Page 24 of Hate To Be Mine

Bernadette would be watching everything like a hawk, waiting for me to screw up so she could void the policy and prove to her father that I was exactly the irresponsible playboy everyone expected.

And my brothers would be pissed and vindicated. They would be able to say “I told you so.”

I wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction. Being responsible sucked.

I stood up and went to the mini-fridge, which had been stocked with water, juice, and yes, beer. I pulled one out, twisted off the cap, and took a long drink.

One beer wouldn’t hurt. I wasn’t getting drunk. I was just taking the edge off after a long day of travel and logistics and trying not to think about Bernadette in a sundress.

The beer was cold and surprisingly good. I took it out onto the patio and sat in one of the chairs, looking out at the ocean. It was late. Well, back home it was like two? Three in the morning? But on the island, we skipped a whole day and it was prime party time.

From somewhere nearby, I heard laughter and music. The crew was settling in, enjoying themselves. I should probably make an appearance, show my face, make sure everyone was happy and not getting into trouble.

But I stayed where I was, beer in hand, watching the ocean and thinking about tomorrow.

About proving myself. I would not disappoint Elizabeth, Adrian, or the memory of Dad.

My phone buzzed. A text from Briggs.

Briggs: Safe landing? Everything okay?

I typed back: All good. First shoot tomorrow. Wish me luck.

His response came quickly: You don’t need luck. You’ve got this.

I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe that I could actually pull this off without something going catastrophically wrong. But this was me after all. I wouldn’t say I was the classic fuck-up of the family; that was Dash’s job. I came in a close second.

I liked to have fun. I liked to let things roll off my shoulders. It was easier to pretend nothing bothered me than to actually acknowledge there were feelings under the hard abs and panty-dropping smile. It was easier to let my brothers think I was an easygoing guy without a care in the world. They all had their own shit to deal with. They didn’t need to worry about me.

The beer was already half gone and I realized it was still early. Maybe one more wouldn’t hurt.

10

BERNADETTE

The first photoshoot location was breathtaking. I wished I could simply enjoy it rather than look for all the hazards. It was a stretch of coastline where black volcanic rock met turquoise water. There were dramatic cliffs rising up from the beach, which was where the shoot was happening. It was the kind of place that photographers dreamed about, the kind of natural drama that made everything look just a little better.

It was also a safety nightmare.

I’d arrived at the location almost an hour before the call time. I wanted to scope things out before the crew showed up. The paths were uneven. The rocks were slippery in places from sea spray. Those cliffs—those gorgeous, photogenic cliffs—had crumbling edges and no safety barriers whatsoever.

It was the perfect scene for a murder mystery. I could see it in my mind’s eye. A woman wearing a billowing dress is walking along the cliffs with the violent sea below. It’s windy and out of nowhere someone pushes her. Just a tiny push or slip and it would be game over.

The wind wasn’t blowing and the sea wasn’t churning, but the mechanics were the same. I had no idea if the models were going to be wearing heels. I was sure they were confident in their stability, but I wasn’t.

By seven when everyone started arriving, I had already documented a dozen potential issues in my notebook. Then Sebastian showed up.

He stumbled out of one of the vans wearing sunglasses despite the early hour, clutching an energy drink like it was keeping him alive. His hair was disheveled in a way that could either be artfully styled or he’d just rolled out of bed. Given the slight wince when someone spoke too loudly near him, I was betting on the latter.

He was absolutely hungover.

And he wasn’t the only one. Half the crew looked like they’d been up all night, which they probably had. I heard the party from my room. Annika and I stayed in. I had put in earplugs and tried to ignore it, telling myself that what they did on their own time wasn’t my concern.

Except now it was. They were supposed to be sharp and safety-aware but everyone looked like death warmed over. That was the last thing we needed for a cliffside shoot.

I was going to give myself a stroke. I could feel my blood pressure skyrocketing. I was too young to have high blood pressure like this.

I watched the crew set up. They all seemed to know what they were doing. They didn’t talk much, but there were a lot of grunts and gestures. And a lot of coffee. And Red Bull. I monitored every cup and can to make sure nothing got tossed anywhere but in the trashcan. I didn’t bitch or scold. I simply picked things up and quietly put them in the right place.