Had it been a trick of the light, or was she wearing the ring? Hoping she wouldn’t wake up and catch me lurking over her in bed like a stalker, I moved closer, my stomach muscles tight.
Sure enough, my grandmother’s engagement ring was back on her finger. She must have put it on after I left the room. My heartbeat quickened. Did that mean she didn’t hate me? That she still cared? That she might be willing to listen to me?
But what the hell would I say?
If I trusted myself to find the right words, I might have crawled into bed with her. Put my arms around her. Stopped her protests with a kiss.
But I didn’t.
In the end, I backed out of the room and shut the door behind me, retreating downstairs again to face my night of purgatory on the couch.
* * *
I must have fallen asleep at some point because it was light when my dad woke me, sunlight streaming through the windows. “Something wrong with your bed?” he asked.
Opening my eyes, I saw him standing over me dressed in his golf clothes, glass of orange juice in his hand. I groaned as I sat up, my back stiff and my neck sore. “Uh, I gave it to Chloe. She felt funny staying in the same room.”
He nodded, apparently satisfied with the explanation. “We’re heading out in about half an hour for golf. Are you joining us?”
“Maybe.” I turned my head to the right and left, trying to ease some of the tension. “Is Uncle John still going?”
“Yes. Why wouldn’t he?”
“No reason.” Actually, the reason was that I wondered if Chloe had convinced her parents to go back home to Cloverleigh first thing this morning. “Let me check with Chloe, see what she wants to do today.”
I went upstairs to find my bedroom empty, the bed made, her bag packed.
My heart sank.
But when I looked at the dresser, the ring wasn’t there. Somehow, it gave me hope, even though I knew she was probably only wearing it to keep up appearances until she could leave.
I took a quick shower, changed into clothing appropriate for golf, and went down to the kitchen, wondering what she was going to say to me.
The kitchen was empty, but I heard voices coming from the patio. I poured a cup of coffee and followed the sound.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” called my mother. She, Aunt Nell and Chloe were sitting at the table under the umbrella, cups of coffee, and plates of fruit and muffins in front of them. I noticed Chloe hadn’t touched her breakfast. She’d hardly eaten a thing at dinner last night either. Guilt sat heavily on my shoulders.
“Morning, everyone.” I tested the waters by taking the seat next to her, but she didn’t protest.
“Are you golfing with the boys today?” my mother asked.
“I thought I might. If it’s okay with you,” I said to Chloe.
“It’s fine,” she said stiffly, barely giving me a glance. She wore sunglasses, so I couldn’t see her eyes.
“Okay, then I guess I will.” I took a sip of my coffee. “What will you ladies do today?”
“Oh, don’t worry about us.” My mother waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “We’ve got plenty of talking to do about the wedding, and we might wander into town, do some shopping. Later, we might spend some time in the pool. It’s going to be a beautiful day.”
“Sounds like fun.” I attempted to smile, but the icy silence on my right was discouraging. Maybe it meant nothing that she’d put the ring on again last night.
When she excused herself from the table only a few minutes after I sat down, I got up and followed her, leaving my coffee on the table.
She didn’t say anything until we reached the kitchen, which was empty. “What do you want, Oliver?”
“To talk to you.”
She dumped her uneaten breakfast in the trash and set her plate in the sink. “About what?”
“About everything.” But now that we were alone, I didn’t know what to say. “How did you sleep?”
“Fine.” She turned around and leaned back against the counter, pushing her sunglasses to the top of her head. “You?”
“Shitty.”
“Where did you end up?”
“On the couch in the library.”
She nodded, crossing her arms over her chest. She wore shorts that showed off her tan, muscular legs, and my entire body ached, thinking that I’d never be close to her warm, bare skin again. “You can have the bed tonight. I’m hoping to convince my parents to leave before dinner.”
“Chloe, don’t go.” I moved toward her and thought she’d duck away, but she didn’t. I put my hands on her shoulders. “I’m sorry. I want to work this out. I know what I did was wrong, but the important thing was to get the money.”
She shook her head. “Are you even listening to yourself? This is how you blew your money the first time, Oliver. You can’t go through life only thinking about short-term gratification. Your decisions have consequences. They hurt people, and this plan to trick everyone you love is cruel.”
“This wouldn’t have hurt anybody. People break up all the time. It’s not like it was a real relationship.” I realized what I’d said and frowned. “I mean, it wasn’t supposed to be.”
A tear slipped down her cheek. “Nothing changes. You’re still the same old Oliver.”
“No! Look, I’m sorry I wasn’t up front with you. I’m sorry I withheld the full truth. I’m sorry I don’t do everything right the first time.” I paused. “Or the second time. But I’m not perfect, Chloe—I just wanted to build something of my own. I wanted to grow something, create something. And I wanted to do it with you. I still do.”
“It’s too late,” she said, wiping her eyes. “It’s too late.” Then she pushed me away, and rushed from the room.
Exhaling, I braced my hands on the edge of the counter and hung my head.
It was hopeless.
I’d lost it all.
* * *
I decided against golfing with the rest of the guys. There was no way I’d be able to enjoy it, and I didn’t have the energy or the desire to pretend. Despite what Chloe thought of me, I wasn’t that good an actor. Instead, I told my father I wanted to take the boat out and drove down to the marina without saying a word to anyone else.
Last night, I’d spent hours going over the past, revisiting all my mistakes. Out on the water today, I thought about my future. What I really wanted. Where I’d end up. How I would get there.
As a kid, I had imagined myself with a life exactly like every other adult man I knew—a life as a husband, a father, a career Pemberton man with a corner office and a closet full of Brooks Brothers suits. But when it came time to choose those things, I hadn’t chosen them. Somehow deep down, I’d never wanted to go down that path.
Not that there was anything wrong with it. My parents were happy. My brother and sister were happy. I still saw myself as a father someday. But I’d always been convinced there was something more.
The weekend Chloe and I spent in my Chicago hotel room, I’d felt certain I’d found it, and maybe I had. It choked me up a little thinking that I’d been right back then, but too scared to go after it.
Because what if I’d failed? What if I wasn’t the man she thought I was? What if I wasn’t destined for great things or worthy of a girl like Chloe, or deserving of a life out of the ordinary?
I’d never felt so much self-doubt before, so I’d run from it, and from her. Then I’d been so ashamed of myself, I’d stayed away. I saw my engagement to Alison as a sort of punishment—I’d blown my chance with the girl I really wanted, so I should be forced to endure a lifetime with someone I couldn’t stand, right?
Even now, when I looked back at my grand scheme to get the rest of my trust, I could see the ways that shame and self-doubt had fueled my behavior. I was too proud to go to my father, admit my mistakes, and ask for a loan. I was too worried about looking foolish compared to my brother. I was too concerned with what everyone else would think of a guy like me—a guy who’d been handed ever
y single advantage in life and still managed to fuck it up.
Looking ahead, I had no idea what would happen. I supposed I’d have to cover for myself once Chloe left, find some way to explain the breakup to my family, and look for another way to raise the money to buy the land, expand Brown Eyed Girl, and craft a heritage rye.
But it all seemed pointless without her. I hardly cared anymore. It made me wonder if all along what had been driving me to chase this dream was the desire to be with her rather than money or accolades or pride.
Maybe the dream had always been her.
23
Chloe
NOW
I spent the day with my mother and Aunt Nell, although I can’t say I enjoyed it. All they wanted to talk about was Oliver and me, how cute it was that we’d finally fallen in love, how right they’d been all along about what a good match we’d make, what good secret-keepers we were to have hidden our relationship so well. They spoke of wedding dresses and bridal showers and guest lists. Music and food and flowers. Invitations and photography and memories of their own weddings, at which they’d stood up for one another as maids of honor.
It was agony.
All I could think was that I’d never have any of those things.
Worst of all, my mother refused to consider leaving early.
“But we’re always so busy this week of July,” I’d protested. “Is it really fair to leave April and Frannie with such a big burden?”
“It’s fine,” she said, patting my shoulder as we window-shopped. “I just spoke to April this morning, and she said all was well.”
“You didn’t say anything about the engagement, did you?” I asked.
She sighed. “No, but it was very difficult. You’re going to tell them when we get home, right? I don’t know how long I can keep such a juicy secret.”
I nodded, feeling sick to my stomach again. “Sure.”
When we got home, my mother and Aunt Nell decided to sit around the pool with Charlotte, Lisa, and the boys, but I said I was feeling tired and wanted to lie down.
“You’ve been awfully tired over the last twenty-four hours,” my mother remarked as she tucked a few things into her pool bag. “You’re looking a bit pale too. And you haven’t eaten much either.” She looked up, her expression a mix of excitement and alarm. “Are you pregnant?”
Rolling my eyes, I leaned against the door frame of her room. “I’m not pregnant, Mom. I’m just tired. It’s been a crazy week.”
She didn’t look entirely convinced, and I could only imagine that she and Aunt Nell would sit around the pool naming their future grandchildren. But she left me alone and went out to the pool, and I went to my room by myself.
The first thing I did was remove the ring and place it on the dresser. My throat closed up, but I left it lying there and curled up on the bed. I’d only been resting there a few minutes when I heard a knock on the door.
Oliver.
I sat up quickly. “Yes?”
The door opened slowly, and Gran stood there. “Hello, dear.”
“Oh. Hello.” I was surprised at the disappointment I felt. I should have been glad Oliver had given up on me and taken off to go sailing alone, right?
“May I come in?” Gran asked.
“Sure.”
Using her cane, she ambled into the room and moved toward the only chair, which was next to the dresser. Right away, I realized she’d see the ring on the otherwise bare dresser top.
Sure enough, she paused a moment to look at it before lowering herself into the floral-upholstered chair. “And where’s our Oliver today?”
“I’m not sure.” I fidgeted with my empty ring finger. “I think he was going to go sailing.”
A strange silence followed. I had no idea what to say.
Gran was studying me with shrewd eyes. “You don’t want to marry our Oliver, do you?”
I thought about lying. In fact, I opened my mouth to do it. But I couldn’t. Instead I shook my head, feeling shame paint my cheeks.
She nodded as if she’d known. “But you love him.”
Again, I thought of giving a false answer, but I didn’t. “Yes,” I said quietly, looking down at my hands. “I can’t help it.”
“Even after what he’s done?”
I looked up at her in surprise. “What he’s done?”
“Oh my dear, you don’t survive to be ninety without becoming a pretty good judge of character. And Oliver isn’t quite the actor he thinks he is.”
“Well, he fooled me,” I admitted. “I thought he really cared about me, but all he really wanted was the money.”
“I’m not sure that’s true,” she said. “In fact, I’m fairly certain he does care for you, even more than he knows.” She paused to sigh. “Which is why I didn’t think he’d go through with that silly proposal last night. I thought by pressuring him to do it so quickly, he’d buckle and tell me the truth.”
“Oliver has a tricky relationship with the truth,” I said bitterly. “He only embraces it when it suits him.”
“You’re right about that.”
“And he’s gotten away with it his whole life!”
“We can blame his mother for that,” Gran said drily. “I love my daughter, but Jiminy Cricket, she spoiled him rotten.”
I had to laugh a little. “She did.”
“And he’s got more charm than any one man should be allowed to have.”
“Agreed,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t know what it is about him, but he gets to me every time. Even when I know he’s not playing by the rules, I—”
“Can’t help wanting to play along?” Gran winked at me. “I know just what you mean. I was married to a charmer too. What they need is a good, strong woman to keep them in line.”
I nodded. “Exactly.”
“You know, everyone thinks I’m old-fashioned and stubborn about tradition, and maybe I am, but I’m a feminist in my own way. And I think you’re right to tell Oliver to go to the devil. How dare he assume he could prop you up as his fiancée and fool me in the process?” She clucked her tongue. “What a donkey’s ass.”
The curse word made me laugh. “I agree.”
“The question is,” she went on, “what are we going to do with him? Do you think this scheme of his with the Russian rye is malarkey or the real deal?”
“I think it’s the real deal,” I said honestly. “He’s onto something.”
“So you think I should give him the money?”
I blinked at her. Was she really asking me if she should give Oliver a million dollars? “I’m not sure I’m qualified to give that answer.”
“Sure you are. Be confident. Trust your gut. If it was your money, would you buy that land?”
“Yes. I would. Oliver has done the research. He’s got talent and experience, and he knows the market. He’s made mistakes in the past,” I hedged, not wanting to say too much.
She waved a hand. “Oh, I know all about the way he burned through his money in Europe, the damn fool.”
“You do?”
She tapped her head. “Ninety. Remember?”
I laughed. “Right. Well, like I said, he’s made mistakes, and this whole fake engagement thing is the worst idea he ever had, but he knows what he’s doing. If he could get that land, he’d achieve everything he wants to, I have no doubt.”
“With or without you?”
I thought for a moment. “I don’t know. When he approached me about partnering with him, he made me feel like he needed me, but … I have no idea if he meant what he said.”
“Oh, I think he did. I heard the way he went on about you last night. And I saw the way he looked at you. That wasn’t acting. But let me ask you this.” Gran regarded me thoughtfully. “If he had the money to buy the land, would you still partner with him?”
My eyes filled, and I shook my head. “I don’t think so,” I said, my throat catching.
“Because you can’t trust him?”
“That, and … because I
love him,” I whispered, unable to speak.
She nodded once. “Well, you’ve given me a lot to think about. I’ll leave you now and take my siesta as well.” She rose to her feet with such ease that I almost wondered if the cane was for show.
Gran was one sharp cookie.
At the door, she turned around. “You’ll be at dinner tonight?”
“Yes. I wanted to leave today, but my mother refused. She doesn’t know …” I trailed off.
“What’s the plan for that?” she asked.
“I told Oliver I’d keep up the act while we were here, but that he had to come clean to you all once I’d left.”
“Awfully generous of you. More generous than he deserves.”
I lifted my shoulders, feeling my throat tighten again.
“I know,” she sighed. “He’s a donkey’s ass, but he’s the donkey’s ass you love. I’ll see you this evening.”
She pulled the door shut behind her, and I was alone again.
I lay back, but I was restless and fidgety, my thoughts a jumbled mess and my feelings even more tangled up. Finally, I gave up, dug my phone from my purse, and called April.
“Hey, Chloe,” she said when she answered.
“Hey. You busy?”
“Not too bad. We’re in sort of that afternoon lull. What’s up?”
I groaned and flopped onto my back. “I don’t even know where to start.”
She laughed. “Beginning?”
“That’s too far back—like the day I was born. It’s fucking Oliver.”
As quickly as I could, I got her up to speed on the last couple days, sparing no details. By the time I finished, I imagined her on the floor at the reception desk, open-mouthed in shock.
“Oh my God,” she said when I’d finished telling her about the conversation with Gran. “I can’t believe she knew he was faking it. And she still gave him the ring!”
“I know.” I sat up and looked at it on the dresser, sort of surprised she hadn’t taken it when she left. “I guess I have to keep wearing it too. At least for one more night. It just feels so wrong.”
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