Every Little Thing (Hart's Boardwalk 2)

I wished I didn’t care.

“I haven’t any interest in your love life, princess,” Vaughn said kindly. “I better go find the bride and groom.”

Frustrated anger held me in place as he walked away.

Ahhhhh!!! I screamed and raged in my head, so I didn’t slip off my shoe and throw it at his departing head.

That was the second time now that he had reeled me in.

“Fool me twice,” I muttered.

On that thought, I walked out of the ballroom, knowing Jessica would forgive me for my defection from the final preparations.

Marching down the boardwalk to my inn I really thought that Vaughn was the last person on earth I wanted to see at that moment. Hence my running away.

However, when I swung open one of the beautiful stained glass double doors to the inn, walked into the entrance, and saw a very thin young woman with fake boobs arguing with Aydan, I realized I was wrong.

There was one other person on earth I didn’t want to see at that moment. A person I really didn’t want to deal with because this person always invi

ted chaos.

My little sister.

If it weren’t for the fact that underneath her cosmetic surgery we were very alike physically, I would have doubted the relation.

For as long as I could remember Vanessa had been a selfish, spoiled little brat. She wasn’t raised that way, either. It was just innate. Part of her nature. But she hadn’t been all bad. In fact she’d been a soft-hearted kid who was forever finding wounded animals to bring home to nurse, much to my mother’s annoyance. When Vanessa’s impulsive actions hurt someone she felt remorse for the unintentional consequences. More often than not I was the one who felt the brunt of her choices, and afterward my little sister would spoil me with hugs and apologies and kisses.

That was our way. When we weren’t fighting, we were cuddling.

To my regret that all changed as we got older. We were very different people. Whereas I loved Hartwell and the inn, Vanessa considered the seaside town and the inn not good enough for her. She’d wanted to see the world. It wasn’t what I wanted but I understood why she did. I think, however, it made her start to feel like an outsider in our family. The distance between us grew greater, and finally, when she developed a crush on an older boy, an older boy I ended up dating, our relationship fell apart. I hadn’t known about her crush, but that didn’t stop Vanessa’s resentment of me multiplying. I’d hoped she’d get over it, that it was just a phase, but I was sad to say our relationship never repaired itself.

Vanessa had eventually used her looks and seductive powers to seduce an older, wealthy tourist years ago and he’d taken her to Los Angeles. He’d bought her fake boobs, designer clothes, and nice jewelry.

In gratitude she ran off with a younger wealthy man. He was only in it for the fun, so she seduced his father. He bought her new lips and flew her to his home in Southern France.

And so on and so on.

She kept my parents updated with her shenanigans and travels but I hadn’t seen or spoken to her in five years.

“Get out of my way,” Vanessa hissed at my manager. She pushed her heavily made-up face into Aydan’s, her boobs almost falling out of the skintight, low-cut, calf-length color-block dress she wore.

Red snakeskin stilettos put her at a few inches taller than Aydan, and I found myself mesmerized by the gaudy crystal buckle on the straps wrapped around her slim ankles.

Beside her, strewn across my beautiful hardwood flooring, were three Louis Vuitton suitcases, and three Louis Vuitton travel bags.

Holy hell.

“Vanessa?”

She whirled around at my voice, her red hair, lightened with blond highlights, sliding across her shoulders poker straight and silky, and in complete contrast to my auburn waves. She now wore a permanent pout. Her nose was still the same, and of course her eyes. It was her eyes that gave away our relation. We had our mother’s eyes. Tip-tilted, light green eyes.

I missed how my baby sister used to look. The difference in her appearance only seemed to emphasize the idea that this Vanessa wasn’t the Vanessa from our childhood.

“Where have you been?” my sister snapped, her perfectly manicured hands flying to her ultra-slim hips.

I frowned, not just at her greeting after our five-year separation, but over the realization that she was much thinner than she used to be. “Have you been eating? You look thin.”

“Oh, you’re sweet.” She preened for a millisecond before snapping, “Now where have you been? I’ve been left here to deal with this little person who won’t let me get settled into a room.”