by Olivia Miles
“And I hear little Kimberly Taylor is about to become a married woman! Hey, Andrea!” He gave her a quick embrace, even if it seemed as though his gaze never left Heather.
Well, that explained the dress.
“I didn’t know you were joining us tonight!” Kim continued, which was only slightly odd, because usually her upcoming wedding was the only thing she could speak of these days, and before that, it was Bran, Bran, Bran. Where he took her, what they ate, what she wore, what he said. There was only so much of it that Andrea could take, and from the shadow in Heather’s eyes at Christmas, she could assume the same went for her other sister.
“Heather stopped by yesterday and invited me. Wouldn’t miss it.”
Oh, did she now? Andrea slid her sister a knowing look. Heather’s cheeks flushed subtly.
“If the whole gang is getting together, we can’t have Billy miss out!” her sister insisted.
Kim pinched her mouth and gave Andrea a conspiratorial smile. Andrea felt something in her soften toward her younger sister. Kim was many things, and one of her best qualities had always been her ability to look at the bright side, even when others couldn’t.
“Oh, look, there’s Gemma now!” Heather waved with both hands as they cut across the lawn to the large Victorian where they had spent so many summer days, coming up and down the stairs, sitting on the porch, letting their towels dry over the railing. They were in and out of each other’s homes so much, it was hard to know where the properties even divided.
Gemma hurried down the stairs and greeted each of them, but she didn’t seem surprised to see Billy. “Hey you,” she said. To the rest of them, she said, “Who would have thought that Billy and I would be the ones to end up here year-round?”
“In fairness, my primary residence is Pine Falls,” Billy corrected, but he looked pleased. He jutted his chin at the porch. “Is that John Bowden talking with Leo?”
Gemma nodded. “I invited him tonight, seeing as he’s sort of becoming an extended member of the gang. The new gang.” She laughed, but Andrea was too startled to feign amusement.
There, sitting on the porch, talking with Leo, was none other than the man from the Lakeside Inn. The two men turned as the group came up the steps, and there was no denying the flash of recognition in the man’s face when he saw her.
“We meet again,” he said, giving her an appraising look.
Andrea could feel both of her sisters’ and Gemma’s eyes on her, but she refused to look at any of them. There was nothing to explain other than a passing interaction at a hotel restaurant. Certainly nothing more to that gleam in the man’s admittedly beautiful hazel eyes.
She smiled, even if she wasn’t completely thrilled to see him. The man had been judgmental and outspoken, and with her stress these days, she didn’t appreciate either, especially from someone who didn’t have a clue what her life was like. But this was a party, and she was a guest, and Gemma and Billy and Leo seemed to have found something redeeming in the man.
“We meet officially,” she said, extending her hand. “I’m Andrea Taylor.”
“John Bowden,” he said, giving her a firm but slow shake, one that signaled to her that he wasn’t going to be quick in releasing her palm.
A strange emotion rolled through her stomach. If she didn’t know better, she might call it attraction. If she didn’t know better, which she did. After all, the man was attractive, but he was also checked out from her world, opinionated, and… Well, it didn’t matter. She didn’t have time for romance, suitable or not. She had a partnership at stake, one that she had been invested in for a very long time.
“I brought wine,” she said, using it as an excuse to snatch her hand back, so she could hold out the bottle with both hands.
“And I brought a pie,” Heather said, giving a humble smile. “As if that isn’t obvious.”
“And Leo’s grilling,” Gemma said with a laugh. “I wish Hope was here. Not only would she love to see you all, but she’s also a much better cook than I am.”
“Hey, speak for yourself,” Leo chided, sliding an affectionate hand around Gemma’s waist.
“Considering that most of my meals are from a restaurant, anything homemade sounds wonderful,” John said.
So the man ate out every night while living here, on this idyllic island. He probably didn’t have a care in the world. While Andrea…she had a lot of cares. A lot of worries, too. For a moment, she couldn’t help but feel a flash of envy at the way everyone else around her seemed so capable of shedding their troubles and enjoying a warm evening with friends.
“How is Hope?” Andrea asked, realizing that they hadn’t talked about her much yet. She thought she saw a strange shadow come over John’s face but didn’t read into it. Likely, the man had opinions on Hope and Ellie, too. She doubted that she alone had been singled out by his attention because she rarely was. In Chicago, she occasionally caught the eye of a man in a bar after work, sometimes even chatted through one drink, but she didn’t give off the impression that she was interested in more than that, and it would seem from the company tonight that she didn’t dress as if she were, either.
She was all business. That was the message. Even if it hadn’t always been intentional.
Gemma skirted her gaze to John and back to Andrea. “Hope is good. Busy. She has a side business now while the girls are in school or camp. I know they were going to try to get up here this summer, but it might not be until Labor Day weekend.”
“By then we’ll be gone,” Heather said, and this time it was Billy’s expression that Andrea noticed. He looked more than a little disappointed. Andrea wondered if Heather had picked up on it, but she was already walking across the porch to set the pie down where it wouldn’t be disturbed.
“I was hoping Ellie would be here,” Kim said, accepting a glass of wine from Leo.
“Oh, she’ll be back by next spring,” Gemma said knowingly. “She loves this place. But it’s been nice for her to travel knowing that we’re looking after the place. It’s been nice all around.”
She shared a little smile with Leo and now it was Kim’s turn to frown, and something told Andrea that it had nothing to do with her favorite summer friend not being part of the group tonight.
Or maybe it was because Bran wasn’t here.
“Wine, Andrea?” It was John who spoke, and reluctantly, Andrea nodded. She needed something to take the edge off, because as much as she’d hoped this would be an evening where she’d be distracted from her troubles for a bit, it wasn’t turning out that way so far.
Tonight, her life back in Chicago felt forefront on her mind, and not because it was Friday evening and she’d missed a solid five days while her competition had gained an advantage. No, tonight she was starting to wonder if her choices and sacrifices had all been worth it, or if next month she’d be toasting to the newest partner named Jace, rather than celebrating for herself.
Celebrating by herself, she realized, even though she hadn’t given that much thought before. She’d slowly made her personal life smaller, even though it hadn’t been intentional.
“Why not?” She was off the clock. The office was closed. She’d put in some work on the Morrison project and she’d do more over the weekend. She’d been working off her original idea, one that wasn’t much different than another design she’d done last year—one that had been well received. There would be no more urgent emails to Nicole tonight, or even tomorrow. Until Monday morning, she should focus on her sisters and friends. And maybe, she thought, slightly reluctantly, on this man who was determined to befriend her.
John poured her a glass of white wine from an already open bottle and handed it to her. “When Gemma told me that the family from next door was coming over tonight, I didn’t realize that you were an islander.”
“Summer people,” Andrea corrected. “We’ve known the Morgans since we were just little girls.”
“I’ve heard all the stories over time. I didn’t connect you when we met the othe
r day.”
“Well, I live in Chicago now,” she said, realizing she had already told him that. “And I haven’t been back to the island in a while.”
“Shame. It’s a wonderful escape.” His stare was so intense, that Andrea shifted the weight on her feet.
“For those who have the luxury,” she said briskly, and she didn’t just mean financially, she meant time—away from work, away from responsibility, away from all the little things that filled her days.
“Maybe you can convince her to have a little fun,” Kim said, coming to join them. Her eyes shone with mischief, and her lips curled into a little smile when Andrea flashed her a look of warning. “We’ve been trying to get her to put her work aside for years. I’m almost ready to give up!”
It was said with a laugh, but Andrea felt the sting of the truth in her sister’s words. How many years had she passed up the opportunity to come here with her mother or sisters? How many years had she let slide by, thinking there’d always be another time, a better time, until time had run out?
Luckily, John kept things light, with a broad smile and a lingering gaze in her direction. “Oh, I don’t back down that easily.”
Andrea’s stomach rolled over. God help her. He was singling her out, and she…she was out of her element.
She took a steadying sip of her wine, noting the wide-eyed and less than subtle look that Kim gave her as she moved over to the table and helped herself to some chips and dip.
Andrea wondered how she could follow her. In business, she never struggled like this. But then, in business, there was commonality, a point to the conversation. And now… Now there were just John’s eyes. He had very nice eyes.
She was relieved when Heather popped up next to them to pour a glass of wine.
“So, John, what is it that you do?” Heather asked.
“I own the Lakeside Inn,” John said, mildly.
Andrea nearly coughed on her drink, and clearly, her surprise wasn’t lost on him. He lifted an eyebrow playfully.
“I thought the Kesslers owned it,” she said, tipping her head.
“They retired,” Gemma contributed. “Thank goodness for John or who knows what might have become of it.”
“Oh, I love that hotel!” Kim chimed in. “We used to go there for lemonade with our mother. We’d sit on the deck and admire the view and feel like we were back in time, because they always brought the drinks in those funny-shaped glasses. And those cinnamon rolls… Tell me you still have them.”
John chuckled. “Of course. And the glasses too. When I bought the hotel, I knew that there was a lot of renovation work to be done, but I also wanted to keep the place true to its roots, to preserve what people love about it most. I want it to be a place that people return to, year after year, a place where they feel nostalgic, not just a place where they drop into bed at the end of a long day.”
Andrea stared at him pensively, letting his words sink in. That was how she felt about their lake house—about the island in general—even if she hadn’t stopped to think about it in too long. She’d always counted on it being the exact same when she returned. Now, she realized just how much she’d depended on it.
“Where were you before this?” Heather asked.
John looked at Andrea and grinned. “Chicago.”
Andrea pursed her lips. He had her. And he knew it. And she couldn’t say that she was annoyed by it, either. If anything she’d say that she was surprised. Pleasantly so, in fact.
16
Kim
Kim was being sensitive, she knew. But sitting at this table, she couldn’t help but feel like an outsider at what was becoming a very intimate dinner, and not because there were only seven of them present. No, Gemma and Leo were enamored, partners in the truest sense of the word, and not just in starting up a horse riding business as Sally Hayworth had already told them. They knew each other’s patterns, they got each other’s jokes, and the way they looked at each other…Kim could now be certain that Gemma had probably never looked at any other man like that before, not even her ex-fiancé.
And then there was Heather and Billy; the fondness between them was obvious to everyone, possibly even Heather, try as she might to deny it. When someone shared a memory, they were quick to exchange a small smile. They had a history, but more than that, they had a connection, and from the looks of it, so did John and Andrea. Why, the only time that Heather even took her eyes off Billy was to shoot wide-eyed suggestive glances at Kim every time Andrea laughed at something this inn owner said.
“Your laugh is exactly like your mother’s,” Gemma said to Andrea, her tone a little wistful.
“It’s probably the only thing I inherited from her,” Andrea said as she reached for her wineglass. “Well, other than my hair of course, and we all got that.”
“What more could you possibly ask for?” John grinned at her, and Andrea, Kim, saw, struggled to hide her smile.
“Don’t forget the house,” Billy said. “Your mother left that to you girls. She loved that house.”
Kim nodded, wondering if it could possibly mean as much to Andrea or even Heather as it meant to her, and then thought that was unfair of her. They’d come to the island, hadn’t they? Even Andrea, now, after all this time.
“If it hadn’t been for Leo I’m not sure what would have become of our house by now,” Gemma set down her fork and sighed.
Kim and her sisters looked at her in surprise. “You mean if you hadn’t moved back to the island?”
Gemma nodded. “That, mostly. There was a time last summer when I thought the best thing to do would be to sell this old place.”
Heather gasped. “Well, I’m happy to hear you came to your senses!”
“In a way, without someone living here full time, it didn’t make sense to keep it, especially since we all stopped visiting regularly. It was fine when my grandmother was still with us, but after she was gone, the upkeep became too much for Ellie.”
This was starting to sound familiar, and not in a good way. It was what Kim’s father had said, in so many words.
“What do you think would have come of it if you’d sold?” Andrea asked, leaning in.
Kim looked at her sharply. Surely she couldn’t be gathering information, thinking that they might do just this? Kim was very aware that Andrea was keen to keep up with the latest design trends so that she could stay relevant in a competitive industry.
But Andrea said, “That’s the thing about these homes, just like the inn.” She gave John a small smile. “Not everyone will appreciate the history. These are old properties. They require a special level of care.”
“And love,” Kim added. “Our mother loved the house here so much, and I think that’s why she kept coming back each year. It takes that kind of emotional investment to hold on to a property through the generations.”
“They’re also expensive, and a lot of work,” Gemma pointed out.
“But they’re special. A throwback to another time. A better time, in many ways,” Andrea said. She gave a little smile. “These homes were the reason that I became an architect.”
John looked at her with interest. “Is that so?”
“You sound surprised,” she replied.
Kim looked at Heather, who hid her smile behind her wineglass. Yep, Andrea was flirting, even if she might not yet know it.
“Not surprised, but rather impressed.” John jutted his lip. “This is a historic island, in many ways you could even argue that it’s been frozen in time. For me, that’s the appeal, and it’s why I’m so careful with every change I make at the inn. Even so, it’s been a little challenging to get some bigger projects approved by the historical society.”
“Hey, that’s a topic idea for your article, Heather,” Kim said. When she saw the look of confusion fall over most of the table, she said, “Sally asked her to write a feature column.”
“Well, that’s exciting!” Gemma leaned forward. “Remember that summer we made our own newspaper? We must have been ab
out nine or ten.”
Heather laughed. It was a sound that Kim hadn’t heard in a long time, she realized.
“West End Happenings,” she cried. “I recall we even mentioned how Mrs. Anderson had changed her hair color since the previous season.”
Gemma’s shoulders shook. “Look how far we’ve come. What are you planning to write about?”
“I was hoping to pick your brain, Gemma,” Heather said, standing up to retrieve her pie from where it sat cooling on the porch rail. She brought it to the center of the table. The men all leaned in excitedly. “I’m a little out of my element writing something about the island.”
“Nonsense!” It was Billy who looked at her crossly. “You are every bit as much an islander as everyone else at the table.”
Heather flushed at that, and Kim looked over at Andrea, who seemed to feel just as uncomfortable by that as Kim did. Sure, they’d come every year as kids, and the house had been passed down through the generations, but Kim’s father’s words loomed loud in her ears. What if they stopped coming back to the island? What then?
By the time Kim made it downstairs the next morning, the kitchen was quiet, and only the sound of Andrea tapping on her laptop through the screen door gave any indication that she wasn’t alone in the house.
The breakfast dishes were still in the sink, and when Kim filled her mug with coffee she realized that it had gone cold. There was no microwave in the house, meaning she could start a fresh pot or drink it as it was. She poured the liquid into a juice glass and added a few ice cubes and a splash of milk, deciding to make the best of the situation. Like she always did.
She took a sip of the iced coffee, but it did nothing to clear her head or undo the knots in her stomach when she thought about the fact that it was Saturday. A week had passed, and even though she was here in this house on Evening Island, her mind was back in Chicago. Specifically, it was on the event tonight that she wouldn’t be attending, much to Bran and Lynette’s disappointment.
