Pam says, returning to look at me. “But if you’re worried about parental controls or whatever, Mom helped me set all my social media accounts up so it’s okay. Porn doesn’t interest me yet anyway.”

When I open my mouth to say something like —
did you just say porn?
— Heath’s grip tightens and I shut up, a wide fake smile somehow migrating to my lips to match his own, though inside, imaginary me is punching Heath’s smile from his face.

So the charade has begun, though why Heath neglected to tell me that we’re supposedly dating each other is something that will have to wait till we get to where we’re staying for the night, a separate guest house on Harris’ property overlooking the beach.

With Pam heading back to bed, Harris tells Heath that he’ll see us at the main house for breakfast in an hour, and that should we want to go down to the beach, all we have to do is follow the path along the side of the villa that leads directly to the water.

“You could have given me the heads up that I’m your girlfriend,” I say as Heath shuts the door. “This was never in the plan, Heath.”

“What would you have told them, Billie? That you’re really here to find Blythe and take her home with you because someone’s setting her up on embezzlement charges? Or maybe that you’re a business associate, who happens to be Blythe’s sister? Unfortunately, I don’t have time to do business with small souvenir shop owners though I do have time to date beautiful women from time to time — even fly them halfway around the world,” he says. He’s stern again, the smile gone from his face.

“Well, now that you said that, I can’t help but feel special,” I say wryly.

“I admit that we should have discussed our story back at the plane,” he says as I follow him along the foyer leading to the main living area. “But given that it’s the only thing I can think of-”

“That we’re dating?”

“Yes, that we’re dating. Besides, isn’t that what Blythe already believes, that you’re sleeping with the enemy? How do we know that Harris doesn’t know that you’re with me, given that they were here yesterday?” he asks. “Besides, how else can I expect people to believe that you’re not here against your will?”

“Who said I was-”

The rest of the sentence is quickly forgotten as soon as we turn the corner and I’m faced with the view of the beach and part of the Pitons against the backdrop of a clear blue sky. The ocean breeze blows through the wide open balcony that features an eternity pool, the sound of the flowing water a perfect compliment to the waves lapping against the shore just below the balcony. It’s like a dream come true, the walls on either side of us framing my full view of paradise.

“It’s beautiful,” I whisper.

“Knock yourself out,” Heath says as he hands me a digital camera and walks towards the couch where the staff left our suitcases. “I didn’t know which suitcase had your casual clothes, so I just had both brought down here.”

“You don’t even see it,” I say, staring after him as he unzips his backpack and pulls out his laptop.

“I’ve got work to do, Billie. I’m not here to have fun.” He sets his laptop on the dining table, flips it open and switches it on. When he catches me still staring at him, he shrugs. “The market’s about to open and there are things-”

“That’s not my point,” I say. “I don’t care if the markets are about to open for the trading day or that, yes, you do have to work. But you haven’t even looked at what’s in front of you. It’s as if it’s not even there.”

He turns to look at the view for a few seconds, before the pinging of his email program prompts him to press a key on his laptop. A split second later, he looks away from his screen and looks at the view in front of him. But like a child forced to look at something he doesn’t want to, he exhales and I’m expecting him to say, happy now?

“You don’t have to look at it, you know, if you don’t want to,” I say.

“Just don’t get used to it, Billie. This is all temporary,” he says just as his phone rings. He answers it immediately, his voice businesslike. “Tyler, what is it?”

As he turns away from me and types on his laptop, it’s like I’m not even there anymore. His brow is furrowed as he listens to what Tyler has to say, his eyes narrowing as he goes through some emails.  Blythe was right — he really is all work and no play.

I force myself to find something more casual to wear, opening one of the suitcases and rummaging through the stacks of clothes without messing them up too much. I’ve always been a terrible packer since I hardly ever go anywhere, so I’m doing my best to keep Alicia’s original arrangement of clothes and shoes untouched. It’s the first thing I photograph with the camera that Heath gives me, proof that once upon a time, I did have a killer wardrobe.

Still, I can’t help but feel disappointed that we have to leave so soon, which is ironic, because just 24 hours earlier I’d have given anything to be on a plane back to Sacramento. And now, it’s the last thing I want to do. I wish I could run down the path that leads to the beach and dig my toes into the sand for the rest of the day instead of having to sit through breakfast with Harris and Pam and look pretty.

If this is the world that Ethan offered Blythe from the beginning, then I don’t blame her for falling hard for him. I’d have been blind to everything else, too, considering we had to fight for everything we had while growing up, working together behind our make-shift lemonade stand right outside the shop doors when we were both only ten years old. And then later, as we grew older, Blythe worked after school at a local massage college processing applications, checking tests, and being the massage model while I helped mom and dad at the shop, handling inventory and filling in during days when they needed to get away for their usual weekend dates out in the river or just for a hike, coming home with their arms full of blackberries, their mouths and fingers stained black.

Yet even then, with our earnings, we could never have afforded anything as extravagant as this, Saint Lucia with our very own guest villa and a view of the ocean right beyond our window. This was a world so unknown to Blythe and I then, and now as I face the ocean and the view that no camera can ever do justice, I can understand how difficult it would be for anyone to turn away from all this. And as I turn to look back at the view of paradise behind me, I wonder if Blythe and I aren’t so different after all.

I settle for a two-piece bikini under a crocheted beach cover-up and a wide-brimmed hat that Alicia had had the foresight to include in my wardrobe. I braid my hair, letting it fall along my left shoulder before heading towards the door. Heath is still on the phone when I tell him I’ll be back in forty minutes though I doubt he even heard me. I grab a can of spray-on sunscreen and spray it all over myself as soon as I step out of the door. I’m a girl on a mission and I will get my butt into that clear blue water if it’s the only thing I get to do today.

I don’t care if I’m alone in this lonely stretch of beach, hidden away by lush rain forests on either side of me. The water feels cool against my skin as I wade deeper, letting it lap around my ankles at first, then my knees and finally, up to my thighs before I return back to the beach, pull off my cover up and my hat and dive in till the water’s up my chest and Heath can come get me if he has to but I’m not getting out of the water now. I only glance back at the beach house once, and I see Heath standing on the balcony watching me, still holding a phone to his ear. I don’t know why I’m feeling like he should be here with me, but grumpy Chairman of the Board or not, it would have been nice to enjoy this moment with someone.

By the time I return to the villa, I’m feeling pretty good about myself till the moment I see Heath waiting for me by the front door with a thick beach towel, which he drapes over my shoulders.

“Sorry I’m late. Should I shower first?” I ask but he shakes his head. “Dress?” He shakes his head again. “I think I need to put some make-up on, I look terrible-”

“You look beautiful, Billie, with or without make-up. Besides, we’re in Saint Lucia, not Miami Beach,” he says and that’s when I notice that he’s now wearing cargo shorts and a short-sleeved shirt, and flip-flops. Somehow I had no idea he had it in him, but I can’t help but admit that he looks amazingly…relaxed.

“So what’s our story?” I ask him as we take our time walking along the garden path leading to the main house.

“First of all, Harris Colman is one of the original directors of Kheiron Industries. He started the company along with my father, and has been on the board about 35 years, though these days, he’s more of an advisor to us young guns, and will probably step down at the end of the year,” he says. “But don’t be fooled by the grandfatherly act. He’s shrewd, and he didn’t end up as co-chairman next to my father without being as smart as he is.”

“Then how did your dad end up losing all that money in bad investments?  Couldn’t his friends have advised him against them?”

“My father was always a shrewd investor, but as he got older, he stopped being too critical of balance sheets. All you had to tell him was that you had a dream, and he’d invest in it, like he was making up for past mistakes,” he says as he glances up at a parrot flying overhead and landing in one of the branches of a tree. He stops before a row of flowers, giving me time to smell them as he continues speaking. “Don’t say anything about the embezzlement, nor about the documents. Pretend you know nothing.”

“Pretend I’m stupid, basically.”

“No, I didn’t say that. Just pretend it’s none of your business. Harris is also old-fashioned, just like my father was.  He doesn’t believe women can do a better job as men, especially in the boardroom-“

“I’m sure in the bedroom, he didn’t mind,” I scoff.

Heath shrugs. “Maybe it’s a generation thing, I don’t know. But this is what I grew up with, Billie, that when men talked business, women went to the other room and talked about their children, the PTA, or whatever the current fashion trend was.  But you don’t have to leave just because we’re talking business.”

“I’m not letting you discuss anything without me, Heath, not when you could be discussing Blythe and your plans of arresting her. He is a member of the board, which means he should know about the embezzlement.”

“Yet he hasn’t said anything,” Heath says slowly, “not to me, not even to Tyler, who is my co-chairman. Now if Harris is waiting for me to say something, then it would make sense if he said it to me now, in person, and that’s one reason why I’m here.”

“But only because Ethan came here first with whatever paperwork he got from  your mother,” I say.  “So does that mean you guys are basically spying on each other?”

Heath thinks for a moment.  “Business is much dirtier than it looks, Billie.”

“But are you sure Blythe is going to be okay?” I ask as we reach the top of the hill. “I’m just afraid that if Harris finds out and decides that the rest of the board should know about this embezzlement, then anything on your end to stall it will seem suspicious.”

“I’ll have to see what he knows first.”

“Is he close to Ethan?  Is that why Ethan came here? To show Harris what he took from your mother?  I mean, were they legal documents?”

“Ethan is his godson, and as far as what the document is, I’ll tell you more later. But for now, we’ve got an audience,” he says, stopping to pluck a few jasmine flowers from a shrub along the path and tucking the blooms in my braid.  It’s a simple gesture that does catch Harris’ attention, for if he’d been standing with his back to the balcony, he’s facing us now and watching the show unfold.

“You’re really putting on a show,” I tell him. “It’s actually not necessary, you know.”

“Can’t a man just tuck flowers in his girl’s hair?”

“First, I’m not your girl-”

“You are, as far as this trip is concerned. And don’t worry, there won’t be any sex, just like you said earlier,” he says. “So stop fighting me for once, Billie.”

“And second,” I pause, blushing as I gather my braid and see the white fragrant blooms tucked neatly between the sections, “thank you. Act or no, it’s still sweet.”

“You’re welcome, love,” he says though he narrows his eyes, waiting for me to react to his term of endearment. When I don’t react, he smiles. “Nothing to say? Good, guess there’s hope for you yet.”

“What do you mean, there’s hope-”

I don’t finish my sentence because Heath kisses me. It’s a gentle kiss and one that would have shut me up even if that hadn’t been his intention anyway. His kiss is soft and warm, almost tentative at first, his teeth catching my lower lip and sucking on it gently. And with his hands cradling my face, it’s perfect, especially for a girl like me who hasn’t been kissed like this in a long time.

But with Harris watching us from the balcony, I understand his kiss is not what it seems. It’s not like brothers haven’t dated sisters throughout history before, though Blythe and I have never done that, not when she and I ran with different crowds — her with the prom queens and me with the awkward nerds. Still, as I pull away from Heath, surprised that my hands have somehow made their way behind his neck, my fingers running lazily through his hair, I tell myself the same thing that Heath told me earlier, when I fancied myself in love with the view beyond the balcony.

Just don’t get used to it, Billie. This is all temporary.