8. Millie

EIGHT

MILLIE

Do not cry. Do not cry . Despite the instructions, the tears are dangerously close to dropping.I’ve officially lost all hope of one day running the company with my dad.

Daniel has hockey, Paul—well, Paul doesn’t seem to care about anything but spending money. Earning it has never interested him. Dad and I share a love for music and everything that entails.

That was my one escape.

Now though…now he shares that with Lake.

“Hey.” The woman’s voice, so close behind me, startles me enough to make me jump.

I’m in the bathroom hiding out after my father just gifted his business to Lake.

I thought I was alone. The last thing I want is a witness to my pity party.

Inhaling a fortifying breath, I choke back the tears and turn. The woman looks familiar, but I can’t place her.

I offer her a tight smile. “Hi.”

“Beautiful wedding. You’re Millie, right? Ford’s daughter?”

I nod, throat tight. “That’s me.”

She holds out her manicured hand. “I’m Cat. Your dad is one of my husband’s best friends.”

“Nice to meet you, Cat.”

She gives me a genuine smile, and for a moment, the devastation that’s taken over recedes, because damn, is this woman drop-dead gorgeous. Dark hair, whiskey eyes, and a big smile. The name doesn’t ring a bell, but still, I know her from somewhere. “I’m sorry. I know everyone here today is someone, so I’m going to go out on a limb and guess you’re in the music industry.”

Her responding laugh is throaty and rich. “No. I own Jolie Magazine. My husband and I do. And I run Bouvier media. We’re in the process of producing our first show. It will follow Sienna Langfield’s spring collection in Paris.”

“Oh my god, yes .” For the first time today, a sense of true joy hits me. “I’ve been following that. So you flew in from Paris?”

Genuinely interested in the show and its production, I push away the despair eating at me. I can wallow over the loss of my father’s company later.

“Yes, it’s been a nice break. Jay and I never really get time alone. We have a daughter who keeps us busy, and with the new show, we’ve been going nonstop for months. So it’s been nice to disconnect and focus on one another. And this resort is so gorgeous.”

Cat leans against the sink and surveys me with genuine interest, as if chatting with me in here is about more than just being polite.

“So what do you do, Millie?”

I clasp my hands and lower my chin as a little of that defeat creeps back in. “I was in my last semester of college, but I—” I clear my throat. “I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life, so I’m taking a break while I figure it out.”

With an approving hum, Cat nods. “I get that. College is a funny thing. You’re supposed to know exactly what you want to do by the time you’re twenty-two. And if you’re not sure, then you’re forced to waste hundreds of thousands of dollars trying to figure it out.”

I laugh. “Yeah, something like that.”

Her eyes brighten as she straightens. “We’re in need of a production intern. Would you be interested while you’re figuring things out? Sienna is amazing, don’t get me wrong, but she kind of goes through interns like they’re snacks.”

The offer comes out of nowhere and hits me square in the chest, making it impossible to respond. For a moment, all I can do is blink at this stranger who just offered me a job in Europe.

“She wouldn’t have the authority to fire you,” Cat says with a devilish grin. “Oh my god, this is brilliant. Since your father and her brothers are so close, she absolutely wouldn’t fire you. And that would mean we could make it through filming without getting further behind schedule. And without all the fires to put out, I could finally go back to working regular hours and having sex with my husband again.” She slaps a hand over her mouth, eyes dancing. When she pulls her hand away, she gives me a sheepish grin. “Sorry, you should probably forget I said that.”

I laugh and shake my head. “It’s fine.”

“Please tell me you might be even a little interested. The money is great, and the job comes with amazing perks, like a whole new wardrobe designed by Sienna. Everyone on set is required to wear Langfield designs, not that free designer clothing is a hardship.”

Is this woman seriously trying to sell a position working on the set of the most anticipated show to me ?

“And,” she adds in an excited whisper, “it’s Paris in the spring. Can you think of anything better?”

Honestly? No. Not a damn thing. And after my father’s announcement, it might be the perfect distraction. “Do you have a card or something? Can I think about it?”

Cat reaches into her purse and pulls out her phone. “Here, input your number, and I’ll text you so you have mine. Call me with any questions. Seriously, housing and transportation are all covered. You’d be saving me if you said yes.”

A little of the ice that has formed around my heart these last few months melts away as I type in my information. As she slips her phone back into her purse, I wring my hands and take in a full breath for the first time tonight. “Thanks, Cat. I will definitely be in touch.”

“I’ll see you out there.” With a wink, she’s gone, leaving me alone to study my reflection and contemplate my life.

Accepting the job offer would be insane. Right? I’ve never even considered fashion as a career option. Then again, working in production isn’t exclusive to fashion. It would certainly be interesting. And it would give me space from my mother and her constant commentary, as well as time to work through this issue I have with my father.

School is a nonissue. Dropping out might have been another knee-jerk reaction, but I can’t imagine going back to the whispers and stares.

A few months away might be exactly what I need.

I leave the bathroom, stomach still in knots, scanning the reception space for my brother. The makeshift wooden dance floor on the beach is surrounded by string lights. And the burnt oranges and pinks of the sky as the sun hangs low above the turquoise ocean paints the most gorgeous backdrop. The tables set up in the sand are covered in sparkling gold fabric and surrounded by white and gold chairs. The bamboo bar is a popular spot tonight. It’s crowded with wedding guests who are all laughing and smiling and enjoying the soft reggae music the live band is playing.

If it were anyone else’s wedding, I’d be enamored.

I’m not blind. I can see that Lake makes my father happy.

That’s all that should matter to me, but when I look at them swaying on the dance floor, it’s like an anvil has been dropped onto my chest.

I finally spot Daniel, who’s sporting a flirty smile while he talks to Melina. Dammit. I don’t have a shot in hell at getting his attention right now. My brother is a man-whore, and while I now understand the appeal of sex, I’m still annoyed by him.

I head toward the bar but am stopped by a hand on my hip. A shiver works its way through me as Gavin leans in and presses himself so close I can feel his breath against my ear. “Dance with me?”

I turn and gape at him. “Uh—don’t you think my father would kill you?”

The smirk he gives me is far too smug. “He asked me to. Apparently, he’s nervous that one of my brothers will ask you, and he doesn’t think you could possibly be attracted to me.”

The laugh that bubbles out of me feels so damn good, but it’s cut off quickly and replaced by a moan when his fingers tighten on my hips.

He inhales a deep breath, the sound so desperate my body ignites. “Please, Peaches,” he murmurs.

Fuck me.

Ignoring every warning bell going off in my brain, I allow him to lead me to the dance floor. I also ignore the way my father smiles at me and nods at Gavin.

Is he doing this only because my father asked? Is he still mad at me? I don’t blame him if he is, but I can’t stop my brain from working overtime, and I can’t shake the disappointment that swamps me at the idea that he’s only doing it for my father.

It hits me then, that this is probably exactly how Gavin feels, thinking I only slept with him to get back at my father.

“I’m sorry.” I pull back and frown.

Gavin holds me tight and continues to sway. “Hmm?”

“I’m sorry that I made you think I used you. I swear I didn’t.”

With his lips pressed together in a firm line, he nods. “What exactly was your plan, then?”

“I don’t know. I just—I’ve been so angry for the last few months. I wanted to feel something other than anger. I don’t want to be upset with my father. God, he’s been my idol my entire life. He’s always been my best friend, and now—” My voice cracks as I try to explain the unexplainable.

With the hand he has splayed on my lower back, he pulls me closer. There’s barely an inch between us now. It’s not right. I know how it looks, and yet I can’t find it in me to create any distance. I crave his closeness. Crave him.

“I know it’s wrong.” I swallow back the emotion still thick in my throat. “I know I’m an asshole for doing what I did, and I’m sorry for putting you in this position. I swear I won’t tell him what happened.”

Gavin nods, his expression unreadable. “You mentioned the other night that if you could do anything, you’d write music.” His eyes are so damn intense as he watches me. “Does your father know that?”

I look away, wishing he couldn’t read me so well. It seems impossible. We barely know each other, yet he gets me already. I’m not sure anyone in my life has even tried to understand what I’m going through, and Gavin just zeroes in on the issue. No bullshit, no judgment, just understanding.

“No,” I admit.

“Don’t you think that if he knew, he’d have encouraged that?”

“I was going to tell him over Christmas break. We had plans—” I sigh. “We had plans to go to the Bolts game and dinner.”

“Ah.” Gavin nods. “And then he announced to the world that he was with Lake and brought her to the game instead.”

“Yup. Maybe it’s childish to be upset, but I was always his girl. Music was our thing. Daniel had hockey. Paul’s obsessed with himself just like my mother, and Dad and I had music.”

“It’s not one or the other, you know,” Gavin says softly, his gaze searching mine. “He hasn’t replaced you by marrying Lake.”

“Hasn’t he, though? Now that he has her, it feels like there’s no room for me.” God, I’m whiny, but Gavin’s gentleness, his demeanor, makes me think that I’m safe sharing these feelings with him.

“I think if you tell your father how you feel, if you open up about your dreams, you’d be surprised by how much he’d want them right along with you.”

Focusing on the top button of his shirt to avoid his eye, I shrug. “Maybe.”

“But you’re not going to talk to him, are you?”

“Not tonight. We’ll talk…eventually,” I hedge.

Gavin pulls me close. “Then let’s just dance for a bit, Peaches. No more tears, though, please.”

How the hell does he know I was crying?

“Why?” I sigh, resting my cheek against his chest.

He brushes his thumb softly against my back, soothing me. “Because I can’t stand to see you sad. Makes me want to make you smile, and I can’t do the type of things I know would do that.”

My thighs clench again. “Yeah, I know.”

When the song comes to an end, I thank him for the dance and head to the bar. I need fresh air, distance, and a little tequila. Maybe then I can forget about all the ways that man could make me smile.