Final Offer (Dreamland Billionaires, 3)

Lana has been acting strange. Ever since we returned from Rowan and Zahra’s place, she has kept quiet. Before I had a chance to ask her what she thought about the night, she disappeared into Cami’s room, claiming she needed to get her ready for bed.

By the time I come out of the shower, the door to her room is locked with no answer when I knock.

She is probably still in the shower.

I take a seat on the couch and pull up Candy Crush. My highest score was quickly beaten by the same little git across the world who scored the top spot by a measly three points.

I’m not sure how long I play for. Lana doesn’t ever open her door, so I lose track of time. I only quit once my eyes start to get heavy.

I rise from my spot on the couch and knock on Lana’s door again.

“Lana.” My knuckles tap against the wood.

No answer.

I press my ear against the door but still can’t hear anything.

Rather than wait around, I go to my room and text her.

Everything okay? You didn’t answer when I knocked.

My text goes unanswered, too. Either Lana fell asleep the moment she put her head on the pillow or she is avoiding me. While the first option is highly plausible, especially after the long day we had, I can’t help considering the second.

I sift through the memories of the night. From my point of view, it seemed like she had a great night. Lana got along well with Zahra and Iris, and she held her own when going up against Declan. She even got that special glint in her eyes that I love when Rowan tried to buy out her recipe for a million dollars.

I don’t think anything went wrong. Yet I can’t seem to shake the nagging sensation in the back of my head.

I text Iris individually.

Hey.

Time goes by painfully slow as I wait for her to answer.

Hey. What’s up?

Did anything seem off about Alana after dinner?

The dots appear and disappear twice before a message pops up.

I’m not sure. Ask me tomorrow when I’m sober.

I throw a pillow over my face and groan. Although Iris won’t be much help tonight, I plan on hounding her for answers once she is coherent enough to remember what happened.

Sleep evades me no matter how long I lie on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as I comb through everything that happened tonight for a second time. Despite considering every little detail, I can’t think of anything that might have upset Lana. My family was on their best behavior—a shocker in itself—so I’m not sure what could have gone wrong.

Just ask her in the morning.

It’s the last thought I have before my eyes slide shut and my breathing evens out.

“Hey.” I kiss the top of Lana’s head. She doesn’t lean in to me like she usually does, which only adds to my growing evidence that something is wrong.

I already texted Iris early this morning, but she hasn’t answered yet. Knowing my sister-in-law and the headache she gets after drinking too much wine, it might be a little while.

“Hi.” Her gaze flickers from her food to my face before turning back to her plate.

I take a seat next to her and wrap my arm around the back of her chair. Lana is careful to keep from touching me.

“Everything okay?” I twirl a piece of her hair around my finger.

“Just tired.” She takes a long sip of her coffee.

“You went to bed early.”

“I had a headache.” Her lips thin.

“Are you feeling better this morning? We can always skip the waterpark today if you’re not.”

“I’m not going to let Cami down no matter how shitty I feel.” Something passes across her face, but it fades away quickly as she returns to her empty expression that makes the acid roll in my stomach.

“Do you want me to get you some medicine?”

“Sometimes the best cure is time.” She looks away in a poor attempt to hide the tic in her jaw.

“Ready!” Cami comes out wearing a bathing suit and a cover-up skirt that resembles a mermaid tail.

Lana places her cup on the table and stands. “Perfect. Let me help you with your hair.”

“Can you do a braid crown? Pretty please?”

“Sure.” She walks around the table, leaving me behind.

Compared to the icy interaction with me, Lana is nothing but warm to her daughter. The tightness in my chest intensifies until I’m subconsciously rubbing at the spot over my heart with a frown.

The silence surrounding me adds to the weight pressing against my chest. After spending weeks around Cami and Lana, eating meals alone seems unbearable.

I take a deep breath and fight the temptation to drink as I pull out my phone and text Iris again.

Alana is acting weird and I don’t know why.

I think something happened at dinner. Did Declan pull her aside when I was in the bathroom or something?

I sit with bated breath, waiting for a text that never comes.

She is probably still sleeping.

Instead of stewing in the quiet, obsessing over why Lana is upset, I eat breakfast and get ready for a day at the Dreamland waterpark.

By the time I am tying the string of my swim trunks, Cami bolts into my room.

“Let’s go!”

I grab my shirt off the bed and follow her out of the room.

Lana is dressed in a white dress that brings out the warm tones in her tan skin, and her wavy hair is pulled back in an intricate braid.

I pause midstep, with my shirt hanging in my hand as I check her out.

“You look beautiful,” I rasp.

Her gaze drops to my body for only a second before she turns away and busies herself with searching for something in her purse.

No response. No acknowledgment. No anything but cold, desolate silence eating away at the calmness I feel in her proximity.

The stomach-churning sensation from earlier returns, accompanied with a sick sense of dread.

Cami grabs my hand with a huge smile. “Ready?”

At least whatever Lana is feeling hasn’t affected Cami, which gives me a little hope. Because if I didn’t do anything to affect my relationship with the little kid, then whatever happened was specific to Lana.

If only I knew what.

Since my phone is kept away in a locker the whole day, I don’t have a chance to check Iris’s messages until we are done with the waterpark. While Lana is busy in the bathroom helping Cami change into a dry pair of clothes, I read the text Iris sent.

Hmm. Everything seemed fine. And no, Declan didn’t speak to her, although I’m sure Alana would have been fine with that.

You don’t remember her seeming off?

Her message comes a lot faster this time.

I’m just getting to know her, so I don’t think so. Why?

I wipe my face with frustration, muffling my groan.

She has barely spoken to me today and locked me out of her room last night.

Did you do something?

No.

At least I don’t believe so. All I’ve done is try to make this week special.

Are you sure?

Yes. She seemed happy before and even during dinner.

Let me think…

I take a seat on a bench and drop my head into my hands while I wait for her reply.

After Alana grabbed the wine bottle out of the fridge, she seemed a little more quiet, but she mentioned having a headache, so I didn’t think too much of it.

She mentioned the same thing to me about the headache, but that wouldn’t explain her attitude today.

Anything off about the kitchen?

Besides a lingering smell of whatever Declan burnt coming from the trash? Nope.

My groan of frustration draws the attention of a few people.

Why don’t you ask her?

I wanted to have all the facts before I tried again.

Keep me posted.

She adds a saluting emoji after her message.

If you don’t hear from me in 24 hours, call the cops.

You got it.

I attempt to speak to Lana privately twice after my text conversation with Iris, but she does an incredible job keeping busy with Cami, the parks, and everything else Dreamland has to offer. If she and Cami aren’t in the room, they are out visiting the different resorts and tourist areas. Lana doesn’t ice me out completely, but it feels as if she erected an impenetrable wall between us.

I succumb to drinking again to ease the anxious feelings festering inside me like an infection. It makes me feel like shit to depend on alcohol, but I don’t know how else to cope with the stress. It’s either that or corner her. And knowing Lana, she won’t respond well to that kind of confrontation.

By the time we are boarding the private jet, I still haven’t had a single opportunity to speak with her. My texts are ignored and my knocks on her door go unanswered, which only fuels my growing anxiety, and with it, more drinking.

My shoulders slump as I drop into the large seat across from the couch Cami loves. Unlike the last time, Cami leaves room for Lana to sit. The two of them spend the entire flight back to Michigan watching Dreamland movies and laughing together, although Lana’s smiles never quite reach her eyes. It’s the same smile she had plastered on her face the entire week. The one that makes my chest ache, knowing it is a watered-down version of her real smiles.

I vow in that moment to speak to Lana tonight, even if it means having to tie her down to get some answers.