The Day He Came Back

by Ward, Penelope

  First Edition

  Copyright © 2019

  By Penelope Ward

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, things living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.

  Edited by: Jessica Royer Ocken

  Proofreading and Formatting by: Elaine York, Allusion Publishing

  Cover Model: Christian Hogue

  www.imdmodeling.com

  Cover Photographer: Brian Jamie

  Cover Design: Letitia Hasser, RBA Designs

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  * * *

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Part Two

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Epilogue

  Newsletter Sign-Up

  Other Books by Penelope Ward

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  PROLOGUE

  * * *

  RAVEN

  I made my way to the top of the grand, winding staircase. I had to pass Gavin’s old room to get to the master suite. And every time I walked by it, I thought of him.

  My working in this house was ironic, to say the least. The mansion that once held so much life within its walls was now a quiet, echoing shell. Its beauty was unchanged, though. Situated in posh Palm Beach, the house overlooked the Atlantic Ocean, the murmur of the waves always registering through the open windows.

  It was here that I’d fallen in love and had my heart broken all in the same summer.

  Ten years later, I was back. The only staff left were the butler, housekeeper, and myself—the day nurse. We were here for him and only him. Mr. M had treated Fred and Genevieve well over the years, so they’d remained loyal, even though I’m sure they could’ve been swooped up by some other rich clients on this island for even more money.

  And me? I was here because he’d asked me to stay. When the private-nurse staffing company I worked for gave me the address for this assignment, I’d practically fainted. And I nearly turned the job down due to a conflict of interest—I couldn’t imagine working for Gavin’s dad after all this time.

  But then I’d gotten curious about what I’d find here, curious about the severity of Mr. M’s condition. I’d planned to work for one day, then request they reassign me. I’d figured Mr. M probably wouldn’t even remember me. But then…he called me Renata. That was a game changer.

  One day kept leading to the next, and I began to feel like taking care of him was the least I could do—he’d been nothing but good to me, then and now. It felt like fate, really.

  I opened the door to his bedroom. “Mr. M, how are you feeling after your nap?”

  “I’m alright,” he said, staring into space.

  “Good.”

  He turned to me. “You look nice, Renata.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  I opened the shades to let some light into the room. “Do you think you’d like to take a walk later? It’s not too hot out today.”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. It’s a plan.”

  This might have seemed like a normal interaction between a client and his nurse, but this was far from ordinary. My name isn’t Renata, and Mr. M hadn’t had his wits about him for some time.

  Renata was my mother. She worked here as the lead housekeeper for more than a dozen years and had been close to Mr. M—Gunther Masterson, prominent attorney to the stars. I let him believe I was her, his old friend and confidante. I knew now how much she’d meant to him. I knew I looked like her. I didn’t mind keeping her memory alive. So I went along with it.

  It was pretty funny now to look back at the time when I’d been strictly forbidden from this home—a dark-haired, rebellious girl from across the bridge who stood out like a sore thumb in a sea of perfect, blond, Palm Beach debutantes; the girl who’d once won the affections of Ruth Masterson’s beloved oldest son, heir to the Masterson legacy, the son who’d defied her to pursue me.

  Years later, things at the mansion couldn’t have been more different. I never imagined how much I would come to care for Mr. M.

  Just as I was about to help Mr. M out of bed, there was a knock at the door.

  “Come in,” I said.

  Genevieve appeared and uttered the words that would change the entire course of the day.

  “Mr. Masterson? Your son, Gavin, just arrived from London.” She glanced at me worriedly. “We weren’t expecting him. But he’s downstairs and coming up to see you shortly.”

  My heart dropped.

  What?

  Gavin?

  Gavin is here?

  No.

  No. No. No.

  Genevieve knew what this meant. She’d worked here back when everything went down with Gavin and me.

  “I’m sorry, Raven,” she whispered, low enough that Mr. M didn’t hear.

  After she went back downstairs, panic set in. He’s supposed to be an ocean away! He’s supposed to tell us if he’s coming.

  I had no chance to prepare myself. Before I knew it, I turned around and stared into the shocked eyes of the only guy I’d ever loved, one I hadn’t seen in a decade. I’d never dreamed that today—a random Wednesday—would be the day he came back.

  CHAPTER ONE

  * * *

  RAVEN

  TEN YEARS EARLIER

  My mother came up behind me in the kitchen. “A bit of a change in plans, Raven.”

  I stopped wiping down the sparkling granite center island. “What’s going on?”

  “I need you to stop cleaning and go grocery shopping instead. The boys are coming back from London today. Ruth only now told us.”

  The boys were Gavin and Weldon Masterson, the sons of Ruth and Gunther Masterson—our employers. Gavin was around twenty-one, and Weldon was three or four years younger. I’d never met them because my mother never brought me to her work when I was growing up. She would talk about the boys from time to time, though. From what I’d heard, their return from Europe every year was like the second coming of Christ. I knew Gavin had just graduated from Oxford, and Weldon attended a boarding school there.

  My mother had been the Mastersons’ housekeeper for over a decade. They’d recently decided they needed some extra help around the house in the late spring and summer months while the boys would be home, so Mom got me a job as an additional part-time housekeeper this season. Unlike many othe
r people on the island, the Mastersons weren’t snowbirds who traveled north in the summer. They stayed here year-round.

  Their mansion was just over the bridge from where I lived in West Palm Beach, but it truly felt a world away.

  “What time are they coming?” I asked.

  “Apparently, they just landed at Palm Beach International.”

  Great.

  She handed me a piece of paper. “Take this shopping list and head to the store. Whatever you do, don’t buy anything unless it’s organic. Ruth will blow her lid.”

  ***

  The trip to the supermarket took longer than I wanted. Having to read labels and make sure everything was organic was a pain in the ass.

  As I began putting the groceries away in the kitchen, I noticed someone sitting in the corner of the breakfast nook by the window.

  I recognized him from photos. It was the younger son, Weldon. He had dark blond hair and fine features. He looked a lot like Ruth.

  Seeming totally oblivious to my presence, he devoured a bowl of chili con carne with his face buried in his phone.

  “Hello,” I called to him. “I’m Raven.”

  Nothing. Not a word.

  “Hi,” I repeated.

  Nothing.

  Am I invisible?

  He wasn’t wearing earbuds. I knew he’d heard me, yet he hadn’t even looked up.

  I muttered under my breath, sure he wouldn’t hear me since he was so immersed in his scrolling. “Ohhh, okay. I get it. You’re a self-absorbed, pin-headed prick who doesn’t believe in acknowledging anyone with a smaller bank account. Why don’t you just continue to stuff your face like I don’t exist? Well, fuck you, too.”

  “Fuck you three,” I heard a deep voice say behind me.

  Shit!

  I turned around slowly to find the most mesmerizing set of blue eyes peering at me.

  The other brother. Gavin.

  He flashed a huge smile. Unlike Weldon, who seemed devoid of all personality, Gavin Masterson bled charm through his smile alone. He was also drop-dead gorgeous. Honestly, he looked like a movie star—definitely way more grown up than in the photos on the walls.

  My heart dropped to my stomach. “Uh…”

  “It’s okay. I won’t tell.” He smirked and glanced over at Weldon. “For the record, he deserves it.”

  I stuttered, “Still…that…was inappropriate. I ju—”

  “I think it was great. We need more people around here who keep it real, tell it like it is.”

  Ohh-kay. “Seriously, how did you even hear that?” I asked. “It was under my breath. I wasn’t even sure I said it out loud at all.”

  He pointed to his ear. “I’ve been told I have really good hearing.” He stuck out his hand. “Gavin.”

  I took it. “I know.”

  His hand was much bigger than mine. His long, masculine fingers felt warm and electric.

  “Nice to meet you, Raven.”

  I hadn’t told him my name.

  Feeling a shiver along my spine, I said, “You know who I am…”

  “Of course I do. Your mother talks about you all the time. I knew you were working here now. I’ve been looking for you…to say hello. Although, I almost called you Chiquita just now.”

  “Chiquita?”

  I flinched when he reached over and pulled a tiny sticker off my shirt. The slight touch gave me goosebumps. He stuck it on the top of his hand. Chiquita. As in Chiquita banana. It must have fallen off of the bunch of bananas I’d bought.

  My face felt hot. “Oh.” I had to be blushing.

  I looked up at him again. Gavin’s hair was darker than Weldon’s—a medium shade of brown, longer in the front and tousled. He looked like a younger version of his dad. Gavin was exactly my type: tall and built with expressive eyes and a killer smile that held a hint of mischief. He wore a leather jacket, which added to the mysterious vibe about him.

  “Did you not get the memo that it’s ninety degrees here? You’re dressed like you’re still in London. I’m getting hot just looking at you.”

  Okay. That sounded bad.

  “You are, huh?”

  He picked up on it. Great.

  “Well…” he said. “I just went from the air-conditioned car to the air-conditioned house, so it hasn’t hit me yet. But I’m quite aware it’s hot as balls out.” Suddenly, he tore off his jacket. “But since just looking at me makes you hot, I’ll take it off.” He pulled his shirt over his head, revealing a ripped chest. “Better?”

  I swallowed hard. “Yeah.”

  He crossed his toned arms. “Where do you go to school again?”

  I pried my eyes upward. “I’m taking some time off. I went to Forest Hill in West Palm for high school. I plan to start some college classes in the fall.”

  “Gotcha.”

  “I’m hoping to transfer credits to a bigger university after a couple of years,” I added.

  “Cool. And what are you thinking for a major?”

  “Nursing. What about you? Didn’t you just graduate?”

  “Yeah. Pre-law,” he said.

  “You’re going to law school in the fall, then?”

  He nodded. “Yale.”

  I coughed, trying to seem nonchalant. “Not a bad choice.”

  “Didn’t get into Harvard, so it will have to do.” He rolled his eyes—not in a cocky way, more self-deprecating.

  “Right. Yale, a real concession. Your parents must be very disappointed.”

  He chuckled, and his eyes lingered on mine. He was merely looking at me, but somehow I felt it.

  Our attention turned to Weldon, who got up and walked toward us. He left his dirty, chili-encrusted bowl at the edge of the sink on the way.

  As Weldon started to leave the room, Gavin called him out. “What are you doing?”

  “What do you mean?” he answered.

  Apparently, he can hear.

  “Rinse out your fucking dish and put it in the dishwasher.”

  Well, if I didn’t like Gavin already…

  Weldon looked over at me for the first time. “Isn’t that what she’s here for?”

  Forcing my mouth shut, I looked between them. Gavin didn’t have to say anything. The icy look on his face said it all.

  Remarkably, Weldon followed Gavin’s instructions without further argument. It was clear who the big brother was.

  After Weldon left in a huff, Gavin turned to me. “He thinks he’s fucking Prince Harry.”

  I cackled. “Pretty sure Harry would have put his dirty dish away without having to be asked.”

  “You got a point. Harry seems cool as shit. Will, too.”

  “Speaking of the royals, I would imagine it’s pretty cool living in London.”

  “Yeah. If your parents are gonna ship you off to boarding school, I suppose they could’ve picked a worse place. After going to high school there, I didn’t want to leave, which was why I chose Oxford for university. It was my excuse to stay in England. I’d love to live there again someday. I’ll miss it. It’s the total opposite of Palm Beach, and I mean that in the best possible way. It’s cloudy there most days, but people aren’t carbon copies of each other.”

  “I might have to bite my lip on that one.”

  “Oh, but it’s so much fun when you don’t,” he said with a glimmer in his eyes. “I prefer honesty. I can only imagine what you must go home thinking sometimes.”

  “Maybe occasionally. It can be a bit militant. But I feel fortunate to work here. It’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever set foot in. Definitely beats bagging groceries.” I looked around. “Speaking of groceries…I’d better finish putting everything away.”

  As I returned to stocking the cabinets and fridge, Gavin hung around. He attempted to help me. He lifted a package of whole-wheat flour and opened various cabinets, searching for its spot.

  I chuckled. “You don’t know where anything goes, do you?”

  “Not a freaking clue.”

  “A for effort.”


  We were both laughing when Ruth Masterson came into the kitchen. I always played evil music in my head when she entered a room, like when the Wicked Witch of the West appears in The Wizard of Oz. Simply put, she wasn’t very nice.

  “Gavin, there you are.” She glanced down at his chest. “Put a shirt on, please. And why are you holding the flour?”

  “I was trying to help.” Gavin grabbed his T-shirt from the counter and pulled it over his head. “What’s up, Mother?”

  Her eyes darted over to me before she said, “I need you upstairs. I ordered you a tux to wear to the gala tonight. You have to try it on in case we have to make emergency alterations. We don’t have much time.” Her gaze moved over me again.

  If looks could kill…

  “I’ll be there in a sec.”

  She didn’t budge. “I meant now.”

  “Uh…alright, then.” Looking annoyed, Gavin turned to me. “Catch you later, Raven.”

  I nodded, too nervous to utter a sound, given the look his mother had for me.

  After Gavin exited the kitchen, Ruth lingered. Her stare was penetrating, her eyes filled with something that resembled disgust as she stared daggers at me. She didn’t speak, but I got the message.

  Stay the hell away from my son.

  ***

  That night, after the Mastersons left for their charity gala, it was about eight in the evening when my mother and I drove over the bridge to head home. The sun was setting, and the palm trees in the distance looked like they were slow dancing in the evening breeze.

  With the exception of a few neighborhoods bordering the foot of the bridge near the water, West Palm Beach, where I lived, was working class and residential—the opposite of opulent and ostentatious Palm Beach. The giant mansions were soon replaced by modest, one-level, stucco homes.

  As I gazed out the window at a woman rollerblading on Flagler Drive, my mother snapped me out of my thoughts.

  “I was so busy getting everyone ready for the gala, I didn’t see whether or not you got to meet the boys.”

  “I did. Just briefly. Weldon is a douche.”

  My mother laughed. “Yeah. He can be. What about Gavin?”