“Why are you going to the luncheon instead of Dad’s speech?” Scarlett asked after a moment. Her stepmother had always supported her dad in public despite her ties to his opposition.
Laylani sighed theatrically. “I’ve spent quite enough Remembrance Days with your father—I feel I’ve earned a pass on this one. Beaufort, be ready at eleven. The dress code is smart casual.” Without another word, she walked out of the room.
Scarlett’s gaze met Beni’s. With Laylani gone, the energy in the room had brightened. As if he also sensed the shift, Martin whistled a happy tune in the kitchen down the hall.
“I wish we could go to the beach,” grumbled Beni.
“Let’s go tomorrow.”
“Sounds good.” Her brother took a bite of a syrup-drenchedpancake.
Scarlett smirked at his enthusiasm as she mopped up her creamy egg yolk with the rest of her toast.
When Beni was born, barely a year after her mother’s death, Scarlett—then age ten—wasn’t happy. After losing her mother, she didn’t want to share her father with a stepmother, let alone a baby. From day one of her dad’s second marriage, she’d been as rude to Laylani as a child her age could be. With Beni just a newborn lump in a cot, Scarlett was fully prepared to write him off as a nonentity. But sometime around his first birthday, the smiley little boy had begun to tail her around the house, shrieking, “Sca!” with glee. Before she knew it, he’d completely won her over. She’d taken the plump, sweet-faced toddler under her wing, deciding once and for all that her troubles weren’t his fault. They’d been allies ever since.
“You know the year abroad I’ve been thinking about?” she asked him.
Beni nodded. “Yeah. Are you doing it?”
“Yes, and I’m telling Dad today.” Her shoulders tensed as she waited for his reaction.
His eyebrows shot up. “Amazing. I think that’s great. Get out of here for a bit while you still can. Before you have to be a workaholic like Dad.”
She relaxed. He seemed genuinely happy for her. “You’ll be okay here, right? While I’m gone.”
He scoffed. “I’ll be fine. I’ll just stay in my room when she’s home and spend the night at Blake’s house on the weekends.” Blake was Beni’s best friend from school. “I’m excited for you.”
She smiled. “Thanks, kid.”
After breakfast, Scarlett approached her father’s study wondering if she should talk to him about what she’d interrupted between Laylani and Beni, but she paused with her hand on the doorknob when she heard him rehearsing. Todaywas particularly important. Her father was on the verge of the biggest civic moment of his career. After about a hundred iterations of the proposal to get it into a passable state, his legislation to open the economic borders of Soleil was expected to pass by a razor-thin margin next week. Not wanting to interrupt his final run-throughs, she listened through the door.
Lord Jules Heroux’s baritone voice was crisp, each word perfectly enunciated. “The impact of the border legislation goes beyond the massive boost our economy will receive by allowing the import and export of goods. Presently, only those with a visa for work or school are allowed into Soleil. Only one thousand visas are issued each year. Think about that for just a moment. And now consider the impact widespread tourism will have on Soleil’s small businesses.”
Scarlett’s heart burst with pride. Many in the country were afraid of the outside world, but her father was brave enough to push the country beyond its comfort zone. She believed a lot of that was because of her mother, Sabina, who was from Clair de Lune, same as Brayden. Sabina had died thirteen years ago, at the age of thirty-six.
Aside from the clear economic benefits the legislation would bring about, if Parliament dropped the damn border, Brayden could finally visit her. She already knew a six-week stint in Clair de Lune wouldn’t be enough time with him, and thus, Scarlett had a personal vested interest in her father’s success—one she’d never vocalized publicly. Or privately. Even Brayden didn’t know. A superstitious part of her worried speaking it aloud would make it not come true.
Her dad finished his run-through and began the speech again, so Scarlett went up to her room to get ready, leaving him to rehearse in peace.
When it was nearly time to go, she threw an opaque scarf over the mirror and changed into an off-white tweed skirt and blazer,tying a black bow at her neck. She pinned a tiny Soleil flag to the breast of her blazer and let her hair fall loose down her back. Laylani would approve of everything but the hair, which was why Scarlett left it loose.
She looked down at herself and liked the way her skin, tanned from surfing, contrasted with the off-white fabric.Will he like this outfit? He never sees me dressed up.She sighed.The more things change, the more they stay the same.
Not even twenty-four-hours single and she’d unwittingly gone back to her old teenage habit of wondering if Brayden would like the way she was dressed. That old misery of pining for a boy she could never have wasn’t something she wanted to revisit. It was one of the reasons she had to convince her dad to let her go abroad. She needed to move forward—to see him—sooner than the border legislation would allow.
Scarlett was still putting her pearl drop earrings in as she descended the final few steps to find her father in the foyer, his phone to his ear. He waved at her and gestured to the front door.
They were seated in the cabin of the speedboat, heading toward Parliament, when her father wrapped up his call. Forcing herself to relax her clenched jaw, Scarlett straightened, gathering the words to tell her father her plans.
“That was Elestine,” he said to Scarlett.
She sighed. Alastair’s mother, Elestine Spencer. Why couldn’t she have five minutes with her father without having to discuss Alastair?
Her father continued. “Alastair is devastated and refuses to leave the house. Why didn’t you tell me you were thinking of breaking things off with him?”
His exasperated tone irked her almost as much as his guilt trip. She shouldn’t be expected to check in with her father before making decisions in her own relationship. The idea was ridiculous.
“I didn’t know I was going to do it until it happened.”
