JESUS. FUCK.
Head pounding.
Body like lead.
Stomach rolling.
Mouth dry.
This is hell.
“Maggie,” I whisper as I reach across the bed, looking for my girl. But when I pat the mattress, I come up empty.
Shit, what time is it?
Hard to tell when I can’t even open my eyes.
If only the sun wasn’t blazing so brightly into my room, it would make it easier to open my eyes.
Grumbling, I roll to my side and attempt to peer one eye open.
One in the afternoon.
“What?” I nearly shout as I lift up—slowly—my stomach rolling with the movement.
Dude, take it fucking slow.
I bring my hand to my head, trying to remember how the hell I got into this position and why I feel so goddamn terrible.
But my brain feels like mush, so foggy and disoriented that I can’t seem to piece two thoughts together.
I don’t even know how I got here last night. Did Maggie bring me back? Did the guys? I glance down at myself and that’s when I notice I’m on top of the blankets, the bed still made, my shoes still on.
What?
I look over at Maggie’s side. Her side’s tucked in, untouched, like no one slept there last night.
Fuck, am I in the right room?
Panic erupts inside of me as I check out her nightstand and don’t see her charger or her vitamins.
My eyes scan the dresser. None of her things are there, then I look toward the bathroom, not one skincare product lined up.
I’m in the wrong fucking room.
Jesus Christ. Don’t let it be someone else’s. Please don’t let there be some strange woman in here with me. Not that I think I’d ever cheat on Maggie, that’s not the kind of man that I am, but how the hell did I even—wait, are those my clothes in the corner?
Confused, I rub my eyes with my palms and lean forward on the bed as I try to get a better look.
Yeah, that’s my suitcase.
Those are my clothes.
I go back to the bathroom where I see my toiletry bag on the counter. That’s mine as well. So, where the hell is Maggie’s stuff, and more importantly, where is Maggie?
What the hell is happening?
Did I sleep through the entire weekend? Through the wedding? Is it the day after the wedding and she had to catch her flight? I can be a heavy sleeper when drunk, but I don’t think that heavy.
Needing some clarification, I pick up my phone to see if I have any messages, but when my screen is blank, I wrack my brain to remember what happened last night.
Think, Brody.
It started with the taste testing. I remember that for damn sure. Reginald pushing to get me to drink more and more…and more.
And that’s where it gets fuzzy.
I don’t recall much after the third shot.
“Fuck,” I mutter as I stand from the bed. Whoa, take it slow, man.
Hands on my hips, I take a few calming breaths and glance around the room for any clues, anything that…
My eyes land on a note on top of the dresser.
Thank fuck. Oh, maybe Haisley asked Maggie to stay with her last night. That would make sense. And she’d need all her makeup and nighttime regime with her.
I calmly walk over to the dresser, not wanting to expel anything from my stomach, and grab one of the complimentary water bottles as well.
When I turn to go back to the bed to sit down and read, that’s when I catch another envelope—but this one is next to the door, as if someone slid it underneath.
Really confused, I grab that one as well and then take a seat on the bed.
I decide to read the one from under the door first. I pop open the envelope and slide out the cardstock note.
McFadden,
Your behavior last night, accompanied by your devious idea to infiltrate my daughter’s wedding for your own personal gain, has greatly disappointed me. Please consider this your formal notice of your dismissal. Human Resources will be expecting you Tuesday at eight in the morning. Don’t be late. Bring all company property with you. And if you don’t recall, your invitation to the wedding has been revoked. Please see the bill for your portion of your stay here.
Hopper
“What?” I whisper as my hand clamps over my forehead. My behavior? What the fuck did I do last night that would cause me to lose my fucking job?
And then it hits me.
Fired.
He fired me.
Holy fuck…he fired me.
Alarmed, I pull out another piece of paper from the envelope. This one’s folded up, and when I smooth it out, an invoice comes into view. My eyes travel down the large numbers until they reach all the way at the bottom, where it’s split in half.
When my eyes land on the total, they nearly fall out.
“Seven thousand nine hundred and eighty-eight dollars?” I shout. “What the fuck!”
I scan the bill again, my heart thumping a mile a minute as I feel my world crash down around me.
I somehow made a fool of myself last night.
Maggie’s not here, and there are no messages on my phone.
I lost my goddamn job.
And now I have a bill of over seven thousand dollars in my hand for a trip that I was told was going to be covered by my now former boss.
“What happened?” I mutter as the bill slides from my fingers and onto the ground.
That’s when I reach for the other note. This one’s clearly from Maggie.
I quickly unfold it and read.
Brody,
You promised you wouldn’t hurt me. You swore it wouldn’t happen but as I write this to you, all I feel is shattered inside. I’m staying with Hardy tonight. Please don’t look for me. Please don’t reach out. Just leave me alone. This was a mistake, you and me. I never should have given in to these feelings. I should have known they would lead to nothing but heartache.
Respect my wishes and leave me be.
Maggie
I stare down at the letter, dumbfounded. She left? She doesn’t want me looking for her? What the hell did I do? How did I fuck this up so badly? I’m so fucking confused…
But then a little nugget of the letter catches my attention. She stayed with Hardy last night?
Where?
In his fucking bed?
I surge to my feet and without thinking, I start toward the door of the bungalow, ready to figure out what the fuck is going on—then I realize they’re probably all getting ready for the wedding right now. And despite the fact that my life is crumbling apart all around me, I at least have the wherewithal to realize charging into Haisley’s wedding and demanding answers is probably not the smartest idea. If I want to save a shred of my dignity from whatever happened last night, then I need to approach this calmly and rationally.
But fuck…she stayed with Hardy last night.
Why him?
Why didn’t she stay here and try to talk to me this morning? What did I do last night that was so bad that she couldn’t even do that?
“You promised you wouldn’t hurt me. You swore it wouldn’t happen but as I write this to you, all I feel is shattered inside. This was a mistake, you and me.”
I push my hand through my hair, wracking my brain for anything…fucking anything, but nothing comes to mind. Not even a snippet of the night that would lose me Maggie and my job in one night.
“Fuck,” I shout as I lean back on the bed. “Please remember something. Anything.”
I grip my head, wanting to slam it into remembering, confusion now turning into frustration.
Knock. Knock.
I look toward the door where the knock came from, and despite the nausea rolling in my stomach and the pounding in my skull, I spring to my feet and I open the door, praying it’s Maggie.
Unfortunately, it’s Jude.
Jude not looking at all ready for his wedding in a pair of swim trunks and a black T-shirt. Does he not remember what’s happening today?
“Oh…hey,” I say. “Uh, aren’t you getting married soon?”
He nods. “I am.”
I straighten up and attempt to push my erratic hair down. “Is there, uh…something I can help with?”
Dude, why are you here?
“No, but I need to talk to you,” he says, solemnly.
“Okay, sure,” I say as I open the door and he walks in.
“Fuck, it stinks in here,” he says and then moves toward the deck where he opens the door and steps outside.
Does it?
I sniff the air, but it all seems normal to me, probably because I’ve been sleeping in my own filth and can’t tell the difference.
Desperate to figure out what’s going on, I join Jude outside. “What’s going on?” I say, no preamble necessary.
Hands stuffed in his pockets, he says, “This is supposed to be the best day of my life…”
Oh fuck, what did I do?
How did I ruin this for him? Either way, I need to make it known that I’m sorry right away.
“Listen, man, whatever I did last night, I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t…fuck, I don’t…”
“You didn’t do anything,” Jude says, looking me in the eyes.
“Uh…what do you mean?” I ask, feeling far more confused than ever now. If I didn’t do anything, then why is my life falling apart all around me?
Jude turns toward the lagoon. “When I met Haisley, I didn’t see anything but her. I fell for her sweet, loving heart. I grew addicted to hearing her voice every day. And I found out very quickly that she was the person I wanted to be around all the goddamn time.” He shifts and glances at me. “That being said, I didn’t know that being a part of her family was going to be so fucking hard.” He shakes his head. “I will never understand the importance someone feels when their wallet is heavier than the average person. To me, we’re all equal, and what divides us as a species is the patience and understanding we carry in our hearts.”
I have no idea where he’s going with this, but I’m listening intently.
“Reginald is my soon-to-be father-in-law, but he doesn’t carry himself in a way that earns my respect. He is conniving, cares more about his bottom line than the people around him, and although he attempts to project himself as a good man, he carries more anger and bitterness in his heart than love and understanding. That was evident last night.”
I tug on the back of my neck. “Jude, I’m sorry, man, but…fuck, I don’t remember anything that happened last night. And I know the last thing you want to do on your wedding is talk about it—”
“That’s why I’m here,” he says, looking at me. “On my conscience, I can’t marry into that family without acknowledging how you were treated last night. It doesn’t settle well, and I refuse to say I do to the woman of my dreams having this heavy weight resting on my chest.”
“Okay,” I say. “Then if you can help a guy out…”
“You were set up,” he says. “I noticed it the second Reginald started forcing you and no one else to finish the drinks. He’s had it out for you from day one. I never said anything to Haisley because she has a… delicate relationship with her father. They had a falling-out when she left the family and they’ve slowly reconciled. I don’t want to be the one that gets in the way of their reconciliation. But the moment I realized you were the one that helped Haisley with her business plan, I saw that you became enemy number one to Reginald. He was gunning for you to fail in everything we did. Before the games out on the beach, I heard him tell the boys to destroy you. They fought him, but, in the end, they didn’t have a choice. He planted staff around the hotel, listening in on your conversations with Maggie, finding out your weaknesses. He heard about you getting sick on the way here on the boat, so used that to his advantage. Made sure the captain gave you those nausea pills to mess with your head. Even the hike, he was playing on your weaknesses every chance he got, goading you, putting you down. Last night was the final straw—and even though he was attempting to make you seem weak and incapable, you came off as earnest, like the good guy you are. But…yes, he set you up last night.”
“How?” I ask.
“He got you drunk and announced that you were here for one reason and one reason only—to get ahead in the company. He forced you to make your proposal for the business, at my bachelor dinner, discredited your idea, and then stole a piece of it to give to your colleague. It was conniving and meticulously planned to make you look bad. It was sickening to watch, and I refused to stand for it, so I left with Bowie. He got you drunk on purpose to humiliate you. And I woke up this morning feeling sick about it. I had to come here, I had to apologize and let you know that you’re welcome in my crowd. You are welcome at my wedding.”
Fuck.
Me.
That’s a lot to process.
“Uh…to be honest, man. I don’t even know where to begin with all of this.” Needing to take a seat, I move over to the bistro set and sit down. I rest my forearms on my legs and lean forward, trying to comprehend everything.
So, Reginald has had it out for me from the very beginning. How am I not super surprised by that? And Jaleesa was right. The moment he knew I helped Haisley leave the family business, I became his prime target. I had an inkling, but it was confirmed. I was failing before I even understood I was failing. Here I thought I was just having some shit luck, when in reality, I was set up to make an ass of myself. I just kept taking the bait like the goddamn idiot I am. And somehow lost the girl of my dreams as well.
Jude joins me at the table but takes a seat backward, his chest to the back of the chair as he straddles the seat. I wouldn’t expect him to sit in the chair any other way.
“For what it’s worth, Hudson and Hardy were trying to stop their dad, but there was only so much they could do.”
“They were?” I ask, my eyes flashing up to Jude as my thoughts go to Hardy and whatever might have happened between him and Maggie.
“Yes. They even found me after they helped you back to your bungalow. They told me that they were really sorry about what happened and how their dad ruined the night before my wedding. They were worried about you, worried about what their dad might do—it was a fucking shitshow.”
I worry my lips as I lean back and quietly say, “Maggie didn’t stay last night. She packed up and left. Said she stayed with Hardy. I have no fucking clue why.”
Jude’s brows pinch together. “She did?”
I nod. “I mean…” I push my hand through my hair. “I don’t know why, man. Just told me to leave her be. Like, did I fucking say something to her last night when I got back here? I have no clue.”
Jude shakes his head. “Nah, man. Hudson and Hardy said you were out cold.”
“Fuck,” I mutter while taking a deep breath. I lean farther back in my chair, trying to figure this all out, but there’s no use, not when this man has to get married today. I don’t want to do anything to disturb that, so I set aside the dumpster fire that is my current life and I say, “You know, nothing you need to worry about. You’re getting married today, you need to focus on that, but I appreciate you coming by. It means a lot. Thanks, man.”
“Are you sure?” he asks. “I can ask Maggie.”
“Please don’t,” I say. “She needs to focus on Haisley and keeping everything peaceful. I know Maggie. She’s putting all her energy into your bride, and that’s what we want to happen right now. Don’t disturb her.”
He nods. “Yeah, I appreciate that.” He stands from his seat, and I do as well. Together we walk into the bedroom, but he pauses and stares at something on the bed. When I look around him to see what he’s looking at, I catch him picking up the bill that Reginald sent me. “What’s this?”
“Nothing,” I say as I reach for it, but he doesn’t let me grab it.
“Did Reginald send you this?”
“Dude, it’s my problem, not yours.”
He turns to face me. “Reginald said he would cover the cost of your stay here, so why is there an invoice addressed to you?”
I sigh heavily. “I got it today, along with a note that said I need to report to Human Resources on Tuesday.”
Jude’s brows pinch together. “He’s firing you?”
I rub my hand over my forehead. “Seems that way, but like I said, nothing you need to worry about.” I snatch the invoice from him. “I hate to admit it, but Reginald was right about me. I came here for one reason, to get on the Hoppers’ good side so that maybe I got a leg up on the proposal. We can all see that crashed and burned right in front of me. My plan didn’t pay off, and now I have to deal with the consequences. My problem, not yours.”
I can see Jude trying to weigh the dilemma in his head. Because yeah, I created drama at his wedding. I created this mess and, even though Reginald fucked with me, if I’m being truly honest with myself, I’m not the victim in this situation. I’m anything but a victim. I had no place trying to advance my career during someone’s wedding week. I had no business being here in the first place.
I grip his shoulder. “Jude, go get married. Have the best day of your life. I’ll be fine. I appreciate you coming over here to check on me. It wasn’t necessary, but I’m not surprised because you’re a good guy.” I move him toward the door. “Good luck with everything. Haisley is amazing and you are truly one lucky guy. Wishing you both the best of luck.”
He nods. “Thanks.” He faces me again and then pulls out a business card from his pocket. “If you need anything, you call me.” He grows very serious as he says, “Even if it’s needing someone to back you up. I have no problem battling my father-in-law.” With that, he takes off and the door shuts behind him.
The balls on that man.
Then again, he wants nothing from Reginald, nothing but his daughter’s hand in marriage. And I know Haisley well enough to understand she doesn’t require her father’s permission to do anything. She proved that when she broke away from the family and started her own venture.
I glance down at the invoice one more time, knowing damn well I’ll be dipping into my savings to pay for this, but I will fucking pay it.
He thinks he has me by the balls, but I’m not going to let him get the pleasure of thinking he’s cut me off at the knees with an invoice.
I move into the bedroom and take in the empty space that was once filled with Maggie’s laughter, her bright smile, her infectious personality. And now that she’s not here, not talking to me, it feels like this room, this island, has lost its magic. It’s lost its luster. And I know that there is nothing left for me to do here. I’m not going to bother the wedding. I’m not going to try to talk to Maggie when she’s trying to succeed in her commitment to Haisley. It would only distract her. She doesn’t need that, and I sure as hell don’t need to pay for another night in this room, so…I’m going to pack up.
Time to leave. I can figure everything else out later.
There is no way I’m going to let Maggie walk away like that. Not without knowing exactly what happened. I’ll be damned if I let her believe I would hurt her a second time.
I promised her I wouldn’t.
And I’ll do anything to make sure she knows that I intend on keeping that promise.
Guess who still had to pay for another night in the bungalow?
This guy.
That’s what happens when you stay past checkout time.
Reginald must have spoken to the staff to let them know that I’m the devil incarnate because they were anything but kind to me at the front desk. Doesn’t matter, wasn’t looking for a handout. I laid down my credit card, told them to charge it, and then I took off, my suitcase dragging behind me as I found my way to the boat that took me to the airport.
Luckily, I was able to change my flight.
Unluckily, I threw up on the boat again.
It’s why I’m currently slouched in a chair at my gate, waiting for my flight, wearing a neck pillow and desperately clutching a bottle of water to my chest. I have a red-eye out of here, and I’m very thrilled to have found some drowsy, knock me out of my misery sleeping pills for when I board. Until then, I’m settling my stomach and trying not to think too much about the implosion that is my life.
One night.
That’s all it took.
Lost my job.
Lost respect.
Lost my girl.
Yup.
Poof.
Gone.
Just like that.
Shocking, if you think about it. How someone can lose everything like that within a few hours. Might be a record.
I uncap my drink and take some small sips of water, my stomach still queasy.
Maggie is probably standing up at the altar right now, filling in as a bridesmaid, looking all kinds of gorgeous in her dress. She probably has a flower in her hair, those lips decked out in a gloss that would have my heart stuttering just from the sight of her mouth.
I should be there.
If anything, to support her, tell her how beautiful she is.
To dance with her.
Fuck…is she going to dance with Hardy? Hudson, maybe? Are they making a move on her, knowing that I fucked up somehow? Men like that always win the girl. They win everything in life.
I drag my hand over my face. I don’t even know what I did, what I said. That’s the worst part. If I was knocked out, then what could I have possibly done that would have pushed Maggie away from me? It’s not making sense. Sure, I messed up my chances with the Hopper family, but I fail to see how that’s connected to Maggie.
Frustrated, I unlock my phone and pull up the text message I sent Jaleesa. I explained everything to her and said I’d be getting canned Tuesday morning. I apologized but haven’t heard anything from her, probably because it’s late there.
Or because she’s so mad at me that she doesn’t want to text me back. After all, this affects her too. Her employee that she was supposed to be managing is getting fired, which I’m sure in Reginald’s eyes means she wasn’t doing her job properly. Man, I fucked this up so bad.
I close out of the texts and just by chance, check my emails—who knows, maybe I’ll still have access to them. It would be a miracle.
I open my inbox on my phone and low and behold, I still have access. Looks like Daddy Reggie isn’t as sly as he thinks he is. I pull down on the screen, refreshing the inbox, and that’s when an email pops up from Deanna.
Fucking great.
Let’s see the gloating.
I pull up the email and read it.
Rough night on the island last night? I don’t know if you could hear cackling this morning, but that was me, all the way in San Francisco. It’s funny how you tried to weasel your way into the good graces of the family and ended up getting fired—oh, I know, it’s not official yet, but rumor around the office is, your Tuesday isn’t looking pretty. Such a shame, you had some potential. Although, I have to thank you for the additional idea for my proposal, I really think it rounds me all out. Pocket weddings, really a novel idea—
Wait…what?
I sit up in my seat, heart pounding as I stare down at my phone.
Why did she say ‘pocket wedding’?
And why is she thanking me for that idea?
That’s…that’s Maggie’s idea.
No, no, no. This can’t be happening. I did not…I did not suggest that idea, did I?
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to remember last night.
The shots.
The pretzel.
Reginald’s constant badgering for me to drink.
Drink more.
And more.
And then…it fucking hits me.
My eyes flash open, my heart sinks to the floor. The proposal. The arguing about Deanna, and then the pocket wedding suggestion.
Holy fucking shit.
I…I sold Maggie’s idea. I gave it to Reginald without even thinking about it. How could I have done that? And she must have found out. That’s why she disappeared, why she’s not talking to me.
I feel the color drain from my cheeks as I cup my forehead in shock.
You utter fucking moron.
Here’s Maggie, working her ass off to make something of her business, to open that storefront she so desperately wants, and I just offered up one of her unique, career-making ideas to her biggest competitor.
Yup, I would tell myself to fuck off too.
“Fuck,” I mutter as I lean back in my chair.
She has to hate me. No wonder she spent the night in Hardy’s bungalow. She probably couldn’t even look at me. I don’t blame her. I can barely stand to be myself in this very moment because I broke her trust. I hurt her like I promised I wouldn’t. And now, as she’s standing there, helping out the Hoppers, in the back of her head, she’s thinking about how they’re about to use her idea, pass it off as their own…because of me.
You are such a fucking idiot.
I shake my head. I need to make this right. I need to fix this.
But how?
I’m not about to charge into the wedding and demand justice for Maggie. That would only embarrass her and make the situation even worse. No, I need to figure out something behind the scenes. I take a shaky sip of water, my hungover mind lurching to life. I need to make this right, even if she never trusts me again, never gives me another chance. I need to protect her and her intellectual property. I need to protect her business and make sure she earns the recognition she deserves.
