“Alright, damn,” I said under my breath, laughing because eight months later, I was still getting used to the fact that my kid sister and best friend were an item.
I was also getting used to the fact that Holland, despite being ten years my junior, was a whole lot wiser a lot of the time.
HOLLAND: I know it sucks because you tell AJ everything but if it helps, I don’t think it was Caspar you saw. He might be annoying but he’s always been loyal.
HOLLAND: And to be totally fair, you’ve hated the guy since day one. Don’t you think there’s a chance your bias might’ve influenced what you saw that day?
I frowned hard as I read the latest text, but as I started typing a rebuttal, I stopped myself.
Because I didn’t actually have a defense.
I did hate Caspar. He constantly wasted AJ’s time and thus mine and I certainly wouldn’t complain if I didn’t have to hear his name again.
But at the same time, I didn’t want this to be AJ’s reality.
And as much as I hated having to defend Caspar—even if it was only in my own head—the fact was that I much preferred to hate the guy than have to kill him, or to see AJ made a fool.
So I went with the only move I had left, which was to assure myself that everything was probably fine.
“Hey, so now that you’ll be in town, you gonna be at the party tomorrow?” Josh asked, referring to the Engelman Foundation Fundraiser, which was held every year at a luxury resort in Palm Beach.
I blinked out of my thoughts but didn’t look at him. “Yeah,” I said, returning to my work.
“Is AJ going?” he asked, making me snort.
“No, she’ll be with her fiancé.”
“Ah, right. Forgot about him,” Josh said distractedly, staring down the hall for another few seconds before adding, “Man, fuck that guy.” To which I smirked.
At least there was one thing we could agree on.
3
AJ
“So, like… how long has it been exactly?” Georgia asked as I sat on the phone with her at the bar of The Hugo, where Adam and I stayed whenever we were in town on business.
It was a gorgeous hotel on the island of Palm Beach, and the very place I’d booked Caspar his own suite—as an “early birthday gift” to make up for “not being able to be there.”
It was the perfect cover.
Since the reservation was under my name, I was able to grab my own key at check-in fifteen minutes ago, which set the plan right in motion. Upon finishing this quick meeting with Adam, I’d do my hair and makeup in his room and then go to let myself into Caspar’s, where I’d be ready and waiting for him once he got home.
The timing was perfect, since according to Instagram, he and his crew were currently shooting at some house in West Palm Beach, and according to his texts, he planned to be back at the hotel by seven-thirty.
I couldn’t help the grin on my lips as I reread some of his cute texts from the morning.
CASPAR: All I want is to be back in that big ass bed. :) Thank you again for the room babe
CASPAR: Best fiancée ever. Miss you like crazy
I looked again at the cute selfie he sent me before taking a sip of my wine and following up on my best friend’s question of exactly how hefty a streak Caspar and I would be breaking tonight.
“Ummm, since actual sex or since sexual contact?”
“What do you mean by sexual contact?”
“Like… hand stuff? While we’re both half-asleep on the couch and mostly focused on Netflix?” I said, my entire face puckering into a shameful wince as I heard Georgia stop dead in the middle of stirring the soup she was making—basically the equivalent of me hearing her horror.