Private Party (29 page)

Still, work wasn’t quite enough to keep her spirits up all the time. As she headed back to her little studio apartment for the evening, a familiar heaviness settled in her chest.

She looked around the single room, with its big bed, utilitarian kitchenette, a single chair in front of the desk, and felt the crushing weight of her loneliness crash down around her.

She missed her friends in San Francisco, especially Wendy. It was still too early to call her—Wendy would still be at work.

But homesickness was the least of her problems.

She missed Chris. God, how she missed him! Everything reminded her of him. The smell of the ocean reminded her of the scent of his tan skin. Every well-built guy with sun-streaked brown hair turned her head. But only for about a millisecond, until her brain kicked back in to remind her that Chris was at Holley Cay. And that he didn’t deserve her moping, not when he’d kicked her out so coldly, dismissing her as no more than a spoiled, useless society princess. He was so convinced he knew her, he hadn’t bothered to look beyond the surface.

It never failed to bring tears to her eyes, the memory of his parting words. The way he’d let her go without a fight, as though she wasn’t even worth the effort.

She should hate him, she told herself for the thousandth time. Or at the very least, be very, very angry with him. How could she love someone who had no faith in her? Was he really any better than her father PrivateParty

or Brian? Like them, Chris fully expected her to tuck her tail between her legs and trot obediently home.

She poured herself a bowl of cereal. Not the world’s best dinner, but it was all she had in her apartment.

If only Chris could see her now. This was hardly the pampered life he no doubt thought she’d returned to. That is, if he bothered to think of her at all.

That depressing thought was nearly enough to make her lose her appetite. But she crunched resolutely and gave herself the same pep talk she’d given herself last night, and the night before, and the night before that.
I’m going to get over him. And once I do, I’ll meet someone new. Someone who will love me
and appreciate me for the smart, capable, independent woman that I am.

Her slightly bolstered spirits stayed up for precisely forty-four minutes, until she came across
Blue
Lagoon
as she flicked through the stations. The sight of the two lovers cavorting on the beach and in the water reminded her so much of her last day with Chris that she burst into tears.

Her phone rang, and she took a deep breath and blew her nose before answering.

“Hello?” she said, her voice cracking.

“Jules, my God, are you okay?”

Wendy’s concerned voice on the other end elicited a fresh wave of sobs.

“I’m f-fine,” she sputtered, just so Wendy wouldn’t think anyone had died or anything.

“I just wanted to check up on you. I guess you’re not doing so good?”

“I’m fine,” Julie repeated, and this time her voice only trembled a little. She poured herself a glass of ice water to wash away the sticky, salty taste of tears. “I just—it’s so stupid—I’m watching
Blue Lagoon,
and I just can’t stop thinking of Chris.” Julie strove to get a handle on herself. “I know it’s silly, I mean, I’ve kept it together this entire time.” Privately, at least. As far as Wendy knew, Chris was yet another guy who had screwed Julie over, and Julie was relieved to be rid of him.

The truth was, Julie was embarrassed to admit, even to Wendy, that she’d been stupid enough to fall in love with him.

“Jules, you were in love with him, and the guy broke your heart,” Wendy said.

Julie drew herself up, surprised. “I’m not in love with him,” she said, her voice sorely lacking in conviction.

PrivateParty

Wendy chuckled wearily. “I know you’re trying to put on this tough act for everyone, but remember who you’re talking to.”

Julie flopped down on her loveseat and exchanged
Blue Lagoon
for MTV.

“I’m that transparent, huh?”

“To me, yeah.”

“I don’t know why I can’t get over him. What ever happened to that theory that it takes twice as long to get over a relationship as the relationship lasted? Or is it half as long as the relationship lasted? Either way, it’s been two months! I should be over him by now, not falling apart every time I see a couple rolling around on the beach.” At least the self-directed anger felt better than self-pity. “And I just can’t get over the way he let me leave. As far as he knew, I was getting back together with Brian, and he didn’t even care.”

Wendy murmured some comforting words and was silent for a few moments. Then, “Actually, that gets to my other reason for calling. I thought about not telling you at all, but then I realized I would be no better than your parents, doing what I thought was best for you, rather than letting you decide for yourself.”

Tiny hairs prickled up on the back of Julie’s neck. “Let’s hear it, then.”

“Yesterday, I got a call from Chris. I would have called you before now, but with the time change I decided to wait until you were out of the office.”

Julie’s heart jerked in her chest, then started pounding so hard she could feel the vibration in her fingers and toes. Ruthlessly reminding herself not to get her hopes up, she asked, “What did he want?”

“He was trying to get in touch with you. He’d tried you at your old number and at the Winston. He even called Brian. He finally called me as a last resort.”

“Did you tell him where I am?” In the split second it took for Wendy to answer, Julie sent out a fervent prayer. What if he tried to contact her? What would she do? Worse, what if he did know, and hadn’t tried to get in touch with her, and had no intention of doing so?

“No.”

Julie’s eyes closed as the breath she’d been holding whooshed out of her lungs. But her relief was immediately followed by anger at Wendy’s next words.

PrivateParty

“I told him you were fine, but that if he cared about you at all, he should stay out of your life.”

“Why would you tell him that?”

“Because I thought that was right. But then he called back and left a message and…now I’m not so sure.”

“What did he say?”

“Stuff.” Wendy was holding out on her, and so obviously not trying to hide it.

“Why won’t you just tell me what he said?”

“Because he said things that are best said in person. I didn’t want to give him your information without asking you, but I think you should call him. He seemed really worried when he found out you’d been cut off.”

“Great, he’s worried. Probably still thinks I’m barely surviving without Daddy’s bank account. He was probably calling for his own peace of mind.” Despite her harsh words, Julie couldn’t entirely squelch the sensation of hope, pushing its way free of the knot of confusion in her gut.

“I think it’s more than that,” Wendy said, still evasive. “You really should call him and find out. Or better yet, go visit.” As though it were that simple.

“Two months ago you were telling me good riddance, that I was better off without him. Why do you think it’s such a good idea for me to go chasing after him now?” Wendy paused, mulling it over. “Let’s just say I think he’s realized his mistake.” Wendy paused, then chuckled. “I’m lucky I’m not in the same room with you, aren’t I?” Julie looked down at her clenched fist. Wendy was right. If she were there in person Julie might have punched her by now.

“What if he sends me away again?” Despite the seed of hope that Wendy was right, the raw wound inflicted by Chris’s casual dismissal was far from healed. What if Wendy was wrong? She didn’t know if she could handle another crushing rejection from Chris.

“You were tough enough to get back on your feet—and quickly I might add—when your dad pulled the rug out from under you. I think you can handle Chris and whatever happens after that. Besides, I think chances are good this will end the way you want it to.”

“Thanks, Wen. I love you.”

PrivateParty

“Love you, too, girlfriend. Now go get him.”

PrivateParty

18

“S
he’s having the wedding where?” Chris asked Carla over a plate of coconut banana crepes they’d had sent up for a working breakfast.

“The Ritz St. Thomas,” Carla said, drenching a crepe in warm maple syrup.

“But that’s so, so,” Chris searched for the right phrase. “Pedestrian,” he said finally.

Carla arched an eyebrow.

Chris winced at his own snobbishness. “Jesus, I sound like my father.”

“Pedestrian or no, Christina’s assistant said that her highness was particularly impressed with the woman in charge of their events department. Said she felt more confident about their ability to meet the princess’s standards.”

A flush of anger stole up Chris’s face. “What, like this is Motel 6?”

“She did say that in terms of sheer beauty, Holley Cay was far superior, but in the end she and her staff thought the Ritz was more capable of hosting the event.” Chris swore loudly.

“Face it, Chris, we need someone who really knows how to manage these things. We’ve done okay so far, mostly through dumb luck. But we can’t seem to figure out how to do one of these big events PrivateParty

without shorting the other guests, and that’s just not fair.” Chris tugged at his lower lip, thinking. “You said it was the events person at the Ritz who sold them?” Carla nodded.

Without a word Chris jumped up and grabbed his wallet. “Call Max and tell him I need a ride over to St.

Thomas, ASAP.”

“What are you doing?”

“Poaching from the competition.”

“Thank you. We’re very excited at the opportunity to host her highness’s nuptials. I’ll send you some figures next week, and we can begin ironing out the details.” Julie hung up, then stared at her phone. She hadn’t called Chris the night before. She’d gone to their Web site, found the main number for Holley Cay, and had the phone in her hand before she stopped herself.

The office would be closed, and she didn’t know Chris’s private number. And what were the chances that he would be at home at nine in the evening? Most likely he was mingling with the guests, making sure everything was perfect in the fantasy world he’d built for them.

Even worse, maybe he was having dinner with a beautiful, single vacationer, one who didn’t come with enough family baggage to sink the
Titanic
.

Once that depressing thought had taken root in her mind, she’d decided to put off her call until this morning, when he would be in his office, alone. At least for the time being.

She shook off the negative thought. If she was going to do this, she needed to have faith, if only for a few minutes, that maybe, just maybe, Chris was pining away for her, too.

Call him,
the voice inside her head screamed.

Julie snatched up the phone and dialed before she could think about it.

“Good afternoon, Holley Cay Resort, how may I direct your call?” Julie requested Chris’s office and closed her eyes, heart pounding. She took several deep, calming PrivateParty

breaths and focused on the light reggae hold music chirping out of the phone. A little cheesy. Chris should really change that.

Hi Chris, it’s Julie. I heard you were trying to get in touch with me.

Too impersonal.

Chris, it’s Julie. I can’t stop thinking about you and I want to see you as soon as possible.

Truthful, but too needy.

Chris, I’ve loved you since I was eighteen and I wish you’d never left so I could have married you and
had your babies and never ended up in this awful mess with Brian.

Also truthful, but borderline crazy. And, to be fair, putting a bit too much of the blame on Chris. Sure, he’d left, but she was the one who never told Chris how she felt, and taken up with Brian in the first place.

Chris, I love you. I want to be with you, and I’m hoping we can take what we had and make it into
something real and lasting.
The line clicked and Julie braced herself to say the words out loud.

“Chris Dennison’s office, Carla speaking.”

It took a moment for Julie to compose herself. “Carla, hi, it’s Julie Driscoll. I really need to talk to Chris.”

“Dang, he just left, like, an hour ago. It was the weirdest thing. He said something about the competition and took off. I have no idea where he went.”

“Do you know when he’ll be back?”

“No clue. Want to leave a number in case he calls in?”

“No, I’ll just try back later.” Chris would know immediately that the number was from a location in the Virgin Islands. Julie wanted to tell him herself that she was still in the Caribbean. Needed to see his reaction. Or hear it, as it were.

Julie shuffled through her paperwork. After the adrenaline rush she’d experienced while dialing the phone wore off, she felt completely deflated.

Suddenly her assistant burst in. “Julie, I’m sorry to interrupt, but there’s this guy here to see you. He PrivateParty

won’t tell me—”

Julie looked up in time to see a large, tan hand push the door all the way open. A tall, well-built man pushed his way past Julie’s assistant.

Her pen slipped from her numb fingers and her stomach did a triple flip with a twist as she looked up into those achingly familiar midnight blue eyes.

“I’m sorry to bother you but…” Chris’s voice trailed off as he recognized the woman gaping at him from her seat behind the massive desk. He shook his head. It couldn’t possibly be—

Julie snapped her mouth closed and tried to look composed, but Chris didn’t even try to stop himself from flying across the room and gathering her in his arms. Julie. Chris buried his nose in her hair, wrapped his arms around her, and lifted her off the ground. Her fresh, flowery scent fogged his brain, and the familiar weight of her felt so good that for a moment he couldn’t even speak.

Julie wasn’t suffering from the same affliction.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, trying to pull away. He tightened his arms around her, not about to let her break free. “How did you find me? Wendy said she didn’t tell you where I was—” He cut her off, wrapping his hand around the back of her head to hold her still for his all-consuming kiss. He thrust his tongue against hers, savored her sweet salty taste. He would answer all of her questions later. Right now he wanted to savor his impossibly good luck at finding her again. He knew this time, he would never let her go.