Page 11 of What Remains

And out of my sad-girl mood as I miss a guy who is off living my one-bedroom fantasy but with another girl.

CHAPTER 3

Gwen

PALM JUMEIRAH ISLAND, U.A.E.

Music spills across the pool like liquid light, impossible to catch. Laughter floats with it, mingling with the bite of salt air and the perfume of wealth.

From our cabana, I can make out Dubai’s skyline. The Burj Khalifa’s needle tip slices through a golden haze, not far from where Carter and the other husbands are watching the kids.

Natasha got her way. Of course she did.

Our server drifts over, his smile getting bolder with each round. Doesn’t take a genius to decipher who he singled out amongst the five of us—the only one without a ring.

“Maybe flirt back a little? Won’t kill ya,” Diana teases.

I slide my sunglasses down just enough to meet Diana’s smirk. “Or, hear me out, it just might.” I push my Versace aviators back in place and accept the cocktail. The chilled stem is a small mercy in the heat.

Day two of this girls’ trip, and I’m still the designated buzzkill. Fruity drinks and sunshine have yet to unknot the tension behind my ribs.

Unlike me, the others look perfectly at ease. As they should be. I’m with four very different women from different worlds all pulled together by their husbands and near-death experiences. They’ve got skills my experiences can’t match.

My stepmum can read a lie faster than most satellites. Diana has literally saved the world once and will no doubt do it again. Ella makes grace look effortless, juggling fashion launches and motherhood in Alabama. Juliette balances handling a teenager and newborn while being married to a man who owns half of New York. And then there’s me—the single one with issues.

Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate what they’re trying to do. But being surrounded by family and friends at Christmas and on New Year’s didn’t help, and it isn’t helping now. Doesn’t matter where I go, I still feel the hollow space Easton used to occupy.

Natasha’s presence reminds me my father is still vetting his replacement, not yet finding anyone willing to take the job. No doubt because of him, and hopefully not because of me. I’m not that hard to handle.

Juliette, well, she’s Easton’s stepsister—no further explanation needed.

And just looking at Ella nearly sends me over this rooftop’s edge. She fake married her brother’s best friend and it turned into a real wedding. Not that it’s a big deal Zoey and Easton are playing pretend. Totally fine. Perfect, actually. And so I’ll continue to tell myself until it sticks.

“You’re brooding.” Diana waves a hand in the air, drawing me out of my head. “Group rule: you’re not allowed to be sad.”

I sigh, nearly slipping and admitting I miss Easton, but uncut emotional repression keeps those words at bay. Maybe with a little more vodka I might open up later.

“How about we spy on the guys?” Ella suggests. “See what trouble they’re getting into. I’m still shocked you got those men to even agree to this, to be honest.” She lifts her glass Natasha’s way as a thank-you.

“Well, you know they’re watching us.” Natasha closes the cabana curtains to block the security cameras. “I’m fairly certain I also clocked two ‘guests’ by the pool. Tails, courtesy of one of our husbands. Or maybe even my dad.” Her CIA instincts are usually spot on, so I’m sure she’s right. “Still can’t believe he and your mom are competing in the primary to be the nominee for president.”

Diana scowls. “Trust me, I’m rooting for your dad. Plan to vote for him, too. Just don’t tell my mom.”

I laugh. Don’t blame her. Her mom may be secretary of state, but she’s the last person any of us would like to report to in any way, shape, or form.

“But we need one of them to win the primary, and then the election in November.” Natasha grimaces. “Who knows what will happen to the teams if they don’t. Probably disbanded.”

She has a point. If someone on the outside gets elected, Dad, along with the others who secretly work off the books for POTUS, might be out of a job. Falcon Falls will also lose our much needed “in” with the White House.

“Just never thought it’d be my dad to run. Pretty sure that’s President Bennett’s doing. Can’t imagine him saying yes to anyone else.” She sinks on the couch between Ella and Juliette. “I did have a feeling your mom might run, though.”

“Sadly, me, too. She’s power hungry.” Diana angles her head toward my bag, signaling she’s up for spying on the guys and would probably rather talk about anything but her mom becoming president. No chance Carter will let his mother-in-law tell him what to do. Not ever.

I hesitantly remove my rig from my bag as Ella murmurs, “These guys . . .” She lifts her chin in the direction of Carter and Diana’s skyrise home. “Wouldn’t even let us vacation anywhere more than a five-minute helo ride away from them.”

Hence, Palm Jumeirah.

Juliette chuckles. “Don’t act like we don’t all love our men a little obsessed.”