Freshly fucked. There was no other way to describe Effie. Zander gazed at her beauty, desire rocking his soul, as they climbed in his father’s limousine near the sun-baked runway of the Florida Keys Airport. He’d had his weepy infant moment, sure. But, then, when he’d come out of that funk, he made well and good on his original impulse to seduce Effie. It hadn’t sated his desire, though. Instead, it burned even hotter, like a roaring fire in his soul.
Her evil little plan had worked. The burden of shame had left him, replaced by the overwhelming want for Effie D’Archangel.
“You ever been to the Florida Keys?” he asked Effie, as the limo took off.
She shook her head and scooted next to him in the roomy vehicle. “Never. I’ve only been up and down the West coast.”
“Seriously? You’ve never traveled?” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her as close as he could get her.
Effie smirked. “Now, where would I get the money to travel? The longest journey I ever took was to Anaheim, California, for our high school graduation Disneyland event. It was paid for by all these stupid fundraisers our class did. We rode for hours in this diesel-fumed school bus, packed with students. I hid in the back with Haley, while all the other students acted out, goofed off, yelled, screamed, and acted like idiots. We got very little sleep. When we arrived at Disneyland the next day, Haley and I were like zombies.” She shuddered. “I barely remember any of the rides.”
“Well, we’ll have to fix that, sweetness. I intend to show you the world.” He leaned down and kissed her temple.
Her brow furrowed. “But, what about the…?” she began, then bit back her words.
Contract. Zander finished her sentence in his mind, glowering. “What about it?” he wanted to retort but kept his mouth shut.
That was the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question, wasn’t it?
“Do your parents live in one of these homes?” Effie said, redirecting the conversation, gazing out the window.
Outside stood stately mansion after stately mansion, flanking the Caribbean blue water. Palm trees swayed in the breeze, artfully placed throughout manicured lawns, and gated communities.
“No,” he said. “We’re going to my parent’s private island.”
Effie’s eyes grew wide, gazing up at him. “Your parents own an island?”
Zander grinned. “I bought it for them. My parents almost went bankrupt a few years ago. Dad wasn’t winning as much. He’s older, you know. Racing cars and boats are more of a young man’s game, but he refused to see that until too late. Some of his investments went south. I offered to buy this island for them. At first, they refused. But, I could tell Mom really wanted it, so…” He shrugged. “I can be persuasive when need be.”
Effie laughed. “Yes, Mr. King, you can be.”
“So, I bought it and helped pay some bills. They’ve done so much for me, it seemed like the least I could do. With the financial stress off his back, Dad’s formed a couple of racing teams and is back to his old earning ways.” He grinned.
“That’s really kind of you. My mom and dad are always strapped. And, Mom’s not nearly as supportive of me as it sounds like your parents are of you.” Effie seemed sort of wistful.
Zander eyed her, wondering how much to pry. He started to ask her what lurked behind her statement, but the limo pulled to a stop near the waterfront.
“We’re here, sir,” the limo driver said through the com.
“Okay, get ready,” Zander said.
Effie instantly retreated inside herself, her shoulders hunching, her belly caving.
Zander tugged her close. “Don’t worry. They’re going to love you.”
“We’ll see,” she said.
“I have no doubt,” he said, kissing the top of her head.
A caramel-skinned guy, dressed in a white polo shirt and white shorts, met them at the dock, striding away from a sleek white and blue catamaran.
“Mr. King?”
“Yes, that’s me,” Zander said.
“I’m Jorge. I’ll take you to Mariposa Island.” He extended his hand.
Zander shook it, surprised to not be doing his usual cringe and glower at the gesture. He shook Jorge’s hand.
“Mariposa Island?” Effie said.
“My mother named it,” Zander said, following Jorge along the dock. He helped her onto the catamaran.
Jorge made his way to the captain’s chair and started up the engine. He guided the boat toward the open sea.
After a twenty-five-minute ride across the clear blue water, they arrived.
Zander’s mom, dad, and sister Chloe waved from the shore.
Zander waved back.
Jorge leaped from the vessel and began tying it off on the dock.
Zander turned toward Effie.
“Here we go,” he said, tugging her from the white leather bench seat to her feet.
She let out a huge sigh and nibbled at her lower lip.
“Don’t worry.” He kissed her cheek. “This way.” He took her hand and led her along the side of the boat toward the bow. Then, with the boat securely tied off, he let go of her and hopped off the vessel onto the dock. He extended his hand to Effie.
She took it and jumped off the boat, making a little yelp when the catamaran eased slightly away from her. She clutched Zander’s shoulders to steady herself. Then, she looked up at him.
“I’m pretty nervous,” she whispered.
“I can tell,” he responded. “You’ll love them, I promise.”
He turned, laced his real-live fingers with hers, and trekked along the wooden slats toward the shore.
Chloe, looking tanned and fit in her white shorts and a pink tank top, raced across the dock to greet them. Her dark hair was clipped back in a messy bun.
“Hey, little bro! So happy to see you.” She threw her arms around him and kissed him on the cheek.
“Hey, big sis. Good to see you, too.” He returned the cheek-kiss and stood back, grinning. Then, he gestured toward Effie. “Meet Effie. Effie, this is my big sister, Chloe.”
“You’re the chef, right?” Effie said, holding out her hand.
“Oh, we don’t shake hands with family, do we Zan?” Without waiting for an answer, Chloe wrapped Effie in an embrace and hugged her tight.
Effie stiffened, glanced at Zander, then submitted to the hug.
Chloe released her and stood, smiling. A long strand of her hair fell along her face, freed from her clip. “Yes, I’m the chef. I’ve got dinner waiting for all of us once you two have freshened up and settled.” She regarded Effie appraisingly. “You’re a real beauty, Effie. Zander’s done well for himself.”
Effie’s cheeks turned bright red.
Zander made eye contact and smiled at her reassuringly.
Chloe turned to Zander. “Let’s go meet the parents.”
She hooked her arm with Effie’s, grasped Zander’s left arm on the other side, and ushered them toward the shore where Mom and Dad stood.
Zander said behind his sister’s back, “Chloe gets a little enthusiastic.”
Effie laughed softly.
“Hey, now,” Chloe said. “Would you believe this wanker kicked us all out of his hospital room after the accident? Then, he fell into his own misery hole and kept us away. We’re all dying to see him and be ‘enthusiastic’ as you put it, brother-dear. You look fantastic, by the way,” she said to him.
“Thanks.” Zander beamed. “You look good, too.”
His dad, dressed in shorts and a tan polo shirt, held himself tall, grinning broadly. The old man was still a handsome guy with his dark hair and eyes, like Zander’s. He gripped Zander’s mom’s hand as he waited for their approach.
His mother, always elegant with her long brown hair, flecked with gray, and elegant summer attire of a long, short-sleeved pink and gold dress, had tears in her eyes. “Zander!”
“Hey, Ma,” Zander said, releasing Effie and Chloe to embrace his mother. He kissed both of her cheeks. When he released her, his father cut in.
“Give your old man a squeeze,” he said, hugging him tightly. He patted him over and over as if to reassure himself that his son really stood on the beach before him. Then, he let go and said, “And who’s this pretty young lady?”
“Mom, Dad,” Zander said, stepping next to Effie. “This is Effie D’Archangel. Effie, this is my mom and dad, Donna and Windom King.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Effie said, extending her hand again.
Zander’s dad immediately bear-hugged Effie. “We’re family here on this island.”
“Give me a turn, Windom,” his mom said. She gave Effie a warm hug.
Zander made his way to Effie’s side, beaming.
“Come,” Chloe said with a flourish. “Let’s eat. Are you famished? You must be famished.”
“That’s her way of saying ‘you’d better eat what I’ve prepared, motherfuckers,’” Zander said, slinging his arm around Effie.
“Zander!” his mother chided. “Watch your language.”
Zander chuckled. “Sorry, Ma.”
As they approached his parent’s sprawling, terracotta tile roofed home, which sat nestled in abundant green foliage, Chloe said, “Why don’t you show Effie around? We’ve assaulted the poor girl with kindness, and she probably needs to recover. Mom and I will get the food ready.”
“Would you like to see the house, Effie?” Zander said.
“Yes, I’d like that.” Effie practically glowed.
Zander hoped the glow came from the warm greeting his family gave her. He laced her fingers with his and guided her into the spacious entrance lobby. Vibrant local art hung on the walls, creating a welcoming vibe.
As Zander stepped away from his family, this overwhelming sense of need flooded him. He felt closer to Effie than ever. He wanted her. He needed her. And that scared the crap out of him. He hurried Effie upstairs, winding up the spiral staircase into the luxurious front lounge which overlooked the ocean on three sides.
“What’s the rush?” Effie whispered, following with a laugh.
He answered by pressing her against the lounge wall and kissing her, grinding his need against her thigh.
Footsteps echoed up the staircase. They slapped the tile floor, heading in his direction.
Zander ignored whoever it was, fully involved in kissing Effie.
From nearby, his sister cleared her throat. “The, um, kitchen is up here, too, kids. Right over there, see? The room leading from the lounge?”
Zander released Effie, taking pleasure in her flushed appearance. “Sorry, sis. I had something to say to Effie.”
“I can see that. Don’t let me stop you,” Chloe said, with a wave of her hand as she stepped along the teak floors, past the leather sofas. “But Mom will be up shortly to help, and Dad is probably outside staring in the windows, about to have a heart attack.” She laughed, making her way into the kitchen.
Effie covered her face with her hands.
Zander gently pried her hands away and kissed her softly on the mouth.
“Your parents will hate me now,” she whispered.
“No,” he assured her, “they won’t.”
They dined on one of the upstairs balconies, overlooking the sea.
His sister had prepared coconut lobster bisque, fire roasted beets, local greens, and seared sea scallops with a side of asparagus gratin for dinner. Each course was paired with its own fine wine. Dessert consisted of Key Lime Pie. Throughout the meal, Zander kept sneaking glances at Effie, touching feet with her, and exchanging flirtatious looks.
The evening air hung heavy around them, sultry and intoxicating. Dolphins frolicked beyond the shore. In the distance, a whale spout shot into the air.
Zander leaned back in his chair, a sense of deep contentment filling his bones. He held Effie’s hand as he chatted with his family.
“Why don’t you join us in the kitchen?” his mother finally said to Effie. She stood and began moving about the table gathering silverware and napkins.
“Okay,” Effie said, glancing at Zander.
“We don’t bite,” Chloe said. “I’m sure Mom wants to find out more about you.”
Effie stiffened slightly.
Zander glanced at her. Will my mom ask her how we met? What cover story will Effie give? He started to rise. “Let me help.”
His mom placed a firm hand on his shoulder. “Absolutely not. Your dad has been missing the heck out of you. Let him get his fix.”
“I’ll be there to protect you,” Chloe said to Effie. She pushed to her feet and gathered the dinner plates.
Effie rose to stand and began stacking dessert plates.
When the women had disappeared into the kitchen, Zander’s dad rose, stepping toward the outdoor bar. “Care for some cognac?”
“I’d love some.” Zander glanced toward the kitchen.
I’m sure Effie will come up with a cover story should the need arise.
“Let’s head to the deck, son,” his father said. “I’ll get the booze and meet you over there in a second.”
“Sure, dad,” Zander said. He rose and made his way up another winding staircase to the top floor where a rooftop pool and deck stood.
He settled into a padded lounge chair, lifted his legs to the railing and gazed out at the ocean.
His father returned to the table, extending a crystal glass of amber liquid.
Zander took it and sipped, appreciating the sharp bite preceding the smooth, caramel aftertaste.
His dad relaxed in the adjacent chair, setting his drink to the side. He removed a cigar from his pocket and held it between his fingers.
“I thought you didn’t smoke anymore, Dad,” Zander said.
“I don’t. Your mother won’t let me. Doesn’t mean I can’t pretend.” He picked up his crystal tumbler with his free hand and sipped.
Zander did the same.
Then, his dad said, “That’s quite a catch you’ve got there, Zan.”
He inclined his head toward the house.
“What, Effie? She’s amazing.” Zander sipped his cognac. “Smartest, bravest woman I ever met.”
“What are your intentions with her?” his dad asked, flashing him a shrewd look.
Zander tensed. “I’m not sure,” he said, giving his father a side-eyed glance. “I enjoy her company. We’re keeping it light and casual,” he added, suddenly feeling Kent on his shoulder. “Why?”
“Son, you’ve never known me to mince words.” His dad looked over the rim of his crystal glass and took another sip of cognac.
Zander’s belly began to cramp around the meal he’d just consumed. “What is it that you need to say?”
He took a sip of his drink.
“You’re bullshitting yourself if you think what you and Effie have is casual. I’ve never seen you look at another girl that way. And she’s head over heels for you,” his dad said, leveling him with a gaze.
Zander choked on a mouthful of cognac. He dropped his feet onto the deck and coughed until he had it under control. “What’s your point?”
“You know how much I love you, son. That last gal…what was her name? Trisha?”
“Yeah, that was her name,” Zander said, glowering.
“She did a real number on you. Your sister was worried about you for a while. When she told us how you looked when she Skyped you, back when you were with that bitch-gal—what’s her name? Trisha?”
“Yeah,” Zander said darkly, hating the reminder.
His dad nodded. “We were all worried. Don’t let this one get away. That’s all I’m saying. Or, if you choose to believe your bullshit story about how this is all fun and games, break it off now before you totally destroy her heart. You two are in the deep end of the pool. It’s obvious to everyone but you.”
Sharp arrows of defensiveness stabbed at Zander’s insides. He suddenly felt like a rebellious young teen. He wanted to rise, storm off the deck, and hide in his room, playing mega-metal at ungodly levels to piss his parents off, the way he did when he was an idiot sixteen-year-old.
Instead, he said, “Thanks, Dad, but I’ve got this. Thanks for your concern.”
But his insides told another story. In a few short weeks, he and Effie would have to come to grips with their arrangement. He wanted to put off any decisions for as long as he could.