DALT VILA, IBIZA
The view from the Plaça de la Catedral sweeps across the entire harbor and beyond into the hills, a carpet of lights competing with the mass of stars in the transparent night sky. Carson had no idea Eivissa—the Catalan name for Ibiza Town—is this spread out or could be this pretty. “Wow.”
Sebastian brushes the back of her hand with the back of his. Accidental? Hope not. “Worth the climb?”
“Totally.” The posse had come to the walled Dalt Vila—Old Town—for dinner and a pub crawl through the narrow streets packed with tourists, cafés, shops, and taverns. She barely noticed the climb until now, when it’s clear they’re forty or fifty meters higher than they started. A nice way to work off the huge meal.
The thirteenth-century cathedral’s uplit bulk casts a warm glow over the plaza. Somehow, she and Sebastian are separated from the others by several meters and a few parked cars. She’s not sure if she caused that or he did, but she doesn’t mind. “Always this warm this late here?”
“Yes, in August. It’s perfect swimming weather.”
“That an invite?” She hopes it is.
Sebastian chuckles. “We’ll see when we get back to the house.”
They both gaze at the shimmering lights and stars and trade sighs for a few minutes. Carson knows she should just stand here with this gorgeous man and listen to him breathe, but something’s been bugging her since their talk by the pool yesterday. She finally asks, “Why are you here? Why aren’t you back home, making tons of money?”
Sebastian grunts something between a chuckle and a snort. “That was Da’s plan. I’m supposed to follow his footsteps. I got my business degree at Trinners. I—”
“Trinners?”
“Trinity College Dublin. Maybe you’ve heard of it. I knew the moment I walked off Parliament Square the last time, I could walk into a position I didn’t deserve at the bank and do as Da did—make myself rich by cheating other people and pitching the mess on the government to clean up.”
“So you came here instead.”
“I did.”
“And you picked up Vicki in a bar one day and got way more than you expected.”
He laughs. “I can’t say that I picked her up or she picked me up, but the rest’s true.”
She examines this for some moments. If this is a sparring session, she’s been giving Sebastian light jabs to counter. It’s time to hit harder to see what happens. “Iris gave me the lowdown on most of your friends. Sounds like you all have daddy issues or mommy issues, and you ran away from home.”
Sebastian scowls. “I reckon everything was sunshine and rainbows at home for you?”
“Not even. Mom’s a sloppy drunk and Pops is up to his eyeballs in hock. I had to raise my three younger brothers because Mom was fucking useless. A five-year-old changing a two-year-old’s diaper. Big difference is, I couldn’t run away. There was no place for me to go and no money to get there. Call me ‘jealous’ that you had choices.”
The next quiet is tense. Sebastian shakes his head and lets out a long breath. After a while, he says, “Sorry. I’d no idea. You’re right—we all had choices. It’s odd how much alike we all are. We got all the advantages people like you never have. Nannies, tutors, trainers. We all went to first-class universities and got degrees in business or finance or economics. All the things we were supposed to do so we could take over the world from our folks. But something else you didn’t have were the expectations. The plans that Ma and Da make for you that you don’t get a say in. That silver spoon tarnishes when it’s in your mouth too long.”
“I’m supposed to feel sorry for you?”
“No. It’d be nice if you’d give us a nod for not doing the easy thing and going along. Iris lost her trust funds because she’s here. Same thing happened to Lukas—he was with us last year—and his parents called the guards on him. Serena—she left in April—her granddad wrote her out of his will. That cost her a right pretty sum.”
“But what’re you doing that’s worth…that? Why did they stay?”
Sebastian stares off toward a lit-up cruise ship across the harbor. “We give them something to believe in that’s not about making money for themselves.”
Jesus, that again. “Giving money to charities? They could do that at home. Why’s it worth losing their trust funds?”
“It’s the scale, and the way we do it. We can make far more of an impact together than we can alone.” He gives her a sharp look. “You wouldn’t understand unless you’d grown up in our world.”
Try me, she wants to say. That nugget about Iris is worth stashing in her back pocket. “Sorry. I don’t know where the land mines are.”
Now he frowns at her. “Are you always like this? Never satisfied with what you already know? Always digging deeper, trying to turn up dirt?”
If I had a loonie for every time somebody asked that… “It’s what I do. Something sticks sideways in my head and I gotta work it out. That’s what made me a good detective.”
“Detective?” His eyebrows climb his forehead. “You were in the guards?”
“Police. Toronto. Long time ago.”
“That’s what I meant. We call them ‘the guards’ in Ireland. The Garda.” He focuses on her eyes for a while. “You were a proper copper? Uniform and all?”
“Yeah. On patrol, not when I was a detective. And a sidearm.” Wind him up a little? Sure. “Handcuffs, too. If you’re into that.”
His chuckle is a bit nervous. “Why’d you stop? Or did you?”
“Long story I don’t wanna tell now.” She glances up at him. “You have secrets. So do I.”