“GORGEOUS.” ANNE’S GAZE bounced around the vast expanse of sandy shoreline. “What a great idea. Being so close to the beach is still something of a novelty for me. I love it.”
Earlier, Anne had texted to see if Camile could get together after her morning shift at Blue Carafe “to talk about something.” Hoping everything was all right, Camile had immediately agreed and suggested the location. They’d met at the gazebo and descended the wide cement stairs that emptied onto the beach.
Strolling toward the water’s edge, Camile stopped to slip off her shoes. “Me too, believe it or not. Growing up, we always lived close to the ocean. You think I’d be over it, but I’m not. I don’t want to go swimming in it like my sister Aubrey.” She paused to add a wry grin. “But I love pretty much everything else about it, the scenery, the sand, the salty air, even the temperamental weather.”
“Rhys, too. He’s always loved it. When he was about twelve, and he told Mom and Dad that he wanted to be a SEAL, they thought he meant an actual seal because he was obsessed with the ocean. Imagine their concern over their seemingly intelligent twelve-year-old fantasizing about being a marine mammal.”
Camile laughed. “You can see that about him in the way he built his house, can’t you? And I don’t just mean because it’s situated on a cliff overlooking the ocean. It’s the way that he captured the views with the ocean as the focal point. No matter where you are, you can either see the ocean, or you’re just a few steps away from being able to see it. And Rhys almost always stands or sits where he can see it.”
Anne slipped her a quick sideways glance. “He did that very thing on purpose. He went to incredible lengths to make sure of it, including endless measuring and calculating and laying out of the floor plan.” After a chuckle, she asked, “Did he tell you about it?”
“No, he didn’t. I just...”
“Know him,” Anne finished her sentence with complete certainty. And then added with what sounded like a twinge of awe, “You know my brother and that’s no easy feat.”
“I don’t know about that, but I’ve definitely observed a few things about the guy.”
Anne’s smile held the soft edge of satisfaction. “I’m going to ask you a question, and I want you to answer as truthfully as possible, okay?”
“Okay,” Camile agreed slowly, feeling a flutter of nerves without knowing exactly why. “Does this have to do with what you wanted to talk to me about?”
“It does.”
“Ask away.”
“What do you think of Rhys?”
Oh. Good question. How did she explain to Rhys’s sister that she’d grudgingly accepted that she liked the guy she’d hated for the last two years? “Um...”
“Pretend he’s not my brother. I should have prefaced the question with that proviso in the first place. I promise there’s a reason why I want to know. So go ahead and tell me how you would describe him to someone else.”
That was easier. “Kind, interesting, thoughtful, talented and completely brilliant. I think he’s the smartest person I’ve ever personally met, and... But he’s also...”
“Rude, annoying, odd?” Anne suggested.
“No,” she answered firmly. “Honest, shy, eccentric—yes. Annoying—absolutely not. And, I mean...”
“Go ahead.” She waved a hand, encouraging Camile to continue.
“Well, it’s difficult to see at first and even harder to explain. But the way I see it, him, is that his honesty collides with the shyness and produces this awkward guy who then comes across as abrupt.” She cocked her head, contemplating her description. “And, I’ll concede, that sometimes comes across as rude.”
“Uh-huh,” Anne said, nodding in agreement.
“The mystique that has emerged around him due to his reclusive habits doesn’t help matters. The property, the lighthouse, the bunker—him being off-limits only heightens the collective curiosity. People don’t understand. They want to know why and who he is and what he’s up to. Then there’s the added difficulty of him being so...physically appealing. People wonder how a guy that nice-looking could not be in love with himself. But for Rhys, his looks are a liability. He doesn’t want to draw attention to himself. He doesn’t want attention, period. And he doesn’t like getting it for the wrong reason, does he?”
“No, he doesn’t.”
“I never in a million years thought I could feel bad for someone who looks like him. I feel bad about my own preconceived notions where he was concerned.” Camile chuckled and shook her head. “Is that a thing? Beautiful-people problems?”
Anne grinned appreciatively at her. “You’re psych major is showing.”
“Probably, but I’m not sure that it makes me any more insightful.”
Anne bent over to pick up an empty limpet shell. “You like him.”
It was more of a statement than a question, but Camile answered it anyway, “Yes, I do.”
“How would you feel about spending more time with him?”
“Um...” Anxiety constricted her chest, a bitter leftover she knew from the date. But it was also coupled with the stark realization that she wished she was in a place where she could explore a relationship with him. She’d been thinking about this, and the simple fact was that she wasn’t ready for a relationship with anyone, especially not Rhys. If she was, she would want it to be Rhys, but what she’d told him held true: no way would she foist her problems onto him, no matter how much he claimed he wanted to help.
The “helping” made her slightly uncomfortable. She’d witnessed his take-charge attitude when she’d been sick. But she’d noticed he hadn’t mentioned another word about helping or dating since they’d had the conversation and she’d been served with Bobby’s lawsuit right before his eyes. Presumably, she’d managed to scare him away, and that was a good thing. Even if it didn’t feel very good.
Anne exhaled a loud, breathy chuckle and said, “I’m sorry. Apparently, Rhys isn’t the only one who can be a little abrupt. I’m not usually. It’s part of my job to be diplomatic and persuasive, but I’m doing a terrible job of it here. It’s different when something is so...personal and important.”
This wasn’t the first time Camile had felt like she was missing something important where this family was concerned.
Anne stopped walking and faced her. Camile mirrored her actions, and Anne said, “I’d like for you to spend more time with my brother.”
“I don’t...you mean, like dating?”
“If that’s what you want, that’d be fantastic! It would help so much.”
What! “Anne, maybe I wasn’t clear enough before. Or maybe there is some sort of sister-brother mind distortion going on between your optical nerve and your brain that doesn’t allow you to see him clearly. Rhys is gorgeous. Like a fairy-tale prince. And last night, the most beautiful woman in, in...in all the kingdom made it very clear to Rhys that she’d like to date him. He could date any woman he wanted.”
“What if he wants you?”
“He doesn’t,” she answered quickly and then tried to explain. “He definitely... It’s possible he may have thought he did for a brief moment, but that was before...”
“Before what?” Anne asked with blatant curiosity.
Camile knew she was waiting for an explanation, but she held her ground and answered with an ambiguous, “Before he knew me better.” Shaking her head, she swallowed nervously and said, “It’s difficult to explain, but he knows I’m not interested in a relationship. I do like him, and I’m enjoying teaching him how to dance. He’s a great student, just like you promised. And he’s a fun guy to spend time with.”
“Huh.” She frowned. “Rhys told me this morning that you didn’t want to date him, but I didn’t believe him.”
“If you discussed this already, that means Rhys doesn’t think this is a good idea, either.”
“No, he knows dating is a good idea, in theory. Our attorney told him that. He doesn’t like the idea of dating you for the sole purpose of improving his reputation.”
“Wait a minute, your attorney? Anne, what is going on?”
Gazing out toward the water, Anne nibbled on her lower lip, and then seemed to make a decision. “What did Rhys tell you about Willow?” she asked quickly. “About her living with Rhys?”
“That she’s your niece. Her parents, your brother and his wife, have both passed away. Rhys is her legal guardian. And he’s learning to dance for her cotillion, for the opening father-daughter dance.”
“But nothing about Willow’s aunt Heather, or the lawsuit?”
“No...” Lawsuit? Camile felt a swirl of dread forming right at her core.
“Legally, Rhys has custody. But Heather, Vanessa’s sister, is contesting the will and suing for custody. She’s trying to take Willow away from him, from us.”
A bolt of shock ran through her. “What? But why? If Evan and Vanessa wanted Rhys to raise her, why would she do this?”
Dread and confusion gave way to anger when Anne explained, “Her claim is that Rhys is unfit to raise Willow. That he lives a highly unusual and reclusive lifestyle. That his behavior is questionable. Shutting himself, and Willow, away from the world would be detrimental to her well-being... Et cetera.”
“That’s completely ridiculous and unfair! It’s not like he’s a weirdo hermit or something.” Although, she had heard that very term to describe him at the wine tasting yesterday. Frustration twisted inside her at the injustice and the stress he must be feeling.
That was when it all came together: the sudden social outings, odd conversations between Rhys and Anne, the seemingly exaggerated reactions to situations. “That’s why he’s been going to these events, isn’t it? Dinners and parties and the fund-raiser? To prove that he isn’t these things?”
“Pretty much. It’s all part of a larger plan to improve his reputation and show that he’s an active, productive member of the community. But it’s not going quite like I planned.”
“I see.” And she did. She’d been listening to the gossip herself and reporting to Anne what she heard, with no idea about why Anne needed to know. Or why it was so important. This was way more serious than she’d imagined. No wonder Rhys had backed off when he found out about her lawsuit. Likely he’d realized what Camile already knew: he didn’t need her baggage weighing him down, too. Not when he was grappling with a lawsuit of his own, one that was much more important than what she was facing.
“What does Willow want?”
“She wants to stay with Rhys. She’s old enough to voice her opinion, but Bailey says the court isn’t required to consider it. Especially if Heather can prove that Rhys is unfit.”
“Unfit?” Frustration ground into her along with the mention of that word again. “Are you kidding me?” No matter how many people he offended or dates he’d abandoned, he did not deserve this. And poor Willow. As if the child hadn’t suffered enough trauma in her life. Now there was a custody battle waging over her. It had taken Camile about two seconds to see how much Willow adored her uncle, and vice versa. It had only taken her slightly longer to ascertain the depth of Rhys’s love and devotion.
“I know.” Anne scraped at the sand with the toe of her shoe. “That’s why I’ve been dragging him around town asking him to pretend to be someone he’s not. He’s trying so hard. But he’s miserable, and he’s very bad at schmoozing and making friends.” One hand flipped up toward Camile. “Well, you’ve seen him in action. Evan was the same way. But with Rhys, there is the added problem of him being virtually incapable of subterfuge.”
“He does give new meaning to the term ‘honest to a fault,’ doesn’t he?”
Anne barked out an approving laugh. “I’ve told him that very thing many times. Yesterday, the attorney mentioned that in these cases, it can help to have a wife or a steady girlfriend. I started thinking about how much smoother his interactions have been recently. You saved him at the scavenger hunt and then again at the wine tasting. That’s when it dawned on me. It’s you. He’s different with you, more relaxed, more...himself. The real Rhys. The one I know and the one you’ve gotten to know. The man we need for other people to see. He smiles when he’s with you.”
Camile couldn’t disagree. Rhys did seem better when she was with him. His demeanor was less stiff, his speech not quite as abrupt, and he did smile more—all of this making him appear friendlier. Camile had introduced him to many people last night, and she’d only cringed at his remarks a few times. Even then, she’d been able to help clarify his meaning and smooth things over.
“Anne, I’d love to help. I would. I already adore Willow, and I can’t stand to think about her or Rhys, any of you, having to go through this, but I’m not sure what you want me to do, exactly?”
Reaching into the bag strapped over her shoulder, Anne removed a piece of paper. “I have a list of outings and things that I’d like him to participate in. The dates and times are all on there.”
“But if Rhys isn’t comfortable having me as a fake girlfriend, I don’t see how this would work.”
“Well, you’re already real friends, right?”
“Yes.” That, she could both accept and admit.
With an easy shrug, Anne said, “That’s all you need to be. Just go with him to these events and activities and do what you did last night. You know practically everybody in this town. I’ve asked around, and I doubt there’s anyone as well liked as you are. Introduce him around, help him navigate it all.”
Camile studied the list. “Wow. This is a lot. Honestly, I don’t know how I’d fit all this in. Evenings are tough. Even without checking my calendar, I can tell you that I have to work on most of these nights teaching dance classes or waiting tables at Tabbie’s. And Saturday and Sunday afternoons, I’m at the bowling alley.”
“Is there any way you could quit Tabbie’s and the bowling alley?”
“I’m so sorry, Anne. I can’t afford to do that.”
“No, I mean, I’ll pay you to quit those jobs and work for me. Double what you’re making now.”
“You want to pay me to be your brother’s friend?”
“Yes. But let’s not call it that. Let’s call it compensation for lost wages. And we can’t let Rhys know that I’m paying you. He’d never agree. In fact, we’ll have to be careful about how we go about this.”
Camile studied the list again and thought. Hal would be disappointed, but she could appease him by working one weekend day, especially if Jason worked out like she suspected he would. She’d want to stay on the schedule at Tabbie’s, but she could reduce her hours and possibly trade for lunch shifts. What was she thinking? This felt...extreme. And yet she knew Anne was right; she could help. She wanted to help. Another part of her wanted to agree for selfish reasons, too. Because who was she kidding? She wanted to spend time with him, to protect him from the gossipmongers and bullies in this town who misunderstood him. And clearly Anne was desperate. What if she said no and Anne asked someone else to do it? Like Gabrielle.
“Please, Camile. I can see you’re considering it. You know I’m right about this. I need help. Rhys needs help. Willow needs to stay with us. Rhys needs you. We all need you.”
CAMILE GATHERED HER courage as Rhys led her around the dance floor. He seemed stoic and thoughtful and maybe even a little sad. And no wonder. An ache formed in the pit of her stomach at the reminder of the stress and worry she now knew he was feeling.
After a complete rotation, she dredged up a gentle smile and said, “You are doing fabulously.”
His answer was a relieved grin that made her want to hug him. “I am, kind of, huh?”
“Yes,” she confirmed with a chuckle. “I can tell you’ve been practicing. Anne said you guys were thinking about going to the Chowder Challenge on Saturday. She needs to go to Portland for work. I was planning on going. Do you want to go with me?”
He stopped moving but kept his arms around her.
Staring up at him, she asked, “Why did you stop?”
“I can’t talk and dance at the same time.”
“I think if you’d let me play some music, you’d find that easier.”
“I wouldn’t.” Rhys sighed and let his arms drop to his sides. “Then there would be one more thing for me to keep track of. Stepping, counting and music.”
“Music brings it all together.”
“Maybe for you.”
“You do realize you’re going to have to dance with music at some point, right?”
“Of course.”
“Can we put a timeline on that?”
Slowly, his gaze narrowed in on her as if thinking it over.
As was often the case, his response seemed to come from the intersection of left field and outer space. “What if I wore earplugs?”
Camile stared up at him, ready to laugh, but then realized he might not be joking. “You want to wear earplugs while you’re dancing?” she attempted to clarify.
“Yes. If I wore earplugs, the music would be muted enough that it wouldn’t distract me. I could count out the steps. Deaf people do it—the counting, I mean. I doubt they wear earplugs.”
Camile folded her arms over her chest. “Yes, they do count, but you’re not deaf. So what’s the deal?”
Shifting on his feet, he shoved his hands into his pockets and said, “I don’t enjoy music the way most people do.”
She recalled him mentioning this before but hadn’t thought he’d meant it then, either. Pausing, she pondered this revelation before asking, “What is it that you hear that you don’t like?”
“Noise. Chaos in my head. It’s distracting, but not in a good way.”
“Interesting.”
Shoulders lifting, he cringed a little. “I’m sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?”
“Because I know you like it.”
“I do, but the fact that you don’t is not something to apologize for. I’m sure there are things that you like that I don’t.”
“This is a strange one, though. I’ve found myself apologizing for it my entire life. I’ve been stalling because I didn’t want to tell you. Stalling is kind of like lying, and so that’s been bothering me, too.”
“Why? Is there something I’ve said or done that makes you think I would judge you for this?”
“Of course not.”
“Good.” She added a sincere, encouraging smile. “Don’t worry. We’ll fix this. Let me do some research.”
He looked stricken by her words.
“What’s the matter?”
“It’s a neurological condition. It can’t be fixed.”
There were times when she couldn’t help herself; she had to tease him. Scrunching her face into a mock look of thoughtful skepticism, she asked, “Are you sure? Not even with brain surgery?”
“No, it’s not considered a medical issue. As far as I know, there’s no elective procedure, either.”
“Rhys!” Camile reached out and gave his arm a squeeze. “Would you lighten up about this? I was joking. I meant that we’ll find a way to work around it.”
“Oh.” A slow smile spread across his face. “You’re taking this so much better than I thought you would. I was afraid you’d like me less because of it.”
“You know all that computer equipment that you have set up in your office?”
“Yes.”
“Just looking at it makes my eyes glaze over. If you forced me to sit down and learn how to use it, I would probably cry. Do you think less of me because of that?”
“No.”
“If anything, I think even more highly of you for taking on this dancing project under the circumstances.”
“I would do anything for Willow.”
Admiration and affection welled inside her. His devotion, his love for his niece, left her a little awed. It was exactly what she needed to hear to dispel the lingering doubts she had about the plan she and Anne had devised. No one could possibly love that child more than Rhys. Camile would do whatever she could to make sure he got to do exactly that.
“Now, do you want to go to the Chowder Challenge with me or not?”
“I have no idea what that is, but honestly, I don’t care. I’ll go anywhere with you.”
“In that case—”
“Almost anywhere,” he amended. “No concerts or karaoke.” With a wink and that grin that made her heart smile, he pulled her back into his arms and started counting.