One Foolish Night

He nodded, chuckling. “Yes, in front of Holly.”

Tara gave him a sideways glance and slapped him on his upper arm. “You’re terrible.”

Paul shot her a pleading look.

“Okay, but if she scratches my eyes out, I’ll sue you for all you’re worth. Maybe that’ll cement my financial independence from my parents.”

He laughed. “Don’t worry, the only one she’s going to lay hands on will be me.”

And he couldn’t wait for it to happen, because if he wasn’t wrong in his assessment, he could vividly imagine what Holly would do to him if she thought another woman was encroaching on her territory.

19

Holly marched out of her room and along the second-floor corridor. She’d seen from her window how Tara had smiled seductively at Paul and how he had laughed out loud at something she’d said. Did this woman really think she had what it took to satisfy a man like Paul?

“Puh-lease!” she grumbled to herself.

After taking a long shower and spending over an hour getting dressed, then another hour to calm her nerves, she was finally ready to go downstairs and show that little tart that she wouldn’t let Paul go without a fight.

Damn it! She’d promised herself she’d leave her emotions out of this, but what had happened out at the pool—before that rich bitch had appeared—had changed all that. First his heartfelt apology over breakfast had softened her up, then his selfless lovemaking had done the rest. No wonder she was all flustered and confused. It wasn’t her fault! Besides, her hormones were all messed up too. It was all Paul’s fault!

When Holly walked down the wide staircase, she could already hear voices coming from the kitchen. Not just voices, laughter too!

Doublechecking her casual outfit—a low-cut navy and white striped top that accentuated her breasts, and a pair of white pants—she knew she could compete with any rich girl from the Hamptons, even though she didn’t wear designer clothes or expensive jewelry.

With a fortifying breath, Holly marched into the kitchen.

“Oh, that’s too funny,” she heard Tara say, and laugh.

Holly caught sight of Tara just as she slapped Paul on the shoulder. They stood at the kitchen sink, shoulder to shoulder, their backs to her. From what she could see, Tara was busy washing some lettuce while Paul was cutting tomatoes into slices.

Well, wasn’t that just very cozy and domestic? How long exactly had these two known each other?

“No, it’s the truth!” Paul now replied to Tara, laughing. “Your mother thought he was a waiter and tipped him. And very generously, I might add. Needless to say, he took the money and kept his mouth shut.”

“That’s a lot funnier than what happened that summer at the Campbells’ beach house. I don’t remember, did you and your family attend their pool party that year?”

Holly took another step into the kitchen, not sure how to interrupt them. She didn’t belong here. From their conversation she could tell that they had many mutual acquaintances, all rich and connected. It was like breaking into a closed clique after starting at a new high school. She felt like an outsider who had no chance of ever being part of this.

Holly pivoted.

“Holly, there you are,” Paul suddenly said, making her whirl back. She noticed how he ran an appreciative glance over her body. “I was going to come and get you in a minute.”

Yeah, right! Of course you were. When you were done flirting with Tara.

He motioned to Tara, who had also turned. “Tara and I are making a salad. And I’ve ordered a pizza.”

“Great,” Holly forced herself to answer with a smile. “I love pizza.”

Tara dried her hands on a towel, then walked toward her. “Hi, sorry, I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself earlier. I’m Tara Pierpont. I’m a friend of the family.”

Reluctantly, Holly shook her hand. “Holly Foster. Nice to meet you.” She decided not to make any excuses for why she’d run off when Tara had surprised them at the pool. Why remind everybody of an embarrassing situation?

Holly glanced around, desperate for something to do so she wouldn’t have to make small talk. “How about I set the table?”

Paul pointed to the kitchen island with the barstools. “I figured we’d eat here. No need to drag everything into the dining room.”

“Sounds good,” Holly answered and walked to the kitchen cabinets, when she realized that she had no idea where the plates and the cutlery were kept.

Paul smiled at her and pointed to one of the cabinets, then to a drawer, before turning back to his cutting board.