ChapterOne
My karma wasn’t mean, she just had a quirky sense of humor. She strategically placed jackasses in my path so I wouldn’t grow bored. She messed with my personal and professional life, and every time I thought I was in the clear, she’d surprise me in the most peculiar way.
Today was my second day at a ritzy, all-inclusive Costa Rican resort, and everything was going well when a hotel staffer delivered a package addressed to me. It wasn’t my birthday, and it was two months past Christmas. I ripped it open anyway—blame it on cocktails at lunch. A bulky gold bracelet embellished with elegant swirls around four green stones fell out of the box. No note. It sparkled in the early afternoon light, beguiling me, and of course, I snapped it on.
My Apple Watch vibrated with a message.
William
Hurry. The Mr. Sexiest Legs contest is starting
I grabbed my purse and, like any sensible thirty-three-year-old, I rushed to have drinks with my brother.
The Triton bar was the indoor/outdoor extension of the main restaurant. It had a tropical vibe and offered a full panorama of an infinity pool and an extensive list of hand-crafted cocktails that could quench anyone’s thirst. I found William perched on a stool at the bar with a prime view of the lineup of contestants.
I sidled up next to him. “Thanks for finding great seats.”
“Only the best for you.”
“You and I both know it had nothing to do with me.” I smiled and leaned on the counter to catch the eyes of the busy bartenders.
“I already ordered us—Wowza!” William grasped my right hand and brought it up to examine the bracelet. “When did you go on a shopping spree without me?”
“I didn’t. It was delivered to our room a few minutes ago.”
“Two days at this resort and you already have a secret admirer. Bravo, Adriana.”
A strawberry daiquiri and a margarita on the rocks materialized in front of us. Without a toast—we did plenty of that yesterday—we took a large gulp of our drinks.
“I doubt it,” I said. “But it is weird. Who knows we’re here?”
The contest host’s booming voice reverberated around us, snapping William’s attention to the front of the pool.
For the next two hours, I enjoyed people-watching, my foot swinging to upbeat merengue music, but after the third or maybe fourth cocktail, the truth finally hit me.
“Son of a gun,” I said, with my margarita midway to my lips. “This isn’t a gift. It’s a bribe to let him back in on the deal.”
William, staring at a group of men with abs that should be used in an anatomy class, finished his drink with a loud slurp and turned to me. “Huh?”
“This bracelet.” I thrust my hand at him. “It’s from Jeff. Don’t you get it? He wants back in as my silent investor.”
He glanced at the bracelet, and then his hazel eyes focused back on the washboards. “I like my secret admirer theory better.” He sucked on the straw even though there was nothing left in the glass. “But it could be him.”
“I’d rather live in a cardboard box and eat maggots than partner with him again.” One week plus some blurred days ago, Jeff had left me in total WTF-ery. “I might be jobless and carrying a Texas-size mortgage loan, but my dignity is bigger. I’ll throw this thing away.”
“That’s the spirit.” William clinked his empty drink glass to mine.
I finished my margarita andtriedto concentrate on anything that could hush the Itty-Bitty Shitty Committee chanting in my brain. But my rah-rah attitude ran its course, and my anxiety took over.
“I’m a total failure.” I folded my hands on the polished stone bar and pressed my head into my forearm. The bracelet’s center stone jabbed into my skin.
“You aren’t a failure,” William said. “Think of it as stepping in dog crap while jogging. It sucks. It stinks. But like all big girls, you wash your shoes off—or better yet, buy a new pair—and the next day, you run again.”
I lifted my head, and William grinned at me. I wished I had hislet’s-stay-positivepersonality. Did he inherit it from our father? What did I inherit from him? I’d never know.
“Is Jeff the dog crap?” I asked.
I met Jeff through my work at Salzburg Wine Distributing and pitched him my idea to open a boutique store selling wine, olive oils, and vinegars supplied by women-owned businesses.
