AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Sounds like Gran.”
“She said she didn’t want me to get too big for my britches just because I had a little spending money in my pockets.”
Sadie scoffs. “A little spending money. That’s funny.”
“Itwasjust spending money,” I say. “Definitely more than I needed, but I was still a kid. It’s not like I owned my own yachtthen.”
“Right, right, you didn’t start making exorbitant purchases until you were an adult. That makes sense.”
She gives my elbow a playful nudge, which takes the bite out of her words, but I get the sense there’s truth in them anyway. Most women are impressed by my wealth, but Sadie couldn’t be moreunimpressed.Which would ordinarily be a good thing—I’ve definitely had my fair share of women interested in me only for what I own.
But for Sadie, it’s more than being unimpressed. She’s almost antagonistic.
And I get it. I deserve it, even. Sort of. I’ve gone out of my way to cultivate the very image she disdains, so I can’t be annoyed that it bothers her. But I don’t want Sadie to think that image is the real me—that I’m lazy and good for nothing but throwing fancy parties and wearing expensive clothes. I can’t argue about having inherited a lot of money. I did. But what I inherited is only a pittance of what I’ve turned it into through my own hard work.
I could just show her. Explain that I reallydowork and not just on Oakley. I’ve made some very smart investments in technology and real estate, and those investments have served me well. The yacht was my mother’s, so I’ve kept it for sentimental reasons, despite the cost it is to maintain it and keep it nice. But for every dollar I spend on myself, I match it in charitable giving. Fifty thousand in updates to the yacht means fifty thousand to a Savannah shelter for at-risk youth. A new car means a whole lot of meals for the food bank.
But something keeps me from saying all that to Sadie. Maybe it’s my pride. Maybe it’s because she’s judging me without truly getting to know me. Maybe because I want her to decide to likeme on her own, for the things below the surface rather than what’s sitting right on top.
“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” I say, because changing the subject is a lot easier than thinking about how much I want Sadie to like me forme. “It’s good to see you up and about. With your sharp wit and utter disdain for me firmly back in place.”
“Oh, I didn’t lose my disdain for you even while I was sick.”
She grins, but it falls fast. Her attention turns to the dish in her hand, and she rubs it over and over again, long past the point where it’s dry. I wonder what’s going on behind those blue eyes of hers. And I wish we had the kind of friendship where I could ask, and she’d answer honestly rather than with some kind of sarcastic deflection.
Finally, Sadie breathes out a sigh and puts the plate down. “Thank you for taking care of me, Ben. I appreciate it. Even if I did tell you I hated you a time or two.”
“More like ten or twenty. But who’s counting?” I ask, flashing her my best smile before I lean closer and lower my voice. “It was twenty-three times. Iwascounting.”
Sadie bumps my shoulder with hers. “Should I make it an even twenty-four?”
“I don’t know. You might want to bide your time, ration them out. Not use up all your hatred in one fell swoop.”
“Good point. Especially when I don’t know how long I’ll be stuck here with you.”
Stuck here with you. I try not to let the words sting. They do anyway.
Setting down the towel, Sadie turns, propping a hip against the counter to face me. “For real, though, thank you. Leandra made it sound like—” She hesitates, then shakes her head.
“Like what?”
“Nothing, really. Just … thanks.”
For once, her voice is free from any teasing or sarcasm, so I answer with equal sincerity, even while making a mental note to ask Leandra what she said.
“You’re welcome, Sadie. I was happy to help.” I pause. “My mom used to get migraines.”
She meets my gaze, her big, blue eyes holding mine. All the Markham women have ocean eyes. It’s the first thing you notice when you’re looking at any of them. As I’ve gotten to know them better, I’ve seen the slight differences in color. Eloise’s are light blue—a tropical shade, like the sea lit by the sun. Merritt’s are stormier, pale blue laced with gray. Sadie’s eyes are darker than either of her sisters—almost navy. Only hers arrest me like this, but that could just be because they’rehers.
The moment stretches between us and again, I wonder what’s going on behind those gorgeous navy eyes.
Then she blinks and shifts her gaze to the sink.
“Ben, the water,” Sadie says quickly, taking a step back.
I look down, realizing that the way I’m holding the plate, I’m tipping water out of the sink—and right down the front of my shorts. When Tao sprayed me a few minutes earlier, he made me look like someone dumped a bucket of water on my head. Now I look like I also wet my pants.
Perfect.
