All That Jazz (Butler Cove #1)(64)

My phone buzzes.



KA: So … I have news.



Yeah, well, so do I. I’m not ready to share it, though. I need to tell Mom first for one thing. I put my phone away without texting back. I’m relieved Keri Ann’s starting college this year. Typical that she would finally start the same year I graduated. But at least I don’t have to worry I’m leaving her behind or something. And I need to deal with Brandon. I head over to the upperclassmen dorms in Palmetto Village, hoping he’s back from Florida so we can talk. Alas, he’s not. I scribble a note and push it under the door. I guess I’ll have to do it over the phone.





MY NEWS FEELS like a land mine inside my chest, one stumble and it will explode out of me and I’ll blab to everyone who’ll listen. As soon as I get home, I call the placement liaison about booking my flights. She gives me a link to download the relocation brochure and my flight options.

In less than an hour my life has taken on an entirely new direction.

The rest of the day is a whirlwind of telling Mom who’s excited, but nervous for me, telling Faith at the boutique and swearing her to secrecy, and making lists. Lots and lots of color coded lists. What to pack, what has to happen before I leave, what I want to do there, shots I might need. Research about climate. Who am I kidding? I already researched the shit out of my potential location options. I fall into bed that night, exhausted again, and it’s only as I’m drifting off I realize I forgot to text Keri Ann back about her news. Though I’m pretty sure it’s about Jack Eversea. It’s still hard to believe the Hollywood actor I “fangirled” over for years came to Butler Cove last fall and had an affair with my best friend. The fact he’s back means my girl’s life is about to change.

I guess this is where our lives begin.





MY PHONE BUZZES at seven-thirty and I check it, bleary-eyed. It’s Keri Ann. Inviting me out on a boat with Jack and Devon. Color me there.

I shower and shave my legs, wash my hair, letting it air dry into its natural wave and pull on a white eyelet maxi dress over my bikini. Skimming my eyes with the least amount of makeup possible, I find my oversized sunglasses so I can ogle men’s bodies without getting caught and stuff my oversized beach towel and sunblock in my bag. Boat ready.

I slip out the sliding door of the bedroom and head to the marina office to wait for Keri Ann. There’s a cool morning breeze, but the sun is bright and sparkling across the water. Today’s going to be a scorcher. I’m almost to the jetty when I hear Keri Ann’s excited shout from the parking lot. I turn around, and she comes jogging along the wooden decking toward me dressed in short white jean cut offs and a pale blue halter top. She’s radiating happiness. I open my arms, and we hug madly. “So it’s on?” I whisper into her hair looking behind me to see Jack Eversea in loose jeans and a tight white t-shirt, a ball cap, and aviators striding toward us. “Jesus, he’s hot. Bitch.” I laugh. It’s still crazy to see him in real life. Jack’s friend and producer, Devon is walking down the dock too.

I pull back. “You forgiven Jack already?” I ask.

She nods. “It’s a long story, but yeah. And we’re taking it slow.”

“I bet Joey’s pleased,” I say, meaning the complete opposite.

“Right?” She rolls her eyes. “I need your help with him today.”

“Wait, he’s coming?” Shit. Shit. Double shit. Thank God I brought the big sunglasses.

Jack Eversea reaches us.

“Jack, you remember my friend, Jazz,” Keri Ann introduces us again. “And this is Devon.”

Devon has blond tips in his shaggy hair and large friendly brown eyes. I shake both their hands, a little star struck. But they’re, like, regular people who say good morning and shit. It’s weird. I immediately relax in their company. They head into the marina office.

I slide my glasses back over my face. “How do you not just say holy shit, it’s Jack Eversea every time you see him?” I smile.

“I do.” She laughs and I believe her.

Joseph is approaching, and I decide it’s a good time to look around at the boats and work out which one we’re going on. I can feel his approach, and I refuse to look his way. Mature, I know. I just need a few minutes to pull myself together. I feel like if I look at him, I’ll look at his hands and remember what they did a few nights ago. “Hey,” says Joey and I don’t know if he’s talking to me. “Let’s go inside and buy food,” he says.

I traipse behind them, giving myself a mental shake. Food, I can do.

In the marina shop, we peruse the offerings. I idly spin the postcard rack around, thinking of all the postcards I bought here to send my father over the years. I wonder where all those postcards ended up. The story of my childhood is scattered all over the world for anyone to read. After buying more snacks than it would take ten of us to consume over four days lost at sea, we head down to the boat.

“Wow,” exclaims Keri Ann when we see the yacht we’re approaching. “This one?”

“Dang,” I echo. “This sure beats tooling around in Cooper’s dirty old Carolina Skiff dropping crab traps.” I stop and step back. “This has to be, like, forty feet.”

I meet Keri Ann’s eyes over the top of both our sunglasses. Jack smiles like he’s happy he impressed us in our own backyard.