“Let me see you back.” He insisted, kindly. “You’ve been through a lot.”
“So have you,” I countered.
Still, he stayed with me. We both stepped out to more cameras, news crews clustered around the little apartment my sister and I rented, which was really just a converted floor in an old, large three-story house. My neighbors and landlord were all there, plus Hannah and Shelly and even Nora, my environmental protest buddy. And, of course, my family stood there, everyone cheering our arrival, and a few crying, all of us hugging.
Shelly had thought to make sure we had food for everyone upstairs and everyone packed in, crowding around, wanting the whole story.
“How did you survive the plane crash?” Hannah wanted to know, eyes wide. “That’s my biggest fear. Did you ever see that movie Open Water?”
“No, and I’m never going to!” I assured her. I remembered hearing about that movie about a couple of scuba divers who’d been left behind during a dive. Apparently the whole movie was about them trying to survive in open waters only to eventually fail. It had never been at the top of my “to watch” list. Now, I hoped I never heard about it again.
“What was the island like?” My adventurer brother, Wyatt, was back in town, and of course wanted to hear all about the terrain and our survival strategies. Colt settled right into a groove talking with him, sharing tips about starting fires and spearing fish.
“I’m so glad you’re all right,” my mother kept saying, hugging me, patting my hair. I hadn’t had this much maternal affection and emotion from her in years. Maybe ever?
“Thanks, Mom.” I hugged her back and felt grateful for the warm welcome, but honestly also wanted the attention to die down. I’d never been comfortable in the spotlight. Now I had so many mixed emotions vying for space in my head and heart. What I really wanted was some time to myself.
Thankfully, my father started ushering people out, probably feeling the strain himself as well. He’d never been a big fan of crowds, either.
Soon, it was down to just my brother, sister, parents and Colt. One of these things was not like the other. Even dressed down in an oxford shirt and pants, Colt still looked like a million bucks. He’d gotten a haircut back on the main island and somehow even with light stubble he looked perfectly groomed and poised. I felt rumpled and done-in, like a wrung-out rag.
“We appreciate all you’ve done to keep our daughter safe.” My father extended his hand, as formal as I’d ever seen him. Which still wasn’t that formal. His hair hung back in a loose ponytail and he wore a beach bum hemp-woven hoodie with a big front pouch. At least he was wearing clothes. My parents did live in a nudist colony, after all.
“I assume you’re cancelling your plans for ruining our coastline with your mega hotel,” my mother spat out, a protective, angry arm around my shoulders.
“I’ve been fairly busy, what with the plane crash and surviving on the island. So I honestly haven’t given that project too much thought, Mrs. Porter.”
I bristled at his assumption that my mother’s last name was the same as my own. Not because I was offended, personally, but because I knew it was my mother’s pet peeve. The domination of the patriarchy and all that.
“You can call me Ms. Hudson, for your information,” she began, and launched into a harangue about men and their stupid, chauvinistic assumptions about women taking their husband’s names. I rested my forehead in my hands. I’d heard my mother give this speech on more than one occasion, though never before to a man I’d just spent the past 72 hours with having wild, abandoned, passionate sex. Only it wasn’t the past 72 hours, it was like the 72 hours before the past 72 hours and somehow that thought made tears come to my eyes. Our time together was fading into the past, already growing smaller in the rear-view mirror.
“See how you’ve upset her!” my mother exclaimed, wagging her finger at him. “You one-percenters of the world think you can run around doing whatever you want.”
“Mom—” I started.
“Well, I’ve got news for you! Carrie’s not for sale! You can’t buy her!”
OK, now she wasn’t even making any sense, but there was no reining her in once she really got cranking into a political speech. There was nothing she liked more than championing the underdog. Even if in this particular case she had it all wrong.
“I’ll show Colt out,” I suggested, looking up at him with resignation.
“It was good meeting you all.” Colt still worked the room, shaking hands with Wyatt and suggesting the two of them meet up for some fly fishing one day soon. I didn’t see that happening, but Wyatt looked enthusiastic. Zoe gave him a wary handshake, as did my father. But my mother made no move to bid him goodbye. She simply kept a distrustful, squinty-eyed gaze trained on him as if he were going to try to steal the silverware. Not that we had actual silverware.
I walked him downstairs to the front door, but he put his hand on the knob before I opened it.
“Reporters,” he reminded me, and as soon as he said it I could hear a couple of voices right outside the door. People were waiting to catch one or both of us as we came out, wanting to get a picture or an exclusive scoop on our story.
“Right,” I sighed. He and I weren’t even going to get a minute, were we?
“You look so sad,” he observed, tucking a finger under my downcast chin and tilting my gaze up to meet his. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah, sure,” I replied automatically. I felt like my heart was breaking but that made no sense so I didn’t mention it. “I think I’m just exhausted.”
“Of course.” He nodded, searching my face for more. I don’t think he found anything else, though, because he dropped his hand to his side, then raked it through his hair, seeming at a rare loss for words. “Listen, Caroline—”
“It’s fine, Colt.” I jumped in, not wanting to hear what he said next since his tone, his manner, everything about this felt like the intro to a classic rejection. “I’m fine.”
“All right.” He surveyed me again with an inscrutable look in his eyes. “Well, I have to get back to New York. As you might imagine, one or two things need my attention.” He looked slightly rueful as he said it, but who knew what that was about. He could be feeling glum that he hadn’t been able to return, yet, sidelined by me and my crazy family.
“But I’ll call you when I land, let you know I arrive safely.”
“No water landings.” I made a feeble attempt at humor.
“No water landings,” he promised, giving me a kiss that was like the chaste, G-rated cousin of the ones we’d shared together on the island.
He paused, hand on the doorknob. I pictured the men on the other side, readying their cameras. “Yo
u know you’re not getting rid of me this easy, Caroline.”
I gave him a weak smile and raised my hand to wish him goodbye. “Travel safe.”
“Talk to you soon. Take care of yourself.” And he was out the door.
I felt pretty proud of myself that I made it back up the stairs and into my apartment, actually closing the door before I started crying.
“What did he do to you?” Mom rushed at me, suddenly choosing this moment in time to access her inner protective Mama Bear.
“No, I’m fine.” I waved away her concern. “I’m just exhausted.”
“I’ll make dinner tonight,” Zoe offered. “I learned how to make spaghetti!”
“That’s great.” I thanked her, heading toward my bedroom. “I think I’ll lie down for a little while.”
“That’s a good idea,” my father agreed. “Think I will, too.” He stretched out on the couch.
I didn’t even change out of my clothes or get under the blankets. I crashed down, face first on the pillow, asleep before I completed my last thought. Which was a good thing, because my thought ran toward melodrama, somewhere along the lines of “all hope is lost.” That was how you felt, all steep peaks plummeting into deep valleys of emotion, when you realized that you’d fallen in love and said goodbye to the man you loved at exactly the same time.
CHAPTER 17
Colt
New York City. Back on the island of Manhattan, I got right into the swing of things, nonstop meetings, phone calls and events. I was even more in demand than I had been before, now the hero of a bonafide life-threatening adventure in addition to the long list of my other accomplishments. Within days, I had two different studios contact my assistant wanting to discuss movie rights.
Leonard, my COO, had rather giddily taken the reins of Kavanaugh Investors in my absence, calling all kinds of shots while I’d been out of the saddle. I had my hands full just getting briefed on all that had taken place in my absence, never mind setting things right, the way I wanted them. But I did it, juggled all the balls in the air, said all the right things to the right people, made the magic happen.