Being perfect had nothing to do with level-headedness and responsibility. It didn’t mean you had to be uncomplicated and always kind, be smart, but never stealing the spotlight from men.
A perfect woman was simply herself.
Rachel couldn’t be called levelheaded or uncomplicated, and she didn’t feel called upon to be kind all the time — and around Connor, she didn’t have to pretend to be any of those things!
It was strange how quickly a sex-leasing relationship could feel like everyday life. She and Connor had accidentally developed a natural rhythm together. Rachel rose first and brought Connor coffee in bed because, otherwise, the guy was completely useless. Connor went to the bakery first, but waited for her there to give her one last secret kiss behind the shop before taking breakfast to their offices. And every time Connor went to the beach with Winnie and the metal detector to search for wedding rings, some treasure would end up on her bedside table.
Sometimes it was a rusty paper clip. A penny. A button. A broken hammer.
All silly beach finds, but Rachel liked the idea that Connor was thinking about her, maybe even a little too much.
She wouldn’t say they were going on dates, but Connor owed her a round of mini-golf, and the Galette was a fantastic restaurant, and they both had to eat!
There was only one meal Connor didn’t like.
“Why do you have to see Alec again? I mean, why don’t you have breakfast withme?”
“So all of Sunshine Pier discovers we’re sleeping together?”
Because that was exactly what they both wanted to avoid. Maddie and Lucy wouldn’t approve of her close association with their archenemy. And Connor said he’d be in for some dreadful conversations if Cian found out. Besides, the whole thing was indefinite, anyway! Sooner or later, they’d have to stop. So they didn’t tell anyone. And no one knew.
“You know, if you want tosecretlysleep together, Connor should really stop biting your collarbone,” Alec stated casually.
Okay, almost no one knew.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she replied calmly, burying her feet in the sand. She sat on the curb of the boardwalk, enjoying the sun on her face. She had thought she’d miss Chicago, but she’d forgotten how beautiful the California beach was — and all that awaited her in Chicago was court.
She stood, dusted off her sandy feet, and slipped into her sandals. “Hey, are you coming to Cian’s garden party this afternoon?”
“Yep. I’m bringing cake.”
She sighed theatrically. “You know, everyone always says we women love to hear the phraseI love youoryou’re right, but that’s not true. What we really want to hear is,I’m bringing cake."
Alec chuckled softly. “Yeah, I honestly don’t understand why more men don’t bake. I have to leave for a bit after breakfast before I show up at Cian’s barbecue.”
“Where are you going?”
“I have an appointment.”
“For what?”
“Oh, stuff.”
She snorted. “Tell me, what exactly do you do here all day long? Connor says you’re busy – and apparently you are – but he has no idea with what.”
“Oh, I do this and that,” Alec replied vaguely, looking away.
“Hm,” she snorted.
On the way to the Sunny Umbrella, they passed O’Leary & Stone, and Rachel couldn’t help but glance inside. It was Sunday, but she knew Connor had a few things he wanted to do and…
She stopped abruptly. “What the hell?”
“What?” Alec asked, but she didn’t answer. She was already walking toward the office where three people were clearly visible through the glass panes: Izzie, sitting on the desk in the entryway with a bag of popcorn in her lap, Connor, leaning with one arm against the wall at head height, and the strange man he was apparently pinning against it.
With a clang, she pushed the door open and gasped.
Connor didn’t even look up. He was too busy standing there with his fist drawn back, forcibly pinning the red-faced middle-aged man to the wall as he tried to break free. But Izzie looked up.
