“What are you saying?” Liam asks. “That she helped you to spite you because she hated you all along?”
“Okay, fine, when you say it like that it sounds wrong, but I heard her myself, Liam!”
“You think she used you for your money, then?”
“Yes,” I shout. “That. It’s obviously that.” It’s always that.
Liam’s lips become a straight line. He definitely doesn’t agree. He stands up and walks across the cabana and kneels down in the sand. It takes me a moment to figure out what he’s doing, but then I see him stand back up with the engagement ring in his hand.
“Shit, Chase. I hate to be the one to poke holes in your theory, here. But as far as I know, no gold digger in the history of the world would ever throw an absolutely flawless, ten-carat diamond ring back at a Covington. Never.”
He squints at it for a moment, holding it up toward the sun. “This thing has to be worth at least a hundred and twenty thousand dollars. Minimum. If Kaylee were a gold digger, she wouldn’t have thrown this back at you. If she were in this for the money, you’d have had to either win a legal action and send in the troops or pry it out of her cold, dead hands. Also, and I say this speaking as a man who has been married three times: You can fake sex, you can fake a great weekend, and you can absolutely fake an engagement. What you cannot fake is a fight. Fake couples don’t fight. They work together for a common goal. They care about each other. Which is what I thought you two were doing. Until it became something else entirely. And lastly, look at your face.”
He turns to Ashley. “Did you see his face when he got the text? A thousand bucks says he thought it was from her. When he found out it was a resignation text from Mark, did you see how sad he looked? Look at him, Ashley, does he look like he won?”
Liam finishes up his speech. I don’t argue. I know that it’s all true. I just wish I didn’t feel this way. I don’t even want the company anymore. I only want Kaylee, but she made her thoughts pretty clear on the matter. I never expected it to end like this.
“You’re right,” Ashley says, staring at me. “That’s new.”
“Fine,” Liam says, reading the mood, a first for him. “How about I buy you a drink?”
That I can go for. I think that right now I could drink an entire bar full of alcohol. I nod at him. Then I panic for a second and look at my watch. “If we hang around here, we’ll miss our private charter.”
Liam “Ah, we’ll catch another one tomorrow. Let’s get you drunk.”
Then the three of us head inside to the resort bar.
Chapter Fifty-Four
Kaylee
I turn on my heel and walk away from the carnage. In my mind, it feels like an action movie where the star, that’s me, throws the hand grenade and then walks off into the sunset.
As I make my way across the beach to where the waves are breaking and the sand is firmer and easier to walk on, I feel like a weight has been lifted off me.
What now? I have no idea. All I know is that I’m free. I got my dramatic breakup and storm-off. I threw back the ring.
Okay, I feel better except I don’t. Once the adrenaline wears off, I’m just sad. I don’t know how I deluded myself into thinking that he actually had feelings for me. I know that despite my best efforts I have real feelings for him. Even if it was all make believe on his part.
I decide that the concept of a love life intervention is sound in principal, but I don’t ever want another one. This one started off fine and ended in disaster. Maybe I would have been better off with the Paolo.
And now my only plan is to walk the beach. I don’t know how far or to where, all I know is I need time with my thoughts. Lots of it.
I pass the Beaky Tiki, glancing over and seeing the paparazzi high fiving each other and looking down at their phones and ordering lots of food and drinks. It’s a fun looking, rowdy crowd. And it’s not for me. At least not now.
Chase got what he wanted, and the paparazzi took their trophies too. It looks like I’m the biggest loser in this situation. So I do the only thing I can. I keep walking.
Chapter Fifty-Five
Kaylee
I walk the beach for what feels like hours. In reality, though, it’s only been forty-five minutes. Still no closer to clarity, all I am now is tired, hungry, and thirsty.
Hoping that the paparazzi will leave me alone since they got what they wanted, and needing the familiar comfort of the Beaky Tiki and my friends now more than ever, I text them an SOS message, begging them to come back and meet me again.
I fill them in on the new developments of the breakup, ring toss, and storm-off. If Fi and Angie were lamenting my lack of drama before the whole Chase Covington saga, they are getting more than they bargained for lately.
By the time I get back to the Tiki on my walkabout, they are sitting there at our usual table. In a pleasant change of pace, the whole bar and grill is nearly empty. Could it be? My heart leaps for joy as I realize they’re gone. The paparazzi must have bugged out after they got what they wanted.
Right this moment, they must be on their planes and back to wherever the hell they came from and out of my hair. I breathe a sigh of relief. Then I remember that Chase is probably gone too.
Ugh, and now I’m all mopey again. So much for my small victory.
I get to the table breathless and
