The house hasn’t been this full since…well, since ever. One of the plans for building this giant house on a neighboring island was to have a place to get away and host parties and events without having them connected to the resort. That never really panned out. Turns out it’s much easier to host events at the resort itself, and we don’t have a lot of friends.
Except for Avery, of course, but even he tends toward The Sands these days. The Merit Island house has more or less become my private second residence. It’s just as well, I suppose, as I was the one who paid for most of it. And I wouldn’t consider myself upset about how it all turned out. After a few months of my city life, complete with the commute, the firm, courtroom battles, and constant cell service, I’m more than ready for some time completely alone on what sometimes feels like a deserted island.
But that’s all different now. The thought of spending another night alone in this house gives me feelings that I’m not entirely prepared to face.
I don’t want to be alone. I want Victoria here with me.
It’s probably for the best that we’ve got twenty interlopers for the night. I keep catching myself almost saying things I don’t actually know if I want to say.
I mean, my mouth wants to say them.
Stay. Come back to New York with me. I’m catching feelings for you.
But my mind has issued a gag order.
I load up my arms with pans of meat from the cooler we brought with us from The Sands and back through the glass patio doors to where Max is getting the grill ready.
“It’s not often we get to feed a crowd over here,” he says good naturedly, helping me to set the pans down on the wide concrete ledge surrounding the patio.
“I was just thinking the same thing. You know, I bet we haven’t had a party here since Halloween the first year The Sands was open.”
“Usually, it’s just you inviting Petunia and I over for dinner.”
I catch the teasing tone and smile. Of course, Max, our resident old sage, would have figured out exactly what’s going on with me. “Sorry I haven't reached out this trip. I’ve been a bit tied up.”
Max’s eyebrows raise nearly a foot as he grins at me.
If I was the blushing type, I might just have one right now.
“She’s a lovely woman,” he says simply, apparently deciding not to call out my inadvertent innuendo.
“Yes. It was unexpected.”
“These things usually are.”
I watch him load the hot grills with chicken thighs and consider whether I want to elaborate. I’m not really a feelings sharing kind of person, but it would be foolish to turn down such a great opportunity for advice.
God knows I need it.
“The most unexpected part is how deeply connected I feel to her already. I seem to be growing attached.”
Max looks up at me and cocks his head to the side. He’s no longer grinning, but the amusement is still there. “You say that like it’s a jail sentence.”
I shrug, taking the empty pan and handing him another. “She’s not exactly what I would have imagined for myself. Hell, she’s who I would have imagined for Ains.”
“You’re concerned about the age difference.”
“Yes, of course. And how that age difference brings with it a difference in…I don’t know what to call it. Developmental stage? Season of life? She’s barely old enough to have graduated college, which she didn’t by the way. She’s looking at her possibilities in life for the first time. I’m at the other end of that spectrum, turned back to face her, and it’s hard not to want to offer advice or guidance all the time.”
“Is she coming to you for advice or guidance?”
I laugh. “Oh, no. She’s got it all figured out.”
“But you know better,” Max says, not looking up.
He doesn't have to. I know just what the old man’s face is doing right now—holding back a smile. “I’ve been around a lot longer and know the pitfalls of certain decisions.”
“Do you?”