Beautiful Deep Read online

  Published by Velvet Pen Books

  Copyright © 2018 Jordyn White

  ISBN 978-1-945261-31-2

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. You must not circulate this book in any format. Thank you for respecting the work of the author.

  Cover Design: Sara Eirew

  Cover Photography: Lindee Robinson Photography

  Models: Lindsey Kenaan and Nick Roberts

  Table of Contents

  Copyright Page

  Beautiful Deep

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Epilogue

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  Beautiful Deep

  by Jordyn White

  Chapter 1

  Emma

  “Normally I would never consider hiring someone without speaking with their former employer,” Alice says. “But Rose has been with us a long time and I trust her judgment. Her recommendation got you in the door.”

  Rose barely knows me. She’s a casual friend of my roommates, and was kind enough to go on a limb for me when she heard about my situation.

  “I appreciate you giving me the chance,” I say.

  “Well, I haven’t offered you the job yet.”

  Right.

  We’re sitting in a small office on the ground floor of the famous Rivers Paradise Resort. The walls are concrete blocks painted light gray and covered in posters about food safety and employee rights. I’m in a hard metal chair, and the banquet manager, Alice, is in the tilt-back swivel chair behind the desk. The door is closed, but we’re just off the kitchen of one of the restaurants here, so the muffled sounds of a dozen employees prepping for the lunch rush punctuates the air.

  I’m wearing the only black slacks I own that don’t have some sort of food stain on them, and a crisp white, button-down shirt with sleeves that cuff at the wrist. I wanted to show her I can look the part. My hands are in my lap, perfectly still. I’m not one to fidget when I’m nervous, but my palms are moist enough that if she offers to shake my hand at the end of this, I’ll have to wipe them on my pants first.

  Alice looks at the application that’s sitting on her desk.

  “Rose tells me there was some sort of situation at...” Her finger lands lightly on a spot halfway down the paper. “Powerhouse Personal Chef. She says you have a good reason for not wanting us to contact them.”

  “Yes.”

  “Would you like to tell me about it?”

  “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

  Alice purses her lips, as if she expected that I’d bring her into my confidence about what happened at my last job. Not a chance.

  “It’s nothing that would affect my performance here,” I hurry to say. “I’m sure I would do a great job for you. I’m familiar with the logistics of preparing for large groups. Even though most of what we did at Powerhouse was for individuals, we catered events as well. I can do food preparation, service, cleanup. Anything you need.”

  Honest to god, anything.

  Alice leans back and laces her fingers over her stomach. She seems a no-nonsense sort of person. She has tidy, short brown hair and unpainted fingernails cut to the quick. When she led me to this office, she had the swift, purposeful steps of someone who’s used to people following her orders. “How long have you known Rose? You’ve only been in Swan Pointe a month, correct?”

  Well, shit. I can’t have her questioning the legitimacy of this recommendation, otherwise I may as well thank her for the interview and leave right now. But I’m so desperate for this job, I think I’d beg if it came to that. This is the closest I’ve come to finding work since everything happened almost a month ago. I can’t live off the kindness of friends forever. I need money. I need this.

  “Yes, I met her when I moved here, but she’s known my friend Aaron since he moved here nine months ago, and he vouched for me. He and I’ve been friends a long time. Several years.”

  Back when I was living a completely different life. When I was a completely different person.

  This answer seems to satisfy her, thank God. “About your reasons for leaving your last job, there are some questions I need to ask you.”

  “Okay.” I subtly rub my hands on my thighs, trying to get rid of the moisture on my palms that’s driving me crazy, then make them sit still again.

  “Was there theft involved?”

  I straighten slightly. “What? No. Nothing like that.”

  “Were you ever under the influence at work?”

  “No.”

  “Ever fail a drug test?”

  “No. I don’t use.”

  “Did you have issues with tardiness or attendance?”

  She seems intent on going down a list of possible infractions. I’m hoping she doesn’t guess what happened, because I’m not admitting to anything, but I don’t want to lie to her either.

  “No.”

  “Poor performance?”

  “No. My performance reviews were always positive. I was actually promoted ten months after I started there. I knew my job and I’m a hard worker.”

  She purses her lips slightly, narrowing her eyes and tilting her head a bit as she considers me. “Do you have trouble following the orders of your superiors?”

  Only when they tell me to get on my back or get out the door. “No.”

  “There were no insubordination issues?”

  The skin on the back of my neck tingles unpleasantly. How many more boss-related questions does she have? Because she’s sniffing a little too close to the target for my pleasure. “No. I don’t have a problem with authority.”

  She exhales sharply through her nose and looks at the ceiling, searching for other reasons she can guess at, apparently.

  “Did you violate company Internet policies?”

  “No.” I scoot to the edg
e of my seat and lean forward. “Look, I really need this job. What happened at Powerhouse was...” A train wreck. A disaster. The dumbest fucking thing I’ve ever done in my entire life, and I blame myself as much as my asshole boss. “...A misunderstanding. It won’t come back to haunt you here. I promise.”

  She puts one elbow on the arm of the chair and props her chin on her thumb, rubbing one finger slowly over her mouth as she considers me.

  Oh please let her hire me. Over the past year I’ve discovered I have more grit than I ever thought, but I don’t think I could hack it as a homeless person.

  “I know banquet work isn’t exactly the same as personal chef services, but I’m a quick learner. If you give me a chance, I promise I won’t let you down.”

  Holding my eyes firmly, she puts her elbows on the desk and leans in slightly. “I’m going to hold you to that.”

  I’m waiting at the end of the employee side of the underground parking garage when I hear the roaring of Pierce’s motorcycle. A minute later he comes into view and I start walking toward him. He’s a broad-shouldered guy, and with his black tee and “kiss my ass” expression, he looks the part of a tough-as-nails biker. You’d never know he’s a professional artist with a rooftop garden full of flowers he and his boyfriend tend together.

  “That was fast.” He brings the motorcycle to a stop. “I take it things went well?”

  I’m grinning. “I got the job.”

  He smiles. “We knew you’d find something sooner or later.”

  I appreciate the optimism that he and Aaron have had over the past month. They’ve had more faith in me than I’ve had in myself at times, that’s for sure.

  “Hopefully I’ll be able to get out of your hair soon.” They’ve been good about letting me crash on their couch ever since they rescued me from L.A. a month ago, but it has to be driving them crazy. It’s driving me crazy, anyway.

  “Eh, you’re fine.” His standard answer.

  “Thanks for the ride.” I grab the helmet from the back and put it on.

  “No problem. I needed a break anyway. My painting is pissing me off.” When Pierce isn’t busy stressing about the upcoming art show at the Swan Pointe Civic Center, he’s swearing at his current work in progress. His paintings always turn out great, but the wailing and gnashing of teeth seems to be part of his process.

  I climb on and hang onto his thick waist, then we make a tight U-turn and exit the parking garage. The Rivers Paradise Resort is situated on a bluff overlooking the Pacific Ocean, and is one of the dominating industries in this little tourist town. It’s one of the best places in Swan Pointe to work for, or so I’m told.

  I would’ve taken anything. Literally anything. But this is actually a pretty decent job, in an area that at least interests me.

  It’s something. More than something. Hell, they even offer health insurance.

  As we drive through the manicured grounds of this central California luxury haven, I look at the vast, sparkling expanse of water to my right and feel hopeful for the first time in a long time that I might actually be able to put my life back together.

  I just have to keep my head down, do my job, and not sleep with the boss. Shouldn’t be too hard.

  Chapter 2

  Rayce

  My younger brother Connor and I are on the main floor of the Swan Pointe Civic Center’s yearly Art Invitational, headed for the wine bar. Drinks first, art second. That’s our motto when we come to things like this together.

  Once in line, I do a quick scan of the room, making a mental note of the people I’ll need to network with while I’m here. The large, open space is lined with art panels, has several floating displays in the center, and of course tables of food. Every room has its own spread of hors d’oeuvres and desserts, not to mention a bar with local wines and brews.

  This event is one of our favorites. It’s one of the biggest art shows in California, takes up all three floors of the center, and draws artists nationwide. I almost always find something interesting to buy. We used to come here with our parents, back when they were still alive.

  It’s been a while since Connor and I have done something just the two of us. Now that he’s married, and my younger sister Lizzy is engaged, the three of us don’t do a lot without significant others these days. But Connor’s wife had a friend’s bachelorette party to attend tonight, so he and I came together.

  I was relieved not to need a date. While there are plenty woman I could’ve asked, there wasn’t anyone I was interested in sharing this particular evening with. Of course, there are always people wanting to rub shoulders at these events, and it doesn’t hurt to have a date on your arm in situations like that. But it’s just as effective to represent the resort alongside my brother, since he and Lizzy and I run things together now.

  Besides, I like hanging out with Connor. I’ve missed it.

  “I wonder if Lizzy and Brett are here yet?” he asks as we step forward in the line.

  “I’ll check.” I pull out my phone intending to send Lizzy a quick text. My email is open in the window, and I spot the subject line of that damned email I received this morning. A cold pit of dread drops through my stomach, same as when I first read it.

  This could be trouble for me, no question about it. Trouble for all of us, if it goes far enough.

  I close the app, text Lizzy, and we get our drinks. As we wander toward the first display, Connor remarking that there seem to be a lot of new artists here this year, I consider telling him about the situation. I almost told him when we were in the car on the way over, but ultimately decided against it.

  Even if we weren’t in public right now and at risk of being overheard, I’d probably make the same decision. It’s a dick move to keep this from him, but I’m already the asshole for getting myself into this mess to start with, so what’s the difference?

  I don’t want to worry him. That’s part of it. But I don’t want to admit what I’ve been hiding, either.

  He already knows some of it. Seven or eight months after Mom and Dad died, he found out about an affair I was having with one of our employees.

  It’s not something I’m proud of. Not to make excuses, but I didn’t handle Mom and Dad’s deaths too well. Aside from the shock of it all, my siblings and I were left to keep the resort running. Those first several months were so chaotic, I barely remember them. It was all we could do to keep Mom and Dad’s life’s work from crumbling to dust.

  And I blamed myself for all of it.

  I got a call from Mom that day. The day they died. She called from the boat, but I didn’t answer because I was busy with work. I figured I would call her later.

  Later never came.

  I spent the next seven months convinced that she had been calling for help. And me? I couldn’t be bothered to answer the phone.

  I couldn’t handle it, and didn’t have the luxury of trying to deal with something as inconvenient as my feelings anyway. I had to keep my family and our business together.

  I could’ve turned to alcohol. Or drugs. Instead, I indulged in self-destructive behavior of a different sort. I had a total of three affairs with lower-level employees, which is firmly against resort policies, not to mention the family code. The fact that it was wrong was part of the appeal. The riskier the location, the dirtier the sex, the cheaper the woman the better. It was the only escape I had from the red-hot guilt and agony constantly snapping at my heels. It was as addictive and destructive as anything else I could’ve decided to do.

  When Connor figured out what was going on, he managed to pull me out of it. He found my walls, took a sledgehammer to them, and broke me into a hundred little pieces. All in the space of five minutes.

  That was the beginning of climbing out of the dark place I let myself fall into, the beginning of the grieving process I’d tried so hard to escape, and the end of my affairs. I broke things off, promised Connor I would never put the resort at risk like that again, and have kept my nose clean since.

  I shoul
d’ve told him at the time that she wasn’t the only one. But I didn’t know how to admit that to my kid brother.

  Besides, I have no intention of repeating past mistakes. I can only hope that’s good enough and that they’re not going to come back and bite us all in the ass.

  I get a text from Lizzy informing me that she and Brett are at the food table on the first floor at the same time we come around the corner of a display and spot them grabbing their little plates and napkins.

  When she sees us, she sets them down and comes to greet us. She gets to Connor first, giving him a hug. I clap Brett on the shoulder in greeting while I wait my turn. I’m pleased to see he’s wearing a quality suit. Not that I think he wouldn’t, but he’ll be part of the Rivers family soon, and the face we show to the world matters, like it or not.

  “Good to see you,” he says with a smile.

  “You too.” I like Brett. Of course, sometimes people surprise you, but he seems to be a good guy and treating my sister well.

  He’d better, or he’d have me to deal with. I wouldn’t take kindly to anyone mistreating my sister.

  Lizzy comes over and gives me a hug. She’s warm and affectionate, my sister. So like our mother, though I don’t think she sees it.

  She looks like our mother too, more and more so as she gets older. Her long brown hair falls past her shoulders, the way Mom’s did. She resembles Mom, too, aside from her green eyes.

  Of course, as we’ve heard our entire lives, we all resemble one another. Lizzy teases us that the only reason people can tell Connor and I apart is because I’m the serious one and he’s the carefree one.

  She’s not far off the mark.

  I give her a kiss on the cheek before letting her go. “Been here long?”

  She retrieves her plate and napkin. “Fifteen minutes?” She looks to Brett for confirmation.

  He nods. “Something like that.”

  We make our way down the line, artfully stacking our items so as to allow room for a little bit of everything. The food at this event is always spectacular, and beautifully displayed with crystal vases full of flowers and luxurious linens draped over the various tiers they set up on the table. It’s a spread worthy of the Rivers Paradise Resort, actually.