Chapter 4

The sun was a white-hot coin directly overhead, bleaching the sky to a pale blue. Noon at the estate. The pool stretched like turquoise glass, surrounded by loungers and half-empty champagne flutes. I was lying on my stomach, the heat soaking into my skin, the thin strings of my black bikini digging into my shoulders. Around me, the bridesmaids chattered. Rachel told a story about a stripper at her cousin's party. Mia refilled her mimosa. I nodded and smiled, but my mind circled him all morning like a moth around a flame. "Earth to Jules." Rachel's voice cut through. "You're burning. Want sunscreen?" "Thanks." I sat up, reaching for the bottle—and that's when I saw him. He was walking across the lawn, a glass of something amber in his hand, his stride unhurried. Cream linen pants. A crisp white shirt, top buttons undone, sleeves rolled to his elbows. Sunglasses hid his eyes, but I felt the weight of his attention land on me like a physical pressure, stealing my breath. My father. Arthur Vance. Looking like he owned every inch of this estate. He stopped at the edge of the patio, under a striped umbrella, and lowered himself into a