Change of Heart

by Jude Deveraux

  “Then what?” Jeff asked.

  “I’m going to get a house there and invite Chelsea to visit.”

  “The excitement is making my heart flutter.” He couldn’t remember which one was Chelsea.

  But it turned out that she wasn’t someone Jeff had met, and as the weeks passed, he decided to discover who she was. It took a lot of beers before Eli told him, but when he started talking, he wouldn’t stop.

  According to Eli, Chelsea was smart, clever, a daredevil, afraid of nothing, the best companion a person could have, etc. It took Jeff a while to realize that Eli hadn’t seen her since they were sixteen years old. He told Jeff how even though his mother had married a fabulously wealthy man, they’d stayed in the same neighborhood so Eli could still go to school with his beloved friend, Chelsea. He postponed college, but he didn’t mind. He said it was part of the “Great Compromise” his parents had settled on before they got married.

  Eli said it had been traumatic for both kids when, a few years later, her father said they were moving. The kids had promised to write each other every day.

  Eli told Jeff that that’s what he’d done, but a year later, his letters were returned with no forwarding address stamped on them. After that, he and Chelsea lost contact.

  By that time Eli was going to college and turning the computer world on its ear. Many companies had approached him about a job and had offered him money and luxuries. But then somebody from the US government showed up and said, “Would you like to work for us? We’ll pay you practically nothing and keep you so busy you won’t have time for a life. But then most of what you’ll be doing is Top Secret so you can’t share with anyone and that’s hard on every relationship. So how about it?”

  Jeff still couldn’t understand why Eli had said, “Yes! Love to do it. Where do I sign?”

  After the first five years of working for the government, Eli wrote a few software programs and some games for the real world—and that’s when he’d hired Jeff to help with everything outside of work and programming. Not that Jeff wasn’t handy with writing code himself, but he couldn’t compete with Eli. But then, when it came to brains, nobody could. However, even though the programs were 90 percent Eli, he still cut his assistant in for a share of what came to be huge profits.

  One time Jeff asked Eli why he’d hired him over the many other applicants. Jeff had hoped to hear that it was his magnetic personality or his speed on a database. But no. Eli said, “Because you look like me. Makes me feel comfortable.”

  That statement made Jeff laugh, for Eli was one good-looking man. Six feet two, dark hair, a body the Navy SEALs would envy, and rich. He was the whole package.

  Smiling, Eli had pulled a photo album from a bookcase and showed a picture of himself at fourteen. Yes, Eli had once been as thin as Jeff. But after years with the family his mother had married into, he had physically changed.

  Maybe it was because of a past physical resemblance, but they became friends as well as coworkers, and it was a shock to Jeff to hear about a girl who was so important to Eli. Maybe she was why Eli wasn’t interested in the beautiful girls who leaned over him and slipped their phone numbers into his pocket.

  The day after hearing Eli’s story, Jeff went online and found photos of Miss Chelsea Hamilton and was stunned. She was beautiful. Like have-a-fantasy beautiful. “Is this her? She’s a stunner.”

  “Yeah,” Eli said. “She’s always been pretty.”

  Jeff laughed at the understatement. A few days later, he began to search for houses for sale in Edilean, Virginia. By the time spring began to arrive, Eli owned a modest house on the outskirts of the little town, and they’d contacted Chelsea. She’d replied, saying she accepted.

  On the drive from the Edilean gym, Jeff kept glancing at Eli. He’d never seen him like this: nervous, excited, unable to concentrate on his work. Several times in the week they’d been here, Jeff had looked at the phone ID and said the caller was “General Weber” or “Agent Blackburn.” Or it was Eli’s secretary: “Pilar says it’s urgent.” Each time, Eli had waved his hand. “I’m busy. Call them and see what they want.”

  What they wanted was for Eli to return and do the work of five people—like he usually did. But all he seemed able to think about was the coming visit.

  “Did you get—” Eli asked.

  “Yes!” Jeff said before he could finish. “Whatever a person can eat or drink I’ve put it in the house.” But with another glance at his boss, pity took over. “Why don’t we stop at the grocery and have lunch? I’ll order while you sit and work on”—he glanced at Eli’s ever-present notebook—“whatever.” And after lunch, Jeff thought, he was going to leave his nervous boss at home and go into town to look around. He needed some time away from Eli’s skittishness. I hope she’s worth it! Jeff thought as he pulled into the parking lot.

  Chelsea stopped at the big grocery store just outside Edilean to get lunch—and to think. What she wanted to figure out was how to get out of seeing Eli.

  That she’d even accepted his invitation was all her mother’s fault. When it arrived, Chelsea had been at her parents’ home and using her mother’s big desk computer to check her email. If she’d just used her phone like normal, she wouldn’t have been caught.

  “You got an email from Eli?” her mother said as she looked over Chelsea’s shoulder. Her voice was nearly breathless with excitement. “Have you two been corresponding long? Have you seen him? Are you two dating? Is it serious?”

  Chelsea was sure her mother asked more questions but she didn’t listen. All she could think was, So now you find me? All these years of being apart and at last you find me? What happened to make you seek me out now? Some girl drop you? Or did the world run out of secrets for you to untangle?

  “Yeah, it’s him,” Chelsea said as she got up from the desk. “I guess. Who knows?”

  “May I?” her mother asked, but she was already in the chair and reading. “He has a home in Edilean, Virginia, and he’d like for you to visit him. How

  delightful!”

  Chelsea wanted to leave the room. She wanted to put her nose in the air, flip her long hair, and leave. But she didn’t. She plopped down on the sofa and picked up a magazine she’d already read and opened it. No matter how she tried to soothe herself about it, it still maddened her that her parents dismissed all she’d done in her life. Years of modeling, magazine covers, the people she’d met. What seemed to matter to them most was her childhood with Eli. “I can’t imagine why he’d ask me to visit him. If he wanted to see me, he could have shown up at my door.”

  “And which door would that be?” her mother said. “You move every six months.” She took a breath. “Eli was always shy and you’re the one who stopped writing him, remember?”

  “Yes, Mom, I do remember. But then, you’ve reminded me every day since I was what? Seventeen?”

  “Yes. But then, you stopped writing your best friend when you discovered big, strapping boys who could barely talk.” Her mother turned around to look at her daughter. Chelsea was home because she was hiding from her latest boyfriend—and she was in a bad mood because he hadn’t found her. “Are you going to go see Eli?”

  “Of course not.” Chelsea got up to go to the kitchen.

  Her mother was close on her heels. “I think you should go. Eli was always the nicest, most considerate boy I ever met. And you two had so much fun together.”

  “Mother, the things Eli and I did were illegal. Don’t look so shocked! It wasn’t like that. It was—” Chelsea put up her hand. “It doesn’t matter now. If Eli wanted to keep in touch, he would have.”

  Her mother, usually so sweet tempered, glared at her. “Yes, Eli failed your test. You dropped him and he didn’t pursue you. You played a little-girl game and lost the best friend you ever had. And now you’re losing him again. And for what? So you can sit around here and wait for another one of your brainless
boyfriends to find you? Is this one the Brazilian polo player?” She took a breath. “You’re my daughter but I’m beginning to think you don’t deserve a young man like Eli.” With that, she turned on her heel and left the room.

  Chelsea made a face at the doorway and said, “He’s Venezuelan, not Brazilian.” She picked up her phone and reread Eli’s email. It was very plain, just saying he’d purchased a house in Edilean and asking if she would please visit. That’s all. No dates, no mention of where she was to stay, nothing.

  But then, Eli wouldn’t think of those things. He was the genius; she was the practical one.

  The next few days were miserable! Chelsea’s mother hardly spoke to her and her dad looked at her with big, sad eyes. He too had liked Eli.

  Chelsea couldn’t take it. Her parents’ disapproval combined with the fact that no boyfriend came after her broke her. She’d thought this one was different, that she was seeing a future past looking good. She’d been involved in his business. She’d set up a website for him. She was the one who’d found out his accountant was embezzling from him. Didn’t any of that count? And the truth was, as exciting as her life was, it wasn’t fulfilling her. She wanted to do something, but she didn’t know what. “Okay!” she yelled at breakfast. “I’ll go!”

  Immediately, her father put down his newspaper and smiled at her, and her mother asked if she wanted blueberries in her pancakes.

  Chelsea had a whole day of being the best-loved daughter in the world, then the next day she awoke to see her mother in her bedroom packing a suitcase.

  “I think you should take this.” She held up a little black dress with a low neckline and spaghetti straps.

  “Mother, what are you doing? It’s six a.m.”

  “Your father and I thought you should get an early start. And we think you should drive so you’ll have your own car with you.” She opened the chest of drawers. “You should definitely take this.” She held up a black-and-red corset with matching panties.

  “Mother!” Chelsea said in shock. “I can choose my own clothes.”

  “Of course you can. Shall I make a lunch for you to take on the road? I bought Eli some of those sugared almonds he always liked so much. Remember how he used to eat them by the handful? It always puzzled me why that child was so thin. But now he’s all grown up so I’m sure he’s better.”

  “Mother,” Chelsea said as she threw back the covers.

  Her mother was at the door. “Don’t take too long to pack, dear. Your breakfast will get cold.”

  Chelsea knew when her welcome was over. After all, it had been her parents who’d listened and sympathized after every breakup she’d been through. No matter how many times she tried to explain to them that she was searching for . . . for . . . She didn’t know what, just that she’d know when she found it. But they never seemed to understand.

  She took two days to drive to Virginia, and being alone in her car gave her time to think. And what she tried to plan was how to get out of this meeting with her childhood friend but at the same time placate her parents.

  Never once did she consider that it might work between her and Eli, not as a friendship and certainly not as anything else. Too much time had passed and besides, they were two different people. It had worked when they were children because they were both outcasts, different from the other kids. But now . . .

  Now Eli was some kind of big-deal government genius—she’d met a general’s assistant who’d told her that—and she was . . . Well, she hadn’t yet decided what she was, but she liked adventure in her life. If they met now, they’d just sit around and stare at each other, with nothing to say. And of course Eli would look at her with those eyes that penetrated and want to know why she hadn’t continued to correspond with him. No matter what lie she made up, he would be hurt—and it would be her fault.

  So now she was sitting at a little table at the back of the grocery, sliced turkey and raw carrots before her, and an open map in her hand. She had on a floppy-brim hat that nearly covered her face and a trench coat that concealed the rest of her.

  She was about to take a bite when in walked a man who looked exactly like Eli had as a kid. He was the same height and his face was nearly the same.

  Smiling, she looked down at her plate and again wondered what Eli looked like now.

  “Eli!” she heard and looked up as the man stopped to look down an aisle. Not possible! she thought. This couldn’t actually be Eli! She put a menu in front of her face and looked around it.

  He’s happy, she thought, and was glad of it. As a child, before his mother remarried, he’d been quite morose—which was understandable considering his home situation.

  Chelsea watched him go to the deli counter. For all that he was very thin and looked like he could play Huckleberry Finn, there was a swagger in his walk that was kind of appealing. Maybe it was his adoptive father who’d done that.

  As Eli stood there waiting to give his order, he looked around the store. There was a pretty red-haired girl to one side, and he smiled at her in such an inviting way that Chelsea nearly giggled.

  When his wandering eyes got near Chelsea, she put the menu up in front of her face. He had changed! she thought. Maybe his looks were the same and he’d never be someone who’d set a woman on fire with lust, but he might be good company. The intensity of the young Eli that she’d been dreading seemed to be gone. Thank you, Frank and Miranda Taggert, she thought, and started to stand up. This was a man she could say hello to.

  But when a second man walked up to stand beside Eli, Chelsea sat back down.

  Hot! was all she could think. He was tall, towering over Eli, had longish dark hair, and a beautiful, chiseled face. He had on a black T-shirt that clung to a muscular, perfectly shaped body, then jeans that showed well-toned legs, down to a pair of heavy boots. Unfortunately, he—not skinny Eli—was the kind of man she always went after.

  Chelsea couldn’t help staring at the man in the black T-shirt. Who was he? Eli’s bodyguard?

  She watched Eli say something to the man, then he went to sit at a table, where he opened a leather notebook and began to write. He was two tables away from her, but the one separating them was empty. He really was one of the most beautiful men she’d ever seen.

  “Eli?” the skinny guy at the counter said. When there was no response, he said louder, “Eli!”

  The dark-haired man looked up.

  “Do you want mustard or mayo?” the thin one asked.

  “Mustard,” he said in a deep, rich voice, then went back to his notebook.

  Chelsea’s mouth dropped open. Eli? This gorgeous creature was Eli?

  When did he—? How did he—?

  She couldn’t collect her thoughts. Vaguely, she remembered that long ago Eli had told her how weird his new father’s relatives were. “They spend so many hours in a gym they look like draft horses.” The two of them had laughed in that way children do because they know everything.

  But it looked like somewhere along the way he had visited a gym. Often.

  When Chelsea stood up, she found that her knees were weak and her hands were shaking. She could hardly pick up her bag. She didn’t dare look around for fear one of the men would see her.

  Somehow, she managed to get out of the store. As soon as she was outside, she paused to take a few breaths. Coming toward her was a big man in a tan uniform and a leather jacket. There was a sheriff’s badge on his chest.

  “Excuse me,” she said and he stopped.

  “Welcome to Edilean and how can I help you?”

  She smiled at him, the flirty smile she’d learned to use when she wanted something from a man. But this man didn’t so much as react, just waited for her to continue. His badge said Colin Frazier. “I was wondering if you might know someone named Eli Harcourt.”

  “I do.” His voice was cautious.

  “I don’t mean to pry, b
ut I haven’t seen Eli since we were teenagers, and I just saw . . . Well . . .” She didn’t know how to ask without sounding like a stalker. Pulling her wallet out of her bag, she removed an old photo from the hidden compartment. It was of her and Eli on their bikes. She was on her way to being the beauty she’d become, while he was scrawny and nerdy-looking.

  Sheriff Frazier took the photo and looked at it. “This is Eli? He looks like Jeff.”

  “Who is Jeff?”

  Sheriff Frazier frowned. “I don’t give out information about Edilean residents.”

  “Okay then, who’s the best gossip in town?”

  For the first time, the sheriff smiled. “I’m not about to tell you that. Why do you want to know?”

  “Eli invited me for a visit and I just saw him in the grocery, but then he called the other guy Eli. I found it all quite confusing.”

  “I see,” the sheriff said. “You want to know who is who. Eli’s the pretty one. His assistant, Jeff, is the skinny one who makes everybody laugh. That answer your question?”

  “Oh, yes. But please don’t mention to either of them that I asked.”

  “I wouldn’t think of it,” he said and went into the store.

  Eli had a wheelbarrow full of gardening tools and was using the loppers to cut away a big shrub at the corner of the house. He’d bought the place completely furnished. A couple had built it about twenty years ago, thinking they’d live there forever. But as they got older, the two acres of grounds had been more than they’d wanted to handle, so they’d bought a condo in Florida. As always, Jeff had befriended them and ended up buying everything in the house—which is why the garage was full of old garden tools and inside was worn, but comfortable, furniture.

  It was early in the season but it was a warm day so Eli had removed his shirt. He should have been inside at his computer but he was too nervous to sit still.