“You own—” Miles squinted at the swirly, seashell-decorated banner that hung from the fence of the kid’s camp “—Under the Sea Entertainment?”
Haven nodded, and Miles saw a flash of seashells strung through her blond hair. “I was going to call it ‘Haven Kids Camps’ but that seemed a little too obvious.”
“I didn’t have you pegged as a businesswoman,” Miles admitted. After their one and only disastrous blind date he’d actually had her pegged as another rich kid, living off her parents’ success and money.
Haven’s answering shrug was just a little bit too casual, too uncaring. “Nobody ever does. But that’s what I am and I need to get back to work. So if you’ll excuse me—”
She didn’t wait for his approval or agreement, and she didn’t say goodbye. Instead, she walked away with long, confident strides—at least, as long as her fish tail would allow—and Miles watched her go, his gaze fixed on the sway of her ample hips as the sequins decorated them sparkled in the sun.
Suddenly, his enforced trip to La Isla Marina seemed an awful lot more interesting.
“Miles? Where the hell have you been?” His sister’s voice dragged Miles’s attention away from where Haven was surrounded by small children, all desperate to talk to her. But he could still hear Haven’s warm laugh, spiralling up into the sunny skies, as he turned away.
“You do remember that we’re here for a wedding, right?” Gray asked, tapping a high heel against the sandy path, her hands on her angular hips. “One that’s about to start any moment now?”
Right. The wedding. “Yes, Gray. I remember.”
Reluctantly, Miles followed his sister down the path towards where the chairs and other rigmarole had been set up, ready for the service. But he couldn’t help but cast a glance backwards to where Haven was spinning in circles, holding hands with three little girls, all wearing shimmering mermaids tails.
“Are you suddenly and absurdly broody or something?” Gray asked, and when Miles looked forward again he realised she was watching him. “Because I can’t figure out why else you’re watching little kids playing instead of furthering your career by networking with people that matter.”
Haven didn’t matter. He’d been sure of that after their date. And yet…
“You know Haven Hapsgood?”
Gray’s nose wrinkled up. “Vaguely. I mean, think we met once, but we’re not friends or anything. Why?”
“Liar. Wait!” She snapped her fingers. “Didn’t Marguerite set you up on a blind date with her once?”
Miles winced. “Yes.”
“That’s right!” Gray gave a high, tinkling laugh, and Miles couldn’t help but compare it to the warm, deep laugh Haven had given while playing with the kids. “You said it was the worst date—no, worst night—of your life. Ever.”
“I might have been a little hyperbolic.”
“You texted me from under the table and begged me to come and save you, even though I was in Europe at the time. You wanted me to get on an actual plane and save you from your date, it was that bad.”
“I might have been wrong,” Miles admitted.
“About the date?” Gray shook her head. “You were very clear at the time.”
“No,” Miles said. “About her.”
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