And if that didn’t work? Well, then, she was fully prepared to unload on him, tell him he better get the fuck off this island before she alerted the authorities. Tell him that as far as she was concerned nothing had happened between them in California, and that Bruce would believe her. She hoped it wouldn’t come to that, but she needed to be prepared.
She pushed through the doors, which brought her to a staircase that led up to a reception area, although, as with all the reception areas here, there was no front desk, just the constant presence of a lingering employee. Like the changing room, the reception area was made of light wood, and one wall was covered with succulents while another had a built-in waterfall, a sheet of perpetually falling water.
Scottie was perched on a white chaise longue under a high window that showed the dark woods outside. Abigail didn’t want to talk inside, so she walked straight to the door and out into the cool air.
CHAPTER 14
At the back of the building, a path of stones led to a wooden bench that faced a grove of birch trees. Abigail sat down, and Scottie sat next to her.
“You made a new friend,” he said.
Abigail was confused for a moment, then realized that he was talking about Porter, the man in the pool.
“I did,” she said, already annoyed, and decided that she should probably just skip the treat-him-like-a-nice-guy plan.
“What kind of friend is he?” He unzipped his jacket a little, and she saw that he was wearing a flannel shirt, maybe even the same shirt he’d been wearing in California. Looking at him now, she wondered how she’d ever found him attractive. He was handsome, in that wiry way she liked, but his skin was too orange, as though he went to tanning booths. Also, he was far too intense, the way he sat with his head cocked her way, his hands—he wore three rings—thrumming on his kneecaps like he was waiting to pounce.
“What kind of friend is he?” She repeated his words. “We were having sex in the pool five minutes before you arrived.”
He recoiled slightly, and she decided not to completely abandon her plan to win him over. “I’m kidding,” she said. “I just met him this morning. But we need to talk about us, about you coming here. It’s crazy, you know that, right?”
“I do,” he said. “I know it’s crazy, but I also know that what happened between us was special. It was the best night of my life, Abigail.”
“Before we go any further, I need to know your real name. It’s not fair that you know mine.”
“It’s Scott, or you can keep calling me Scottie if you’d like.” He blinked twice, and Abigail wondered if he was lying.
“But that was just your made-up name for that night. I made it up for you,” she said.
“I know, but you guessed my real name. I suppose it had something to do with me saying that I was going to call you Madeleine. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I think I called you that name because of Vertigo, maybe I was subconsciously channeling Scottie from that film. And you picked up on it. That was when I first knew that we were meant to be together.”
“I think it was a random accident,” Abigail said.
“You don’t really believe that, do you? There are no random accidents.”
“I actually believe that everything is a random accident. I’m sorry. I really do.” He started to interrupt her, but she kept going. “Look, will you do me a favor and hear me out? Let me talk for a while, uninterrupted.”
“Okay.”
“What happened between us in California was a huge mistake. I drank far too much, and it should never have happened. That doesn’t mean that I don’t find you attractive, and that, if I was available, I wouldn’t be interested in pursuing things with you. But I’m not available. I am in love with my husband, and protecting what we have together is the most important thing in my life right now. I am asking you … no, I am begging you, Scottie, to please just drop this. We had a nice night, and that’s all there is to it. We are never going to be together. Not under any circumstances, and definitely not if you do anything to jeopardize my marriage. Is that clear?”
He had begun gently shaking his head about halfway through her speech and he was still doing it.
“It’s clear, but I don’t believe you,” he finally said.
“What part don’t you believe?”
“I don’t believe you’re in love with your husband. If you really were, then you’d never have slept with me three weeks before your wedding.”
“Like I said, I made a mistake, and I have to live with that mistake. It’s very possible that I had some reservations three weeks ago, but after we were together those reservations went away. I’m sorry if it hurts to hear that, but it’s the truth. I’m not a perfect person. I fucked up, and if Bruce finds out about it, if you think you need to tell him about it, I will fight to the end of my life to win his trust back.” She saw what looked like self-doubt sneak into Scottie’s eyes, and she kept going. “We’re just strangers, you and I,” she said. “I’m sorry if you thought otherwise.”
“Do you remember when we were in my room at the vineyard?” he said.
Abigail didn’t immediately say anything, thinking he was going to continue, but he didn’t. “I do,” she finally said, “but I was drunk, Scottie. I really was. That whole night is a blur to me.”
“The whole night?” He smiled expectantly.
“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Abigail said.
“It was good sex. It was the best sex.”
“Like I said, it—”
“And there was that one moment—I know
