The Cottage on Nantucket

by Jessie Newton

  When had their Sunday-night sex become making love?

  She still wasn’t sure if Ryan would come to Nantucket Point, as he’d never texted or called with his schedule.

  She was hot and cold with Janey, feeling close to her one moment and then distant and irritated in the next.

  “The papers,” she said, turning toward Janey. She wasn’t standing in the kitchen anymore, and Tessa strode toward the mouth of the hallway. “Janey.”

  The doorbell rang, and Tessa spun back that way. Her heartbeat roared through her ears, because it was far too early for a casual caller.

  “Janey,” she hissed this time.

  Her sister came toward her, open alarm on her face. “Who’s at the door?”

  “I have no idea.” The two of them huddled together, turning toward the door as someone knocked. Their voice came through the door, and Janey looked at Tessa.

  “It’s Sean,” she said, relinquishing her hold on Tessa’s hand and starting toward the door.

  “Janey,” Tessa said. “Are you sure?”

  Janey unlocked the door and pulled it open. Sure enough, a soaking wet Sean Masterson walked inside. “What in the world are you doing here so early?” she asked. “And did you walk? Why are you so wet?”

  Sean walked away from her without saying anything, and Tessa actually edged closer to the silverware drawer in case she needed some sort of weapon. Forks could be used for stabbing, right?

  “Sean.” Janey closed the door and marched after him. “What’s going on?”

  He indicated the table. “You two need to sit down.”

  Tessa gripped the back of a dining room chair, but she couldn’t sit down. Janey folded her arms, her dark eyes sparking with fire.

  “What did you find?” Tessa asked.

  “Nothing much on the Martins,” he said, his voice somewhat wooden. “They did own a lot of land here on the Point at one time. The only thing left is this undeveloped piece of land on the other side of The Lighthouse Inn. The historical society has been trying to purchase it for years, but Dennis’s sister won’t sell.”

  Janey sucked in a breath. “Do not tell me his sister is Bobbie Friedman.”

  Tessa looked wildly from Sean to Janey and back. “Sean,” she insisted when he didn’t say anything.

  “If you guys aren’t going to sit, I am,” he said, sighing as he pulled out a chair and sank into it. The refrigerator hummed, and the wind rattled the glass, and Tessa’s heart beat like hummingbird wings in her chest.

  “It’s not Bobbie Friedman,” Sean said. “It’s an elderly woman who lives in the oldest building here on Nantucket.” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. This doesn’t matter.”

  “What does matter?” Janey asked.

  “This.” Sean reached into his front jacket pocket and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. It wasn’t white or a regular piece of copy paper. It looked thicker, and it had multiple colors, like the legal paper titles and certificates came on.

  “What is that?” Tessa asked, but Janey snatched it up off the table before she could take a single step toward it.

  Janey unfolded it, and just from the back of it, Tessa knew it was a title. The title to what, she didn’t know.

  “This is the title to Mom’s car,” Janey said, looking up. “It’s been signed over to me.” Her eyes rounded, and she extended it toward Tessa, the color draining from her face. All of the anger in her stance and expression had been replaced with either shock or fear, Tessa wasn’t sure.

  “Where did you get this?” Tessa asked, scanning the title. It was for Mom’s car, and she’d signed it, which meant she’d done it months ago. “Wait. Why is Dale Harton’s name on this title?”

  He’d signed it too, and that made the car Janey’s. But it also meant that Mom and Dale had owned the car together…

  Janey left the kitchen, and Sean just stared at the tabletop. Neither of those inspired any confidence in Tessa, and she felt a scream building way down deep in her gut.

  “Someone better start explaining something,” she almost yelled, letting her anger move past her shock and fear. She was not going to spend her time in Nantucket Beach huddled in the same bed as her sister, scared of every sound and every shadow.

  Janey’s footsteps came quickly down the hall, and she also clutched a colorful piece of paper in her hand. “Sean,” she said, practically barking the name. “Where did you get this title?”

  “A silver-haired man brought it to me early this morning. At my home,” he said. “He didn’t give his name, but Janey, he…said.” He cleared his throat. “He said he’s…”

  “My father,” Janey said, her voice flat and full of resignation.

  The breath got sucked right out of Tessa’s chest. “What?” she managed to gasp. She wanted to look at Sean and demand he deny it, but she couldn’t look away from Janey.

  Janey was her sister.

  Of course she was. They’d grown up together, and there had never been anyone but Daddy in their lives.

  “After I went to the bank in the city,” Janey said. “That triggered someone to mail this to me.” She handed the paper to Tessa, who could barely read it.

  “It’s my birth certificate,” Janey said. “Mom’s name is there, but the space for my father is blank.”

  Tessa blinked and blinked and blinked. No matter how many times she blinked, no name appeared in the box reserved for the father.

  “Gregory Clarke was not my father,” Janey said, sinking into the chair beside Sean. He reached over and took her hand in his.

  A wail started in Tessa’s head, and she gripped one horrible paper in each of her hands, her fingers tightening around them. If she could just get her fingers to unclench, she could rip both of these official documents to shreds.

  The scream that had been gathering in her gut rose, and rose, and rose, until Tessa either had to let it out or swallow it back.

  She took a deep breath, swallowed, and sat down. “What are we going to do now?”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Janey needed a stiff drink and a hot bath. She needed to figure out what to do with her life. She couldn’t believe she’d raised two children and made it to the age of forty-six and still had no idea what she wanted.

  Her hand in Sean’s sure felt nice, though the mood in the cottage was definitely not nice. Tessa, her sister, just kept looking at Janey.

  Looking and studying and watching.

  Janey was tired of all the staring. She’d felt like everyone in the world had learned of her sudden identity crisis in the past nine days, and they were all watching her, waiting for her to crack and break.

  She hadn’t told anyone about the birth certificate that had come to her house. Not Rachel. Not her official boyfriend, Milford. Not her unofficial boyfriend, Sean. Not Tessa.

  No one.

  Janey was very, very good at keeping secrets.

  What are we going to do now?

  The question Tessa had asked hung in the air.

  Janey didn’t know how to answer it. She’d been asking herself the same thing for nine straight days. An ache started behind her eyes. Rather, the ache that had been infecting her for over a week intensified, and her hand in Sean’s tightened.

  His eyes moved to her face too, and Janey ducked her head so she wouldn’t look at him. All at once, like water rushing over a tall cliff, she understood why Mom hadn’t said anything about the hotel. The bank accounts. The house on Long Island.

  She understood with perfect clarity how her mother’s secrets had haunted her, weighed her down, and kept her silent.

  She couldn’t even tell Sean or Tessa about the birth certificate, and it wasn’t even anything she’d done wrong.

  What about the papers you didn’t sign?

  That question had been keeping her awake at night too, and she wondered how long a person could go without only a few hours of fitful sleep, plenty of caffeine, and a noose laced with secrets around their neck.

/>   Not much longer, in her opinion. She felt two breaths away from picking up the nearest objects and smashing it on the ground. She took those breaths, and nothing happened. Then two more, hating this situation and everyone inside it—including herself.

  Her phone rang, shattering the silence and making her jump. She pulled her fingers from Sean and reached for the device on the table in front of her. “It’s my boss,” she said, her pulse leaping from the back of her throat, where it had lodged with the shrill ring, and practically out of her mouth.

  Her memory fired at her, and Janey gasped. “My meeting.” She ran down the hall to the bedroom, swiping on the call from Sunny as she went. “Good morning, Sunny,” she said, a little breathlessly, but still professional.

  “There you are,” she said, her voice as bright as her name. “Running a bit late this morning?” Sunny understood late, as she was a single mom of three teenage boys. She and Janey had been good friends since the interview that had landed Janey the sales job eight years ago.

  Sunny’s boys had been little then, and Janey had been raising teens of her own. She’d pulled all of Cole’s old clothes out of his closet and given them to Sunny, who’d broken down into tears. The women met for brunch on Sundays, worked out at the same Crossfit gym, and stayed late in Sunny’s office eating Chinese food when they had looming deadlines.

  “Yes,” Janey said. “I’m so sorry. I just need five more minutes.” She could tame her hair and put on a blouse, lip gloss, and a smile in five minutes. Janey could stuff everything away at the drop of a hat, but she knew she’d have to unpack it all eventually.

  She usually did so while on the back of a motorcycle, or in bed with a man, or through a little too much liquor. Exercising helped, and when she was her most mentally sound, Janey talked to a counselor through an app, gave up all drink except water and wine, and for a week or a month or even six, she’d feel like she could conquer the world.

  Her doubts always came creeping back. Her insecurities loomed around every corner. Her loneliness followed her like a hunter, and she always its prey.

  She wasn’t entirely in a good place right now, especially since Mom’s death. That had sent Janey back to her mimosas, her motorcycle, and her men.

  “No problem,” Sunny said. “I’ll call Reggie and meet back with you in ten? How does that sound?”

  “Perfect,” Janey said. The call ended, and she tossed her phone on the bed she and Tessa had slept in last night. Well, Tessa had slept, at least if the snoring was anything to judge by. Janey had wandered down the hall to the living room and curled into the couch, her knees close to her chest and her thoughts far, far away.

  She first flipped open her laptop, because it took a minute to connect to the Internet here. Then she pulled off her pajamas and quickly dressed in a pair of slacks and the black and white blouse she’d brought specifically for this call. After darting across the hall, she brushed her teeth, washed her face, and ran her wet fingers through her hair.

  She quickly redid her mascara and lip gloss and pulled the hair dryer out of the drawer. With her hair properly dried and slicked and presentable, Janey hurried down the hall, where Tessa now stood at the stove, frying eggs, and Sean hadn’t moved from his spot at the table.

  He looked awful, and her heart flipped at the sight of the exhaustion in his face. She wanted to apologize for bringing him into her crazy—into this family drama—but she didn’t.

  “I completely forgot about my meeting this morning,” she said. “I’m going to be at least an hour.”

  “Okay,” Tessa said without turning around.

  “I can’t reschedule it,” Janey said, though she didn’t elaborate on why. “Can we meet up for lunch and talk then?” She knew Tessa didn’t have anything on her schedule, so she kept her gaze on Sean.

  He finally looked at her as if he’d just barely realized she stood there and speaking. “Sure,” he said. “I’ll go catch a few hours of sleep and be back here about lunchtime.” He stood and pushed his chair under the table.

  “There’s all the food trucks at The Lighthouse Inn today,” Tessa said, sliding her eggs onto a plate. The salty, almost plastic smell of them turned Janey’s stomach, causing her to look away.

  “Okay,” Janey said. “I’ll walk you out.” She went with Sean all the way to the porch. She closed the door behind her and held onto the handle for an extra moment. Sean continued away from her, and Janey didn’t want him to leave like this. “Sean, I’m sorry,” she said.

  He turned back, thankfully, and his smile did make him all the more handsome, as well as erased some of the tiredness from his eyes.

  She moved toward him and wrapped her arms around him. “I’m really sorry.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I didn’t know how,” she said. “I was still processing, I think.”

  His hands drifted up her arms, and Janey’s skin sang under his touch. “I like this blouse,” he whispered.

  She lifted her eyes to his and found his gaze trained on her mouth. Janey knew this look, as she had plenty of experience with men. She leaned further into him and tipped her head back a little more, a clear invitation for him to kiss her.

  He dipped his head, his mouth against hers soft and seeking permission. Janey gave it, and kissed him properly, enjoying the slow, sensual way he stroked his lips against hers. He was different than most of the men in her recent past, and Janey sank into his strength and warmth.

  He pulled back far too soon for her liking and said, “See you in a little bit.”

  “Bye,” she said, letting him walk away from her and go down the steps. He climbed into his luxury car and turned around to leave the cottage. Janey moved to the edge of the porch and watched him.

  The moment his car rounded the corner, Riggs Friedman came down his front sidewalk and turned toward the cottage. Janey ducked back into the shadows of the porch, then dashed back into the cottage, locking the door behind her.

  Riggs hadn’t had a fishing pole this time. He was simply watching all of the comings and goings from the cottage.

  She didn’t say a word to Tessa at the table as she passed, compartmentalizing everything so she could focus on her meeting.

  She sat down in front of the computer the moment the online conference call rang, and she tapped to answer it. “Sunny,” she said, smiling for all she was worth. “Thanks for giving me a few minutes.”

  “Of course. How are things on Nantucket?”

  They chatted for a few minutes, and Janey kept everything full of laughter and beach days and food trucks.

  Then Sunny said, “Janey, I’m thrilled to let you know you’re one of the top two candidates for the Senior Sales Manager position that’s open. I’m going to loop in Shane and Dalton, and we’ll start the interview. Okay?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Janey said. “Thank you so much.”

  This was so much more than a meeting. This was the job interview of Janey’s life, and she couldn’t afford to be thinking about Sean, her mother’s will, this cottage, Riggs and what he might be doing, or who her father was.

  Later, she told herself, sewing everything away that she didn’t need to get this job. As Sunny got her senior partners on the call, Janey opened a few documents she’d prepared for this interview.

  Facts and figures and her sales history. She took a deep breath and focused. She needed this job, and she was going to do everything she could to get it.

  She could figure out who she was and where she belonged afterward.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  “Yes, Shane,” Janey said. “I can see that, but no, I don’t really agree.” She kept her voice as passive as possible, while still trying to get her point across. “OceanAir is a huge account, despite the small number you see in the chart, and I’ll tell you why.”

  She clicked over to her one-sheet on the company, though she had it memorized. “They only bought enough software for one of their airlines, because they wanted to try it first. I c
heck-in with them every two weeks to answer questions and keep my relationship with the booking manager there current. Steven and I get along great, and the reason this is a huge account is because OceanAir owns thirteen airlines.”

  She looked up at Shane Farnsworth, the auburn-haired man who sat second-in-command at Janey’s company. He didn’t look happy as he peered down at something in front of him.

  “OceanAir put the software on one airline that flies from Hawaiian island to island, and then two flights to Japan each day and two to the US. But really, they own sixty-four percent of the flights that happen over the Pacific.” She leaned back and smiled her best professional smile at the camera. “I’m confident I can get our booking and tracking and financial software in all their systems within a year.”

  Janey had said such outlandish things before when she’d had no idea if they’d come true or not. This time, though, she spoke with some level of confidence. She’d spoken with Steven Isle only three days ago, and he’d put in an order for four more of their airlines.

  She simply hadn’t recorded the sale yet, because Steven still had some invoicing he needed to complete.

  Shane looked up, surprise in his eyes. “A year?”

  “Yes, sir,” she said, glancing at the other man on the call with her and Sunny. Dalton sat at the head of the finance sector of her company, and she hadn’t dealt with him much. She wasn’t sure why he needed to be on this call at all.

  Shane signed a paper in front of him and handed it to someone off-screen.

  “I agree with Janey,” Sunny said. “Not only is she exceptional at her customer service, she delivers when she says she will.”

  Janey’s heart skipped over itself, but she kept her smile hitched in its spot.