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“Mega.”

Kento had brought them to the island on his own boat. Erin wondered how that came about. Unless things had changed, it wasn’t like him to go for the gold digger types. In fact, that was what she had always suspected was one of the things that drove him away years ago, this elite Seattle crowd’s obsession with money and success. Back then, just like Harris more recently, Kento had disappeared. She hadn’t known why, but he’d vanished just the same, leaving Erin abandoned. Decidedly different was that Harris leaving didn’t matter to her all that much. Kento’s departure had been another thing entirely. One that, in fact, had altered her life.

As to the bridesmaids, back in the day Kento had loathed people like Amber and MacKenzie, judging men based on their bank accounts or status. Although what would Erin know about Kento’s likes and dislikes anymore? She hadn’t seen him since he’d gone from a have-not to a most definite have.

“Is he single?”

“Doesn’t he live in Japan?”

“Was he born in Seattle?”

“Does he know Harris broke up with Erin?”

“He didn’t have a date with him on the boat.”

“Is he bringing someone to the wedding?”

“Look him up online.”

“Whoosh.” One of the guys finally put the kibosh on the gossip. Erin almost let out a chuckle, so laser-focused were these big-haired opportunists. “All I said was that he used to date Erin. I have no further intelligence. Shall we call in the FBI?”

If the two bridesmaids rode across the Sound with Kento, that meant he was already on the property. A pulse dashed through Erin’s body at the thought. She glanced behind her as if she might see him suddenly standing right there, eavesdropping on her eavesdropping.

Instead, when she turned around she saw Bettina “Bunny” Marchand Barclay, her mother, coming toward her. Bunny Barclay was probably Seattle’s most visible socialite, constantly appearing in the news at a gala fundraiser for a new museum or a mayor’s luncheon or the like. Upper crust to a fault, Bunny wore pearls to breakfast. The Barclay fortune belonged to Erin’s father, Ingram, the fifth generation of land and property owners who were in possession of a good percentage of Washington state. Her father wouldn’t be in attendance for the wedding weekend, as he had important business in Walla Walla.

“You look absolutely gaunt,” Bunny trilled as she air-kissed her daughter on each cheek. “I hope there’s a makeup artist coming, and immediately.”

Erin wasn’t aware that she didn’t look right. She’d scarcely checked a mirror today. Since Harris had fled three weeks ago, the days had been a blur spent mostly in the gloomy and overdecorated Spokane town house that she’d never liked, anyway. After Harris’s departure, her parents had decided that Erin would move back into their palatial home in Seattle, with the intention of finding her a suitable husband, of course. Because breeding was to be Erin’s most important purpose in life. After several disappointments, they’d thought they’d made a perfect match in Harris. How wrong they were. Hair and makeup had been the last thing on Erin’s mind lately.

Having already checked into her room, she was certainly planning to shower, dress and groom appropriately for the welcome dinner later that would kick off the wedding festivities. It quickly crossed her mind that she hoped Kento wouldn’t be coming down to the lounge now for the afternoon snack, not wanting to see him until after she’d pulled herself together. Not that it should matter, as it was far too late for anything between the two of them. He’d made that abundantly clear when he deserted her without even saying goodbye. Kento, a few others that never developed, then Harris, the aging party boy. Was there anyone on earth who had worse luck with men than she did?

“Erin,” Bunny continued, “there are a number of eligible men coming to the wedding I want you to meet.”

“It’s only been three weeks since Harris left me.” Erin sized her mother up like she was crazy. “Isn’t a mourning period in order?”

“You do not tell people that Harris left you. You say that you found you weren’t compatible.”

“Mother, do you remember that I mentioned to you a 1902 property in Queen Anne I saw? Now that I’m going to be moving back to Seattle, I’d like to look at buying that for the company.”

“You know we have an acquisitions department to handle new purchases. Let’s concentrate on finding you a proper match so that the next generation of Barclays is insured.”

“That’s my purpose in life? I’m just a pedigreed racehorse?”

Erin didn’t hide her cynicism. Really, though, what difference did it make? Let her parents choose a mate for her, sure. Her own attempts had ended with love jetting five thousand miles across the Pacific Ocean to build a future that didn’t include her.

“And no, at your age we don’t waste time licking our wounds.”

“Yes, at twenty-eight, I’m an ancient sack of bones.”

“The clock is ticking. Let me tell you about someone. Humphrey Colder.”

“Kento Yamamoto is here, Mother. Now that he has money, maybe you’d like him better.” The words fell out of Erin’s mouth before she had a chance to censor herself. He’d devastated her by leaving, but he didn’t deserve to be part of a sarcastic joke. Yet she’d always had a suspicion that her parents had had something to do with Kento walking out of her life.

Bunny bristled. Her small mouth pursed. “We deal in traditional wealth, Erin. Established families from the Northwest. Landowners. Not fly-by-night tech billionaires. The Kento Yamamotos of the world aren’t our kind of people. They never were and they never will be. Have I made myself clear on that?”

You’re not the one who should have been spending your life with him, Erin thought but didn’t bother to say, as it was a lost cause.

* * *


Tags: Rachael Stewart Billionaire Romance