Throwing my towel around my neck, I continue my walk to the bathroom with a booming laugh. “Never.”
Gabriella
The afternoon sun bounces off the patio as I sit on the old wicker chair, staring into the serene blue sky. With my steaming hot coffee in hand and a new book recommended by the Oprah Winfrey Book Club, I inhale the salty sea air, releasing a breath as my shoulders relax into the padded cushions.
I could get used to this.
A house by the beach, bars and restaurants within walking distance, and more importantly—freedom.
“Hey, Gabriella!”
My neighbor, Aubrey, is standing in her front yard with her goat, Pixy. At first, the concept of owning a pet goat by the beach seems bizarre, but the more time I spend with Pixy, the more I fall in love with him. Sure, he has his quirks like a genetic disorder causing him to faint when he gets nervous. I recall the first time I witnessed it. The panic caused me to almost dial 911 until I realized it’s the emergency number for humans, and not ten seconds later, he stood up as if nothing happened.
The cute little shaggy thing follows Aubrey as she moves closer to the white picket fence. Placing my book onto the small wicker table, I quickly join her, taking my coffee with me.
“Hey, Aubrey. Taking Pixy out for his afternoon walk?”
“Nah.” She grins, leaning down to pat him. “I just need a break. CJ finally fell asleep, and Chance is… let’s just say, I’m not entirely happy with him right now.”
“What’s he done now?” I can’t help but snicker, the two of them have their quirks. One minute they’re in a heated argument over something trivial, and the next, they’re practically all over each other like college kids at a frat party. “I’ve got all the time in the world if you need to vent.”
“He just…” Aubrey shakes her head in annoyance until she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “You know what? Never mind. His heart is in the right place. I’m just cranky from lack of sleep and a kid with the energy of a bucking bull.”
“I’m sorry. If you ever need help, I’m here. I can’t say I’ve taken care of kids, being the youngest in my family, but it can’t be that hard.”
Aubrey snorts, covering her mouth instantly. “I don’t think you see the bags under my eyes, my unwashed hair, plus my stained shirt from the juice he spilled on me earlier.”
“Sorry,” I say again, admiring her auburn hair even though it does look slightly unkempt. “Offer still stands, anytime.”
“Thank you. Sometimes it’s nice to know that help is just a neighbor away. We don’t have much family around as you know, besides Adele.” Her face quickly shifts expressions, a ray of excitement shimmering in her blue eyes as she bites down on her lip suppressing her smile. “Enough about me, an update on Prince Charming, please?”
I arrived in Hermosa Beach just over a month ago. I’d read about this place in a book, instantly falling in love with the name Hermosa which means beautiful in Spanish. It’s everything I could have dreamed of from a beach community. A long, beautiful, and clean sandy beach filled with sunbathers, surfers, and every water sport you can think of, beach volleyball being the most popular. I have spent almost every day on the sand, sitting and people watching. Who would have thought volleyball could be such a competitive sport?
The cottage I’m renting for the summer is slightly run-down, yet clean and rustic. It’s painted sky blue with white windowpanes dressed with navy and white drapes. The owners, a couple from Arizona, decorated it in a beach theme. Wicker everything. It’s a far cry from my parents’ mansion back home, but exactly what I need for the summer.
In the time I’ve been here, Aubrey and I have had many chats over the fence, and occasionally, if time permits, we have brunch at the café two blocks over. She knows I moved here as somewhat of a test to be away from my overcontrolling father.
That sounded ridiculously stupid coming from a twenty-five-year-old woman.
But it is the truth, plus more.
Edward Carmichael III, otherwise known as my father, controls everything about our family. This included my engagement to Sebastian King, a modern-day arranged marriage to further enhance his political position.
“Prince Charming,” I repeat, lost in my own thoughts.
Back home, my parents referred to Sebastian as the son they never had. Kind of a slap-in-the-face toward my brothers-in-law, James and Ryan.
Sebastian knew my father felt this way too, played all his cards right, and did everything my father asked of him.
Prince Charming, a cocky nickname he gave himself upon hijacking my phone one day, is his so-called alter ego. We had dated, or as my parents preferred the term ‘courted,’ for the last six months. It’s not serious, at least, I didn’t think it was considering most of the time he was traveling on some political trail.
He comes from a very wealthy family, plays golf like a pro, and has shares in his father’s business. Despite us only dating for a few months, we have known each other since middle school, though never romantically linked.
Sebastian has always been extremely handsome—dark brown hair, borderline black, always perfectly combed to the side, never a hair out of place. He’s not a playboy like his brothers. Sebastian’s more interested in work than women, even though they throw themselves at him, desperate to be the next Mrs. King.
My father took it upon himself to arrange our marriage, and despite my love for Sebastian, finding out that Sebastian’s over-the-top proposal had my father written all over it was enough for me to finally put my foot down.
I placed everything on hiatus, packed my bag, and told everyone I needed time to think.
My father, surprisingly, allowed it.
But it was not without the
