The man I love is getting married.
And it isn't to me.
I've been in love with Jonathan Lewis for as long as I can remember.
I loved him as a girl.
I loved him as a teenager.
I loved him as an adult.
I love him still.
But he doesn't love me.
In fact, I'm fairly sure he doesn't remember I exist.
* * *
“Something's wrong,” Julie says.
“What?” I glance about, concerned and looking for something out of place. I don't see anything particularly wrong. I'm just sitting on the beach with a paper plate full of fruit like I always do after work. But, as Julie was my coworker up until an hour ago, I'm afraid she's going to tell me that there was something wrong with my job performance.
She motions to the plate resting on my knees. “Something's wrong, isn't it? You've been here for ten minutes and you've barely eaten anything.” She frowns at me and then inspects the plate a little closer. “And you haven't eaten your mango. You never have uneaten mango.”
I look down at my plate and see that she's right. There's still half of a mango among the other fresh fruits. I've barely eaten anything, which, given that I love to eat, is definitely strange.
“I'm just distracted,” I say with a shrug.
“Are you nervous about the flight home? The conference?” Julie asks, sitting down in the warm sand beside me. The Caribbean sun is just starting to set, turning the turquoise blue waters into reds and golds. We're sitting just outside the hotel we work at together. Well, that we used to work at together. Today was my last day. I'm going back to New York tomorrow morning. I have a conference and then I'm hoping to get a new job.
I'll miss these summer sunsets. There's something magical about the summer sun here. I've gotten used to the heat and the humidity. The food is different and the fruit is sweeter here. I love this place. I'll miss just about everything here on the islands.
“Something like that,” I tell her. I set my plate in the sand off to the side and shrug.
“Okay. Now I know something's wrong. You're not eating any of the mango on your plate.” She frowns at me, her big brown eyes concerned. She's only a couple years older than me, so we've become friends as well as co-workers. “Who died? Is your dad okay?”
“My dad's fine,” I assure her. “He just had another scan and they didn't find anything.”
The doctors found a cancerous polyp in my dad's intestine two years ago. There had been surgeries and medicines. I'd gone back to New York as much as I could during it all, and luckily the doctors don't see signs of any regrowth. I still worry about him, though.
“Well, that's good.” Julie is still looking at me like I'm some sort of puzzle. “So what is it? Something is bothering you. You never pass up fresh mango. Are you worried about getting another job? You'll have one in no time.”
Strangely, getting a new job isn't on the top of my list of worries right now. It should be, but it's not. I sigh. “Have you ever heard me mention Jonathan? The younger brother of the family my dad works for?”
“You mean Jonathan Lewis, son of billionaire James Lewis and heiress Deborah Lewis, brother of also billionaire business owner Christopher Lewis. Greek God Jonathan. God's gift to humanity? Perfection in human form? The most handsome, kind, smart, funny, and amazing man to have ever walked the planet?” Julie ticks his attributes off on her fingers before turning to face me. “You mean that Jonathan?”
“I guess I have mentioned him,” I say, feeling a little embarrassed. Surely I wasn't that bad?
“Only a couple or seven hundred times,” she says with a dismissive wave of her hand. “You lived in the same house as him, right?”
“Basically. My dad is a butler for the Lewis family. Part of his pay is that he gets an apartment over the storage area to live in. When we moved there, it was perfect for a widower and his young daughter. I grew up on the Lewis house grounds, but I wasn't exactly a preferred playmate. You know, being the butler's daughter and all.”
“Don't dirty yourself with the help,” Julie says, feigning a posh British accent. “I get it. Living close, but socially miles away.”
I nod. “Exactly. I was always an outsider looking in at them.”
“You're the little mermaid watching the prince,” Julie says. She leans back, elbows in the sand and her eyes on the sunset. “What has your precious Jonathan done to get you so despondent you won't eat?”
“He's getting married.” The words stick in my throat like I've swallowed too many pieces of taffy.
“I'm so sorry, Nora.” Julie sits up a little and pats my shoulder, her face full of sympathy. “How'd you find out?”
“It was in the gossip column of the paper.”
Julie sighs. “Why are you reading the gossip column? You don't live there. You don't need that.”
“It's the only way I can find out what Jonathan is doing,” I explain. “My father won't tell me anything and he's gotten the other household staff to stay quiet too.”
“I can't imagine why,” Julie says with an obvious eye roll. I stick my tongue out at her.
“It's just a harmless crush,” I tell her. “I just want to know how he's doing.”
“Right. Harmless.” Julie shakes her head and sighs. “Okay. So the love of your life is getting married. I'm assuming it's not to you.”
“Nope.” I shake my head. “Despite the fact that we basically grew up in the same house, I'm not actually one-hundred percent certain he even knows my name.”
Julie winces. “Ouch.”
“Yeah.” I sigh. I look out at the sunset and feel like everything in my world is falling apart. I know that's hyperbole, but it still feels hopeless. I'm used to seeing him with beautiful women on his arm, but he goes through relationships like regular people go through plastic cups: quickly and without any kind of actual permanence.
I never thought he'd ever actually find someone. I never thought that I'd have to face the fact that it wasn't me.
“You going to be okay?” Julie asks.
I point to my uneaten fruit. “What do you think?”
“Right. Not okay. Not even a little bit,” Julie replies. “At least you're going home tomorrow. Maybe you can talk some sense into him.”
I chuckle, but there's not much joy in it. “You have way too much faith in me. I get near him and I turn into this mumbling dolt. I'm suddenly thirteen years old and awkward as hell every time I talk to him. It's not pretty.”
“Wow. You've got it bad for him,” Julie says, shaking her head a little. She looks over at me. “Maybe you can stay here a little longer? I'm sure the boss would allow it.”
“I don't have a job here anymore,” I remind her. “They closed my position and hired a social media guru.”
“It's not going to last,” Julie tells me. “You had bookings up thirty percent.”
“Yeah, and then I asked for a raise,” I say with a shrug. “Apparently, what I do isn't worth paying me for.”
“They're stupid,” Julie assures me. “They're just used to getting it for practically free.”
The hotel here did get a good deal on me.
Deborah, Jonathan's mother, got me this position a few years ago, but I made it my own. I have a degree in business, and somehow that made Deborah think that I should work as a hospitality specialist at a very elite hotel in the Caribbean. She got me an internship and I tried it out.
Turns out, I have my father's skills in hospitality. Combined with the business sense I got from my mother, I am really good at running hotels.
I've worked here long enough for peanuts. I have the experience and skills now that I deserve more than the bare minimum. I've made this company hundreds of thousands of dollars, yet they won't give me a dollar raise.
So, I'm going to an industry conference in New York and getting myself a new job.
“I did consider staying,” I tell Julie, looking around the beach. The island feels like home. “But I need to think of my career.”
“So you're going home. You could get a job anywhere in the world, but you're going all the way back to New York.”
“Yes. Because of my dad,” I reply. “I know he's had clean scans, but I'm still worried about him. He's all alone. I want to be closer to him.”
Julie gives me a look that says she doesn't entirely believe me. “Right. Jonathan didn't even factor in a little bit to the decision to go back to New York instead of literally anywhere else in the world.”
“Fine. Jonathan is part of the reason.” I sigh, knowing that she's right but not enjoying being called out on it. “But only a little bit.”
“Your crush on him is not healthy,” Julie tells me.
“Why do you think Deborah sent me to the Caribbean? Why do you think my dad practically pushed me out of the airplane to get here?” I pick up a handful of the pure white sand and play with it in my hands. “I know Jonathan's a dream. He's so far out of my league that we're playing different sports. He lives in a freaking castle and I'm just the butler's daughter. The feelings I have for him are all in my head. I know that.”
“But?” Julie smiles gently at me, knowing that there's more.
“But I need to see him one last time,” I tell her. “I'm more confident and sophisticated now. Maybe he'll see me as me, instead of the shy little girl that lives over the garage.”
“You are the very definition of confidence and sophistication. And I'm only being a little sarcastic.” She smiles at me and bumps me gently with her shoulder. “You know you'll always have a home here.”
“I know, and thank you,” I tell her. I give her a hug that she returns. Together, we look out at the nearly dark sky. It's almost time to leave this paradise.
“Did you like it here?” Julie asks.
“I love it here,” I say honestly. “If it weren't for my dad, I would probably never leave.”
“And Jonathan,” Julie corrects.
“And Jonathan,” I agree.
“You even blush when you say his name,” Julie says with a laugh. She shakes her head. “What about the older brother? You always talk about Jonathan, but never the other one.”
“Christopher?” I don't feel the same warmth I do when I say Jonathan's name.
“You don't like him?” Julie asks, shifting to a more comfortable position on the sand.
“He's fine,” I say with a shrug. “I liked him more when we were little. He's always been serious, though. Even as a kid he had a hard time having fun. When his dad died, he just dove into being a businessman completely.”
“You say that like it's a bad thing,” Julie observes.
“It's not, it's just...” I stop and think for a second how to describe Christopher. “Where Jonathan is playful, Christopher is stern. Jonathan is loving, but Christopher has no heart. Jonathan is admittedly, a playboy. He's always falling in love. Christopher? I'm sure he's had dates, but... he's cold and calculating. Business is everything to him. He makes pre-ghost Ebeneezer Scrooge look like a freaking Santa Claus.”
“Wow.” Julie tilts her head, imagining what Christopher must be like.
“He works on Christmas,” I continue. “He asked for a fax machine for his tenth birthday. I don't think the man even knows how to have fun. The only reason he knows how to smile is that it's a good business tactic.”
“I can see why you want to be with the younger brother,” Julie says. “Christopher sounds awful.”
“It's not like I have a chance with either of them,” I tell her. “I don't know if Christopher is even capable of love. His idea of a long term relationship is letting his date order dessert. And Jonathan...” My face falls and my chest tightens. “He's getting married. He finally found a love that sticks.”
“You going to be okay?” Julie asks again, putting her arm around me.
“I'm probably going to pine away and never love again,” I say dramatically. “I'll just hoard cats. It'll be fine.”
Julie laughs, giving me a gentle hug with the arm around me. “I'm going to miss you.”
“Same,” I tell her. I look over at my fruit. I'm still not hungry. “You want my plate?”
“Sure,” Julie says, taking it from me. “You should go home and pack.”
I hand her the plate and then stand up. I make sure to move downwind of her before I dust the fine sand from my work uniform.
“You'll tell me how it goes with Jonathan?” Julie asks, popping a piece of mango into her mouth.
“Every time he so much as looks in my direction, I'll call you,” I assure her. I give her a self-deprecating smile. “So, you'll hear from me around next Christmas.”
I'm home. I feel it in my bones as the cab rolls past the immense iron gates. I hope that maybe I'll catch a glimpse of Jonathan. Maybe he'll be out in the garden and I'll be able to pass innocently by and say hello. It would be nice just to see him. The house comes into view. It's practically a castle. There are two tennis courts, multiple swimming pools, gardens, gazebos, patios, tea gardens, a koi pond, and a solarium. The house has sixteen bedrooms, a matching number of bathrooms, and three kitchens. The wine cellar is bigger than most houses. There's a good reason why this house needs a butler. The house is bigger and has more amenities than some hotels. The cab drops me off in front of the main house rather than the tiny apartment above the storage area. It's not a far walk, so I don't protest. I can pretend to this one cab driver that I belong here. That I'm not broke and from a poor family. I pay him, giving a good tip. As far as this cab driver is concerned, I'm the bill
The conference is packed to the point of being overwhelming. Every travel agent, hotel manager, social media guru, and everyone with an interest in becoming one is here with at least three others. I didn't expect it to be this crowded.Suddenly, I'm a little more nervous about my job prospects. I'm really good at what I do, but it's still hard to stand out in a crowd like this. How am I supposed to wow a company when there's fifteen other people trying to do the same thing?I attend a couple of sessions, and eat the conference luncheon, but I'm not really learning anything new. These classes are geared toward beginners, and I'm anything but that. There's only one more class for the day, but I can't really stomach the idea of sitting through another basic class on why having a social media presence is necessary, so I go out to the hotel lobby.The big hotel foyer leads to a bar and a restaurant as well as a comfortable seating area. There's a fireplace, but it isn't turned on since it'
I'm on cloud nine. If there were a cloud ten or eleven, I'd be on cloud fifteen. I'm going out on a date with Jonathan Lewis. The man I have loved since boys stopped having cooties. I'm positively giddy. He holds my hand as we walk out of the hotel lobby and across the street. My heels click on the sidewalk as we walk through the twilight. I see people look over at us and smile. I hope that they see two people who are meant to be together. The restaurant is way out of my price range. Most nice restaurants in the city are. Once again, I'm sure this is fate. The universe is setting me up for something amazing. Why else would I be wearing my best dress? Why else would Jonathan happen to be having dinner in the restaurant across from my conference. It's fate. It has to be. Jonathan goes to the check in desk and gives his name. The lobby for the restaurant is still packed with people, but the waitress simply waves Jonathan and me inside. I try to ignore the angry glares directed my w
I get to the hotel extra early the next morning, taking the first train into the city. I don't want Jonathan to see me leaving, so I make sure to leave well before he is even awake. I am excited about this surprise. I'm not sure how Jonathan is going to react when I tell him who I am. I hope he doesn't lose all interest in me once he finds out who I am. We had such a connection yesterday that I can't imagine that he'd be anything but excited. He's dated people not in his social sphere before. Still, I'm nervous. I barely slept last night and the few hours I did sleep were filled with wonderful dreams of Jonathan. For once, my dreams actually had some substance and weren't completely made up of conversations I'd wished we'd have. He isn't coming until the end of the day. I wish I had his phone number so I could tell him to come earlier. I hate waiting. The conference does nothing to help me pass the time time. I'm too distracted to focus on the classes. I make a couple of contacts,
Christopher sighs and puts his hands on the table. “No, he's not technically engaged. But he does have a ring. And he has asked her father for permission. He just hasn't asked her yet.” I sink into my chair, this news hitting me like a punch to the gut. “I think he has a fear of commitment,” Christopher continues. “He keeps pushing it off. He keeps finding excuses and looking for reasons to back out.” “So he lied to me.” I stare at Christopher's hands on the table. They are beautiful hands with long fingers and carefully trimmed nails. I'm waiting for the tears, but they haven't come yet. Perhaps I'm still just in too much shock. Maybe it's just the public setting. “Technically, no. He's not engaged.” I look up at Christopher. “But he really is,” I say. “He has someone who loves him. Someone that isn't me. He didn't tell me he was taken.” “Can you blame him?” Christopher shakes his head. “The man who can barely commit to wearing the same shirt an entire day met a beautiful, funn
“Did you have a nice time at the conference yesterday?” Dad asks. He comes and joins me at the small kitchen table, coffee cup in hand. He's almost ready for work, his suit pressed and perfect. There are no wrinkles on his pants and his vest and jacket hang neatly from a hanger by the door. They're perfectly pressed, too. “The conference was fine,” I tell him. It's not a total lie. The conference itself wasn't bad. “You sure? You look exhausted this morning.” Dad raises one eyebrow, the coffee mug halfway to his mouth. He has the paper in the other hand. “I've just got a lot on my mind,” I reply. I spent most of the night tossing and turning, thinking about Jonathan and Christopher. I still don't know what I want to do. I don't know what the right thing to do it. “Okay. Well, I'm off to work. Apparently there's been some sort of incident today. It's going to be a busy day.” Dad loses the stern look and smiles at me. He gets up and rinses his mug in the sink before putting it in t
The helicopter is waiting on the pad for us. The blades already whirl and spin as we approach, ready for us to take off. “We're taking the helicopter?” I ask, sure Christopher had said something about a plane. I realize that I have no idea where we are going. Christopher looks at the helicopter and then at me. “Saves time,” he explains as if it should be obvious. “The plane's waiting for us at the tarmac.” I frown, wondering what a helicopter like this must cost and what the hell I have gotten myself into. “What, you'd rather sit in traffic?” Christopher asks me. With that he walks out to the helicopter, right under the blades, and steps inside. He doesn't duck as he walks. He doesn't look afraid. He walks into the helicopter the way I walk into a subway car. Like it's something I've done all my life. I swallow hard and follow him. I duck low under the swirling blades. They're noisy and I can feel the wind they make. I pull myself up the stairs and into the cabin of the helicopt
I finish my lemonade, but before I can even set the glass down, I have a fresh one. When you are the only customer, the service is pretty amazing. It probably helps when the boss is flying with you, too. Christopher finally finishes his business call. He looks to put the phone in a suit coat pocket, but since he's dressed casually, he has to adjust and put the phone in his pants. He looks awkward and annoyed. “Sorry about that,” he says as if we didn't just have a forty-five minute interruption. “Business.” “It's always business with you,” I reply. “That's my lot in life.” He shrugs, but doesn't deny it. He motions to the file in my hands. “So, what do you think?” “It looks like a great resort and hotel,” I tell him. “I'm not sure if it's a great price, though. I'm afraid I don't know what private islands are going for these days.” “It's a seller's market,” he says with a shrug. “If the amenities are what they claim to be, it could be a good investment. The nearby ecology sanc