The Weight of Forever: (Grand Harbor: Book Two) Read online

  THE WEIGHT

  OF FOREVER

  (Grand Harbor: Book Two)

  By: Randileigh Kennedy

  Copyright 2018 by Randileigh Kennedy

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, people, or places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are simply products of the author’s imagination, and any similarity to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any way whatsoever without written consent from the author.

  Chapter 1

  “You know that sad feeling you get when they show a serial killer on the news, and he’s actually kind of attractive? That’s always a real bummer, right?”

  “What?” I choked on my drink. “No, I don’t know that feeling. As soon as they say ‘serial killer’ I would argue that’s a firm deal breaker and I couldn’t possibly find someone attractive after that. I don’t think that’s a thing.”

  “Oh, it’s a thing all right. I watch a lot of crime shows. It happens more often than you think. I mean, look at that face,” Lexi said, tilting her head to the side. “What does that look mean? Is he being shy? Is he flirting? Is he trying to look interested, or pensive, or psychotic?”

  “What are you talking about?” I scanned the room, trying to figure out what she was saying.

  “Olivia, that super hot guy in the grey suit has been staring at you for at least twenty minutes.” Lexi nodded subtly toward the fish tank across the room. “Perfect hair aside, I’m not convinced you should go for it. I can’t quite decipher the look on his face. Does he know you? Or does he want to know you? His eyes are suggesting he either wants to take you out for an intimate dinner, or maybe keep you in his back shed until your parents pay a sizeable ransom. I honestly can’t tell what his expression means. You know I’m a bad judge of character. I would be the girl who unknowingly falls for a serial killer.”

  I glanced discretely toward the other side of the room. She was correct about a few things - he was attractive, and his dark hair was neat. His suit looked sharp. “Maybe he’s actually staring at you, because clearly you’ve been eyeing him back this entire time.”

  “It’s definitely you,” she said quickly, shaking her head. “When I got our drinks earlier I noticed it. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you. I can’t tell if it’s hot or creepy. It’s like he’s studying you or something.”

  “It’s a masquerade ball,” I replied dismissively. “Maybe he’s just trying to figure out if he knows me. Besides, we’re the only females in here under fifty. It feels like every man in this room has recognized that fact. Mr. Anderson, that old guy my dad plays golf with, he was ogling you the entire time you were trying to hook your bracelet.”

  “Everyone has a mask on, how do you know it was Mr. Anderson?”

  “Lexi, that tiny bedazzled plastic eye mask he has on is doing nothing for the giant bald spot on the back of his head.” We both giggled. “It doesn’t matter, I’m not going to do anything about it whether he’s truly staring at me or not. A masquerade ball is one of the top five worst places to meet a guy.”

  “Why? What else is on that list?”

  “I don’t know, it’s like meeting a guy at the pharmacy. Too many unanswered questions that you just can’t talk about, right? Or worse, meeting someone at your gynecologist’s office. Or what about that guy who tried to hit on me in CVS that one time? Remember, I was looking at orthotic shoe inserts because I’m convinced I’m already starting to get a bunion at the tender age of twenty-three? There is no room for romance when you’re holding a Dr. Scholl’s product. A man shouldn’t even try.”

  “This is like the opposite of all those situations. Those are all personal, intimate things. I’m with you about not wanting to meet a guy at my OB’s office. But a masquerade party? I don’t know, I think it’s kind of hot. Some masked stranger you know nothing about, wanting to whisk you away…”

  “How have you not been kidnapped and murdered yet?” I laughed. “Being whisked away by any masked man is everything my mom has warned me about my entire life. She has literally scared me away from ever parking next to a van in any mall parking lot for that very reason.”

  “He’s in a nice suit,” she replied with a shrug. “You could do worse.”

  “Exactly. I have done worse. On any given Saturday night, I literally do worse…which is why a handsome stranger in a mask has no appeal to me. I need more transparency in my life. A young guy at a charity gala wearing really expensive shoes – I mean I get it, look what I grew up with.” I motioned my arms around in an animated fashion, as if Lexi needed proof that my parents’ house was in fact truly ostentatious and ridiculous. “Money can’t buy authenticity. That guy just looks like the “before” version of every old dude in here, showing off for all of the other rich people. That does nothing for me. He looks stuffy and boring like the rest of them. You know I don’t do boring.”

  A loud voice came from over the surround sound speakers, notifying everyone at the party that the silent auction would begin in fifteen minutes. I glanced over at the two-hundred-year-old grandfather clock standing next to the oversized staircase, forever impressed that it still worked after all these years. It was only seven-fifteen.

  “Do you want to leave?” Lexi asked, no doubt picking up on my frustration. “We can head downtown, or find a bonfire on the beach?”

  That was one of my favorite things about Grand Harbor, Michigan. It was a small beach town, so I wouldn’t exactly characterize it as a bustling place, but there was always a fun spot to chill somewhere along the sand, whether in someone’s backyard or around one of the many sandy coves in the area.

  “I promised my mom I would stay until nine,” I huffed, fully annoyed. Every year they had this same party – a masquerade gala to raise money for the local children’s hospital. I appreciated their intentions. It was an excellent cause, and I volunteered myself for various fundraisers and 5k’s throughout the year. I genuinely loved being part of the charity in that aspect. But these fundraisers – the kinds of parties my parents went to year-round – they were exhausting, and totally not my scene. These parties seemed more like an opportunity for Grand Harbor’s wealthiest residents to show off what they had, perpetually trying to outdo one another with their oh-so-generous donations. It just wasn’t my style. Despite my parents’ wealth, they still made me earn everything I had, and I appreciated that more and more as I got older.

  It was hard not to get caught up in it all. For a brief moment I felt embarrassed that the twelve hundred dollar dress I had on was a rental. That reminded me just how far away I was from ‘making it on my own,’ at least by these extravagant standards. The entire thing just didn’t suit me.

  Lexi’s phone rang, and I could tell instantly it was her boyfriend Nathan. I loved the way her face lit up when she saw his name on the screen. She answered it, and her expression changed as soon as he started talking. She looked saddened by whatever he was saying. She motioned a finger toward me, stepping outside to finish her call.

  Awesome. Standing alone in a room full of boring rich people. Just how I wanted my night to end up.

  I reached into my bag for my phone, not surprised to see the total lack of missed calls and texts on my blank screen. I looked through some old photos, trying to give off some impression like I was in the middle of something important. Lexi rejoined me a minute or two later.

  “What’s wrong? Your eyes are all red,” I said, noticing the emotion on her face.

  “Nathan’s dog Jersey is really sick. Sh
e’s not eating.” Her voice cracked as she said it. “He’s had that dog since he was in elementary school. I’ve never heard him cry before. This is so horrible.”

  “Oh my goodness.” I put my hand gently on her arm. “You need to go. You should be with him, that has to be so hard.”

  “They’re heading to the vet now. It doesn’t sound good.” She wiped a tear from her eye.

  “I am so sorry to hear that, Lex. Get out of here. You should be with him.”

  “I can’t abandon you here,” she said sympathetically. “Do you want to come with me?”

  “I’m in my own house, so it’s not exactly abandonment. You get a pass on this. Go.”

  “Will you talk to the grey suit guy? Please? At least find out if he has a criminal record.”

  “You’re not in the right frame of mind to be telling me what to do,” I responded with a laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “Go. Call me later.” She gave me a quick hug and headed out.

  As far as I could tell, I had two options: fake busyness on my phone yet again so I would appear important and full of purpose, or…hit up the food table. Naturally, empty calories always won me over.

  The spread was impressive – crudités, shrimp, an assortment of imported cheeses, and of course my dad’s contribution to the menu: mini pork sliders. He spent more time smoking meat than his cardiologist preferred.

  “You’re the prettiest girl in the room,” a voice from behind whispered into my ear. I turned around. “Don’t tell your mom I said that.”

  “Dad, come on. I already heard you give her the same compliment earlier. You can’t use that line more than once at the same party.” My father’s tan face made him appear somewhat more youthful than other men his age, but the grey in his beard did little to hide that he was in his mid-fifties. His smile was always warm and I appreciated how badly he wanted me to come to all of his get-togethers.

  “Where are all of your friends tonight?” He looked around, noticing I was standing solo.

  “Sophia couldn’t make it tonight, she’s with Lance’s family in Indiana for the weekend. Lexi was here, but she got an important call and had to leave. Garrett was originally supposed to come, but then like always, something came up… He always flakes on me. Hence why I’m eating my feelings, I guess.”

  “Loneliness is best served with goat cheese,” he replied sincerely, scooping some food onto a plate and handing it to me. “It has a fig glaze. It will change your entire perspective, and perhaps this night will end up more magical than you ever imagined.”

  “I feel like that’s pretty extreme,” I said with a laugh. “But I’m willing to try it. You’ve had worse ideas.”

  “Like that time I took you out for a fun daddy-daughter night, but instead of the rock concert I promised you, I misunderstood the title and it was actually a Mark Twain opera? Am I still unforgiven for that?”

  “It wasn’t your best effort.” I continued to giggle. At thirteen, the mistake felt like torture, but it was funny now.

  “It was called The Rockin’ River, how was I to know?” He laughed along with me. “You don’t have to stay, you know. You can go be twenty-three at some other party where people aren’t guzzling Manhattan’s with big plans to be in bed by ten p.m.”

  “I know, but this party is important to Mom.” I shrugged. “I know it means a lot to her when I come to these.”

  “You may earn yourself a set of jewelry from the auction for that,” he replied with a wink.

  “No jewelry dad, my crappy apartment doesn’t have a security system,” I stated earnestly as he strutted playfully away from me.

  “You’re not the boss of me,” he called over his shoulder with a laugh. “Don’t tell me how to live my life.”

  And – that pretty much summed up my parents. Genuine, kind people, with way too much money.

  “This goat cheese is amazeballs,” I said in awe as a suit arm reached down next to me to grab a plate. The stranger smirked and I froze. I realized in that moment it was the guy Lexi pointed out earlier. I suddenly regretted speaking aloud. My eyes locked on two green irises staring back at me through a black and white mask. Flawless hair. Grey suit. Expensive shoes. A smile so perfect I didn’t care about his motives. She was right - the look on his face was conflicting; I couldn’t tell if he came over to hit on me, or to discuss room temperature hors d’oeuvres.

  “Sorry, maybe that wasn’t an appropriate comment for a children’s charity,” I said sheepishly.

  “I think the cheese merits your verbiage,” he replied casually. “It’s nice to see another young person here. I didn’t expect the crowd to be so…”

  “Geriatric?” I cracked a smile as I finished his sentence, happy to see his lips curl as well. “What brings you to this extravagant party? Are you one of the doctors at the hospital, or just hoping to meet a wealthy divorcee with a penchant for a young man in a borrowed suit?”

  “What makes you think this isn’t my suit?”

  “The price tag ever-so-slightly sticking out of your cuff.”

  He immediately glanced down at his wrist, looking completely mortified. He paused, regained his composure, and then eyed me suspiciously. “Custom suits don’t have price tags.”

  “You’re right, there’s no tag. But you flinched when I said it, so clearly it’s not your suit.” I winked at him confidently, gave him a slight nod, and then brushed past him toward the back of the house.

  Maybe I was a terrible person. I mean, the poor guy was clearly trying to blend in – why on earth did I just embarrass him? There was no reason for it, other than my own disgruntled feelings over being abandoned tonight. Still no reason for me to be so cruel, but sometimes it just came out of me.

  I stopped before making it all the way to the back door. No wonder Garrett always blew me off. Maybe I was a terrible person. I spun around, heading back to the food table.

  “I’m sorry,” I said sincerely, watching as he reached for a glass of champagne. “I don’t know why I said that about your suit. I’m just having a bad night. I don’t know anything about you, so it was rude of me to even suggest it. Sometimes I just say exactly what I’m thinking, and…”

  “And you think being yourself is a character flaw?” He stared back at me with intense eyes. “If that’s who you are, you should never apologize for that.”

  “Well, I would also like to think I’m more eloquent and appropriate than that, especially at a function like this,” I explained. “I suppose I’m not apologizing for being a blunt person, but more so just sorry for the way I said it.”

  “Wow, that’s some brutal honesty and self-awareness,” he nodded. “That’s refreshing. That doesn’t seem to happen often.”

  “You’re not emasculated by masked women on a daily basis?” I smiled, trying to keep the mood light.

  “No, but most of my initial conversations with women also don’t start out with the word ‘amazeballs,’ so I’d say this is a unique overall encounter. Definitely not the way I usually meet someone for the first time. Typically they wait until I forget to call before totally insulting me.”

  “I think I’m giving up on normal social graces,” I stated with a shrug. “I’m giving up on normal. I’m burnt out. It’s always the same song and dance, and I just feel…tired. I’m sick of always following the rules. Why can’t I just be passionate about goat cheese and insult a man’s suit and move on with my life?”

  “You can. You did, actually. Yet you came back. Perhaps you’re more of a rule follower than you think?”

  “I think those are just called manners.” I cracked a smile. “I blame my parents for that, amongst other things. I guess I couldn’t leave like that. That’s not how this is supposed to go.”

  “No? Explain it to me,” he said suggestively.

  “You know how this works. We’ve both been through it before, right? I catch your eye, and then I’m supposed to ask your name, where you’re from, what your lifelong aspirations are… Then in turn you’re suppos
ed to find me interesting, and then ask me to dinner.”

  “Yeah? What happens from there?”

  “I accept, of course, because I actually am a polite person despite how we started off. The dinner is likely more romantic than I expected, rendering me hooked and helpless.”

  “Then what?”

  “Then we date 1.5 years, eventually falling apart in an overly dramatic fashion. Everyone close to us sees it coming for miles, but of course we somehow missed our demise until the last possible moment… Neither of us is the person we first fell for, we fight over who gets to keep the dog, and then we go on about our merry way, appropriately asking the name and lifelong aspirations of the next person we meet at a cocktail party…”

  “You are a handful,” he said with a laugh. “Is that really how this is supposed to go? That sounds terribly boring and cliché. I don’t do cliché.”

  “And I don’t do boring,” I mused. “So this will never work.”

  “Then I propose you definitely don’t ask me who I am or where I’m from. And truth be told, I have no incredible aspirations in life to impress you with. I kind of want to just live on a boat and be a drifter. Nothing stable, that’s for sure. Also, full disclosure, I’m not all that into romantic dinners because they’re dim and quiet which freaks me out, so maybe you wouldn’t be hooked after all.”

  I grinned back at him, and he kept talking.

  “Oh, and there’s also the fact that I’m a cat guy, so you would be keeping the dog without a fight. There goes that theory too. So really, it doesn’t seem like we would even have much to settle if this goes anywhere beyond this conversation.”

  “Right.” I nodded. He had a point. Not to mention the last thing I needed was another guy to worry about returning my texts. I already had three-day-Garrett – I didn’t need some other loser to obsess over not calling me back. “Well, it was nice meeting you,” I said politely. “Enjoy the party.”

  He nodded at me and I walked past him, finally making my way out back to sit out on the patio. I slid off my mask, and the fresh air felt good on my face, though it was much colder out than I expected. I set my mask down on the steps and rubbed my arms, not wanting to head back in just yet. A Michigan sunset was just what I needed. Then I would be ready to head back in, finish out the stuffy party, and then hopefully meet up with some friends at a bar downtown. The scene in front of me was one of my favorites: the rhythmic blue water rolling up onto the sand, then back out again. The water stretched out as far as I could see.