“I am not a hypocrite!” she yells. “I don’t even want to be rich.”
“Right, so you’re in law school with the end goal of living the life of a poverty-stricken single mum.”
“Irefuseto apologize for wanting a better life!” She’s back to yelling now. “I’m never going to be some rich idiot with a superyacht. I’m going to create a comfortable life for myself and Izzy, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Spoken like a true rich person—right down to the word comfortable.” My words sound as bitter as they taste, and I hate myself for it.
I suddenly feel like I’m suffocating with the humid heat of the night air and the words I can’t undo. I want nothing more than to be standing in the cool wind of the North Sea back home. Away from this woman who won’t let me pretend. She stares at me defiantly, and I suddenly hate her. She’s my father and my horrible brothers dressed in heels. “You think you’re so much smarter than everyone else, Brianna, but you’re not.I’mthe smart one because I will always have so much more than you without having to kill myself for it.”
“If that’s what you really think, I feel sorry for you.”
“I don’t need to be pitied byyou.”
“Because you’re rich and I’m poor,” she says, running her tongue along her top teeth.
“Because you’re going to miss out on everything good in life while you sit on your pedestal judging everyone you meet. You should see if they’ll make you a magistrate as soon as you pass the bar since you’re obviously so skilled choosing what’s best for everyone else!”
I glare at her, and she glares back, blinking back tears. When she speaks, her voice is filled with a quiet rage. “Fuck you.”
With that, she walks away, leaving me with my bus-stop companions.
One of the cleaning ladies says, “Don’t worry about it, young man. The makeup sex will be fabulous.”
The other three laugh at her joke, but I pretend I didn’t hear her. I watch Brianna pull out onto the highway and disappear around the bend, wishing I could take it all back.
CHAPTER 29
Butterflies of Doom
Bree
“There you go,” I say, handing the packet of tickets to the woman in front of me. “The tour bus will pick your party up at two o’clock tomorrow and take you over to the nature preserve. Hold on to these vouchers. You’ll need to show them at their restaurant to get your included dinner.”
I smile brightly at her, even though inside, I’m a raw, angry, hot mess. She’s asking me something that isn’t registering for several reasons, including but not limited to: A) I had zero minutes of sleep last night after my fight with Leo, B) he’s standing three feet away from me, and it physically hurts to be in close proximity to someone who hates me so much, and C) I don’t give a tiny pebble shit about this woman’s question.
I wait until she’s done yapping, then take a stab at an answer. Nodding, I say, “Yes.”
Clearly, that was the wrong thing to say, because she’s wrinkling up her nose. “Yes? I just asked you what time the last shuttle comes back to the resort.”
“Right. Sorry. I meant nine p.m.”
Raising her eyebrows, she says, “Okay, thanks.”
“Have fun.”
As soon as she walks away, my gut hardens.Pull it together, Brianna. For God’s sake. I don’t want to let on that Leo got to me last night, but if I keep screwing up, he’ll know for sure. We’re almost two hours into our shift, and I’ve managed to give him the cold shoulder the entire time. My goal is to say nothing to him for the rest of the night, then follow that with the silent treatment until he gets the hell out of my garden suite and off my island. Not sure if that’s possible, but once I set my mind to something…
“Excuse me,” Leo says, taking a luggage tag off the desk in front of me. His tone is curt, and when he moves away, he leaves behind the familiar scent of his light cologne that makes my knees go weak. I scold myself for letting him have any affect on me whatsoever, then open my calendar on my computer to check to see what I need to get done this evening.
In red bold letters next to 4 pm, it says, “REMOVE ICE FROM BIANCHI BUTTERFLIES.”
“Bugger,” I mutter.
“I didn’t think you’d resort to name calling,” Leo says.
“What?” Bollocks, now I’ve gone and talked to him.
“You just called me a bugger.”
