The Scandal (Billionaire's Beach Book 4) - Christie Ridgway Page 0,53
house as if in search of something more than escape.
There, in the kitchen, she saw Charlie and Ethan putting leftovers away. Instead of strolling straight in, Sara found herself hovering. Eavesdropping.
“I can do this myself,” her friend was saying as he handed her a plastic container to shelve in the refrigerator. “Go out and join the others.”
“You’re already doing more than your contract states,” Ethan answered. “With the nanny quitting…”
“I have feelers out. We’ll find a replacement soon. I’m sorry the last one didn’t work out—”
“Don’t apologize again, Charlie. We both know I made the selection.”
She glanced over at the man with a small smile that made Sara’s pulse hammer in that disconcerting fashion again. “She told you she didn’t have a lot of experience but needed the job. I know someone else to whom you gave that same exact chance.”
“Ah, but you had that diploma from the Continental Butler School and, happily, that’s worked out well.” He hesitated. “Right? You’re happy?”
“Of course,” Charlie said, her gaze on the items she was rearranging. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Ethan shrugged. “I… It’s important that you’re honest with me, Charlie. Lately you’ve seemed a bit…stiff.”
At that last word, Charlie’s spine snapped straight. “I don’t know what you mean,” she said, her voice as cool as the milk carton she slid to the right. “Everything is just fine with me and with Wells and I hope with you, too.”
“There it is,” Ethan said, frowning. “You’re—”
“Almost late for the cornhole match!” Sara said, strolling into the kitchen as if she’d just arrived. “I’m here to bring you back to watch the magnificence of Wells and me as we defeat any and all competitors.”
Both Charlie and Ethan turned, Charlie’s face registering gratefulness for the interruption and the man donning an amused smile.
“Put like that, I can’t plead jet lag. I’m just going to have to show you young ’uns that an old guy like me still has a win or two inside him.”
They all three trooped back to the beach. The setting sun painted the sky in a poppy orange and yellow, and the ocean looked like an animated painting as a sailboat crossed its surface. Seabirds dared the waves and more swooped above with their hoarse cries, and Sara looked from the scene to the players gathered on the sand. Charlie stood far from Ethan.
She had not fallen in love with Wells’ dad, Sara decided. The universe had rules, like the direction of the setting sun and the moon’s responsibility for the ocean’s tides. Those same rules precluded Charlie from making a mistake by becoming attached to Ethan Archer.
With that thought firmly planted, Sara outlined the rules of the game for the group, teams were picked, and competition began.
As predicted, in the doubles round, Wells and Sara won the day. The boy crowed in triumph and ran victory laps around the rest, not stopping until he was out of breath. But he wasn’t too tired to lead off in the singles round, with his dad and Joaquin promising retribution. Charlie and Essie hung in to compete as well, while Emmaline and Sara opted for being mere bystanders now, sitting on the cooling sand.
“This has been fun,” the brunette butler said.
“Agreed.”
Emmaline had her gaze trained on the players. “Hot,” she said. “Very hot.”
“Take your sweater off.”
Her friend’s lips twitched, and she glanced over. “I just might have to. But you know I’m referring to the two men out there, right?”
Sara’s own gaze swerved from Emmaline to take them in. First Ethan who looked younger than usual with his hair wind-tossed and his lips curved in a half-smile. Wells was giving him pointers as he hefted a bean bag in one hand.
Near the other platform stood Joaquin, his eyes alight as he laughed at something his sister said. Sara’s heart hiccupped, and she caught her breath as his gaze cut to her. She could feel it, as strong as a physical touch, and she pressed her fist against her stomach as if to still the flutters there.
Then she realized that Emmaline was giving her the side-eye again, so she cleared her throat. “They’re quite handsome, I suppose,” she said, her voice prim.
Emmaline chuckled. “I suppose.” Her elbow nudged Sara’s ribs. “I’m hoping I get so lucky.”
“I didn’t get lucky!” Sara responded quickly. Too quickly. “I mean, it was, um, Charlie who tipped me off about the job. How about you?” she asked, desperate to redirect the conversation. “Any prospects?”
“Maybe,” Emmaline said. “I have an interview tomorrow.”