One thing I was actually excited about was the new elite private school I would attend. A closet secret admirer of Gossip Girl, it wasn’t the fashion that made me jealous of Blair and Serena, it was the education.
I loved my teachers and the passion with which they taught. It made me seriously interested in studying literature, and attending an Ivy League actually seemed like a reality and not some far-off dream.
The house was so grand and my classes so different, I hardly saw Bradley, especially since he was a junior and I a freshman. He was always getting into trouble and had to make up for his behavior with a lot of community service. Such wealth and class seemed to age him. At only seventeen, he lived more like a man in his twenties.
And the incident happened.
I shuddered thinking about it and shook my head again at the familiar memories. I made my way down the grand hall and past his bedroom. I peeked into the room. He still was an interesting person.
Horrid memory, trauma or no trauma, such strikingly good looks and body stopped me in my tracks. It was the cover of People magazine framed with Bradley on the cover as voted “most beautiful.”
I rolled my eyes. I'm sure that did wonders to his ego. I leaned in to see the date. Since I was overseas, I got to dodge the celebrity gossip magazines in the supermarket. I really had been living under a rock.
His eyes were exotic green and alluring, whispering to its admirers to take another look, to peer further. The angular nose set off his perfectly high cheek bones.
In his “30 Under 30” shoot for Forbes, his tailored suit and serious demeanor was a contrast to his shirtless photo.
Butterflies danced in my stomach, mixed apprehension, and nerves of facing him after all these years. The distance made us feel like complete strangers. Heck, we were all strangers. Guilt made its first appearance of the day waving its hand my way. I know…I know…it’s my fault for staying away from everyone….
"Watcha looking at there?" I jumped in fright and spun around. I didn't know Claire had already arrived.
Now, she loved appearing on the reality show. It showcased her super successful line and boutique in the city.
"Oh, do come here, you. Hug your sister. I still hate you for that gorgeous natural ass of yours. You know it's a shame you don't do your own shoots like these. You really could have made a killing as a model."
Her familiar French perfume knocked my senses. More guilt panged my stomach for the absentee sister I had been. Running away.
"I'm so sorry, Claire. How are you handling everything?"
She pulled away. Her eyes were puffy and swollen. "He just collapsed. Like that. No warning. No heads up. There were so many things I wanted to tell him. So many things I wanted to do to make him proud of me again."
“Oh he was proud of you. Your boutique and line are doing amazing."
"It better. I'm freaking thirty-two. At thirty-two you have your shit together. I was never like golden boy here."
She folded her arms and sighed as she stared at the wall. I wanted to console her. She did live life awhile without a mother, at the time when a daughter needed one the most. She was closer to my own mother than I was.
"It's horrid, everything Bradley has to think about today. The day his own father dies, he has to step in and take executive role and make decisions he’d rather not make."
My heart did something funny. Something stirred in me.
“Have you spoken to your mother? You know she's filming right now in Tahiti. They were seeking some sunshine. I feel awful for her. You know she really did love my father.”
More guilt paid my heart and my stomach. I never knew I would feel such feelings. I really had become a reclusive hermit, shutting off my heart because I didn't want the world to know me. All because I didn't want my life on display. I locked myself away and lived my life like a nun. Maybe it was time to change all that.
“Yeah. I mean, I’m in the middle of this really important paper and she texted me but I didn’t know it was urgent like this until I actually read the text. As soon as I did, I called her right away, but her voicemail went straight through.”
She gently placed her hand on my shoulder, a sisterly touch I missed.
“Yeah it's not easy flying from Tahiti reception wise. She should be arriving in the next twelve hours. It's okay, you know.” Her words rang to my heart and her firmer grasp caused me to jump.
“Barely seen him. It's natural to be nervous.”
“I'm fine. I'm fine.” The defenses went up.
“All I care about is you guys…Kate?”
“Yeah?”
“If there's one thing my father's death, his sudden passing, has taught me, don't let time go by. Don't make the mistake thinking time will always be there on your side.”
Chapter 4
BRADLEY
* * *
A storm was coming. One of those dangerous nor ‘easters that shuts down the city and leaves millions without power. At least a foot of snow with blizzard strength was expected in the city and citizens were warned ahead of time by the mayor to prepare their homes and families in advance, to not let freezing to death become an option, because it could be an option if one wasn’t prepared. From boarding their homes, to evacuating if need be, there was a lot to do. Evacuating was a possibility and we would all know within the next twenty-four hours from the emergency advisory out in the Hamptons.
But we Rainshaws would not have to evacuate due to our spectacular generator. The property was as dependable as a hospital during a natural disaster. My father made sure of it. If there was one thing he hated, it was chaos. I was always convinced he had prepared for the apocalypse. That or if he ever had to go into hiding from shady deals, he?
??d be able to survive if his enemies went as far as to barricade him in. Well, now I’d never know. Hell, I did know. Who was I kidding? The enemy did get him in the long run; he was robbed of his life, an early death. It was a heart attack, and it was stress-induced. Fucking horrible.
Such preparation on his end, however, made our family fine but the roads would not be safe to travel for all of our guests, thus we had to combine all services and funeral activities into one day. One day filled with strange hugs, stiff handshakes, stories from people I’d never see again about my father this time on the yacht, or that other time in the board room. Ah, he wasn’t the great bull shark all the time. There were moments I loved. I’d miss. The lump in my throat caught and I thought of her to appease the weight. Such emotion turned into fucking butterflies.
My overactive futuristic mind already thought about it after this full day: we’d be snowbound. We. As in she and me. In the same house. Snowbound. But I couldn’t think that far. No.
I had to get my head out of that fact and back on the present.
So we made it all a full day, then—a viewing at 9 AM, funeral at 1, and then an immediate wake at our home. I had to deal with so many schmucks who didn’t give a damn about my family, who only cared about the money my father provided.
It was an early day, one that required my best foot forward and my most stellar poker face to date while I received them all, as I stood feeling every emotion imaginable.