Rage (13 page)

sweetie, they didn’t join us! They were in the next bungalow

having a spat. You’re so perverted.”

“So tell me Stephanie, are you a natural redhead?” Saffron

asked, her eyes traveling the length of Steph’s neckline.

“Sure am.” She glanced at Nathan as if requesting back up.

“I don’t see any freckles…” Saffron said coquettishly and

turned to Phillip who happened to be passing by, “Tell me, Phil-

lip. Does Stephanie’s carpet match her curtains?”

“Not sure. She’s a big fan of waxing.” He volleyed back

without missing a beat. Steph blinked at him in surprise as he

plucked a glass of champagne off a passing tray and kept walk-

ing. Nathan and Saffron laughed, and then Saffron emitted a

pained groan.

“Uh-oh. That fat bridesmaid is hitting on Bret again.” Saf-

fron whispered. Steph saw a curvy Latina chatting Bret up. He

seemed pretty pleased with the situation, which made Steph un-

comfortable.

“Where’s Sarah?” she snapped. Nathan bit his olive off its

skewer, and Saffron sipped her mojito. “Alright. What did I

miss?”

“She ditched him days ago. No one knows why.” Nathan in-

formed her.

“We’d better go save him from himself.” Saffron insisted,

setting down her glass and taking Nathan by the hand. With a

half-assed wave, they vanished into the crowd without another

word.

Making a mental note to call Sarah, Steph left the bar and

found a quiet corner seat at the far end of the building by the

couches. She didn’t want to look conspicuously lonely and was

contended to drink in solitude. A loud squeal of pleasure startled her, and she nearly spilled her beer.

“Stephanie! Oh my God! I’m so happy you came!” Yara’s

high-pitched voice and terrible pronunciation of the English lan-80

RAGE

guage typically made Stephanie laugh, but tonight was just an-

noying. The exotic bombshell’s hazel eyes flew wide. “Oh no!

Did Phillip make you upset? Why are you hiding in the corner?”

“Everything’s fine, Yara.” Steph shot David a “save me”

look. David looked glassy eyed from a day of drinking and

shrugged at her.

“Was the dinner good? Did you eat yet? David, she needs to

eat. Go find someone to bring her a plate.” Yara railed at David, who suppressed a yawn.

“It’s okay. I ate. Calm down. Come sit down and tell me

about the ceremony.” Steph managed levelly, pulling out her

IPad and waving the waiter over for another beer. With a wide-

eyed “you asked for it” look, David wandered away.

“I’m so sorry about blowing up at you earlier. I don’t mean

to pressure you.” Scot held her close as they danced to the soft guitar music.

“It’s all right. I hate fighting with you.” Cheyenne nestled

closer to him. She did
love
making up, though. She rarely fought with Scot. He had a natural talent for diffusing tension, so they rarely got into a shouting match.

“I just want to make you happy, Cheyenne. I feel like we’ve

been growing apart with the deadlines and whatnot. I hate it

when we’re not connecting.”

She nodded and cautiously met his eyes. “Me too. But an-

other baby isn’t the answer. More ‘us time’ is. We need more

family time, too. “

“Not likely with the Asian tour. But I feel better knowing

you’ll both be there.”

“I know.” She sighed, hoping the rest of the band would try

to remember there was a baby on board.

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“Liam’s going to love seeing the dolphins tomorrow.” Scot

laughed.

Cheyenne looked up at him and shook her head. “No. Tod-

dler on a boat with a bunch of drunken adults? Bad idea. You

know how cranky he gets when he’s confined to small spaces.

Not to mention that would be way too much sun for him.”

“You worry way too much, my love.” He kissed her fore-

head.

Cheyenne closed her eyes. “It scares the shit out of me,

Scot. I won’t be able to relax.”

“Fine. We’ll leave him behind. I just think we need some

real family time.”

“You’re not getting any arguments from me.”

“I’ll talk to the front desk. Find out what family friendly

things they have to offer on this rock.” Scot graced her with his sweet grin, and Cheyenne pulled him down to kiss his gorgeous

mouth. He was always so thoughtful, and he still made her melt

on a daily basis.

Stephanie had spent the last hour listening to Yara drone on

about rose petals, bamboo archways, and sand mounds in the

shape of a giant heart. She nodded seriously, and Yara spoke as

if this were the most important event Steph had ever photo-

graphed. She prepared a “must shoot” list for the ceremony on

her IPad feeling bourgeois for the first time in her career.

“No! Oh my God! That is not the right champagne! David!”

She shrieked midsentence and bolted away from Stephanie after

some poor, unsuspecting servers. Steph tossed her IPad into her

purse and quickly changed location. She had just reemerged on

the patio, when Bret Williams, the lead guitarist of Fury, stepped into her path.

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RAGE

“Would you care to samba, Mi’lady?” He bowed dramati-

cally to her. He was clearly buzzing. Steph cackled.

“I don’t know how,” she admitted. Bret grinned.

“Neither do I, but I’m not gonna let that stop me.” He

tossed her bag onto the table and pulled her onto the dance floor.

He yanked a rose from a nearby centerpiece, placing it between

his teeth. Halfway through their butchering of a bastardized tan-go, Yara stomped up and violently pulled the rose from his

mouth.

“This is for decoration only!” She shook her finger at him

and stuffed the rose back into the centerpiece. It sprawled cockeyed from the vase.

“So why isn’t Sarah here with you?” Steph asked once he’d

led her away from the crowd to the far edge of the dance floor.

Bret’s chipper expression vanished, and he slowed involuntarily.

He seemed to forcibly gather himself and continued leading her

in their bastardized dance with a casual shrug.

“I honestly don’t know what to tell you. I don’t know my-

self. I came home from the studio the other day, and she was

gone. She just took the kids and left.” Bret’s lovely Welsh accent normally cheered her up, but his voice cracked in a heartbreaking way as he spoke.

“I’m so sorry, Bret. You two always seemed so happy. I

hope you work it out.” Steph felt surprisingly choked up. She

knew it was lame—showering him with platitudes—but she had

no idea what else to say.

“How do you know when it’s time to walk away from

someone? At a certain point, it’s just pathetic. I put everything into our marriage, and then she just…leaves. No explanation, no

fight—like she doesn’t even think we were worth fighting for.”

Stephanie tried to keep a poker face, but his train of thought

sounded a little too familiar. Though she and Phillip were more

than willing to publicly spar, neither of them had been willing to push up their sleeves and fight long enough to come to any real

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resolution.

“Tee tee!” Liam shouted, and as Bret stepped back from

Steph, the impact of Liam slamming into her legs nearly

knocked her into the pool. Bret snatched Liam back by the arm

as she started to stumble, and Phillip appeared, yanking her back from the edge by the front of her skirt. His other arm came

around her to steady her, and pulled her against him. Her face

was smashed against his chest, and she could hear his heart

hammering and smell the familiar scent of his cologne. The feel

of his body against hers was all too familiar, and she looked up into his silvery eyes. He seemed to search every millimeter of

her face, and the color flared in his cheeks.

“Pip!” Liam complained, and Phillip reluctantly released

Stephanie from his grasp.

“Pip?” Bret laughed, and Phillip flushed an even deeper

shade of red.

“That’s me. Uncle Pip.” He explained. Steph tried to sup-

press a giggle at his Mary Poppins-like nickname, but it was useless. Phillip’s lips curved in a tiny smile.

“Tee Tee!” Liam complained, wrapping himself around one

of her legs. Steph struggled to keep his head from ending up un-

der her skirt.

“He certainly takes after his father,” Bret muttered, and

Phillip huffed out a surprised laugh. Cheyenne raced up with

panicked eyes.

“Where the hell is my nanny?” She growled, picking up

Liam, who reached out for Stephanie with all the theatrics of a

prisoner being dragged to the gallows.

“She’s in the ladies room. She asked me to watch him for a

minute. But he saw ‘Tee tee’, and suddenly I was no longer his

preferred playmate.” Phillip explained, cocking his head toward

Stephanie.

Scot wandered up with a drink in his hand. “What’s going

on?”

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RAGE

Cheyenne blew her bangs out of her eyes with a loud ex-

hale. It had been a very long time since Steph had seen her look so stressed. “Come on, Liam. Let’s put you down for the night.”

“I’ll go with you,” Scot offered. Without looking back at

him, Cheyenne shook her head.

“I got it, Scot.”

Steph saw the hurt expression etched on Scot’s face. He

turned away. As she trailed after Cheyenne, she heard Phillip

behind her.

“Come on blokes, I’ll get the next round.”

Steph regretted her choice of shoes as she clomped after

Cheyenne down the curvy steep path toward the bungalow. The

moon was almost full, and the tropical vegetation surrounding

the path had a haunting quality. As they walked through the door of the bungalow, Steph exclaimed,

“Holy crap!” This place is beautiful!”

“Shhhh.” Cheyenne responded, and Steph realized that dur-

ing the short walk, Liam had crashed in his mother’s arms.

“What is going on with you and Scot?” Steph demanded.

Cheyenne pointed to the balcony and pulled two drinks out

of the fridge, handing one to Steph. Once they were away from

the sleeping boy, Steph sat down expectantly.

Cheyenne ran her hands though her dark hair. “What you

asked about us having another kid kind of set things off.”

Steph slapped her own forehead. “Shit, Cheyenne. I’m such

an asshole!”

“No, it wasn’t just that. We’ve been arguing for weeks. Ev-

er since we…” Cheyenne trained off.

“Since what?” Steph titled her head curiously.

Cheyenne paused. “Since we hired a nanny.”

“Kara seems great. A bit cheerful for my taste, but what do

I know?” Steph leaned forward, trying to read Cheyenne’s fine

features in the moonlight.

“Scot’s been on this kick now that he wants to have a gag-

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gle of kids. You know how much I struggled with the idea of one

baby. We’re so busy with work that we have no choice but to

have a nanny. I don’t want to just pop out kids so another person can raise them. It’s hard enough to find the family time to focus on one child.”

Steph sat frozen in the dark, rolling Cheyenne’s words

around in her head. She couldn’t help but wonder if she would

have had the same issues with Phillip had her pregnancy been

normal. A disturbing idea hit her. Would he have even wanted

kids? Maybe he wouldn’t have.

“And now we have this other person living in our home.”

Cheyenne continued, “So we actually only have one day a week