by Tina Folsom
Because he did feel like a jerk. He wasn’t proud of what he’d done, how he’d deceived Tara. But at the time it had sounded like a good idea to find out if a woman could develop real feelings for him without being blinded by his money. Well, the joke was on him.
He tuned out as his friends exchanged the pieces of information they each had and filled each other in.
Hunter had joined them. He put a hand on Jay’s shoulder. “So, what now?”
Jay shrugged. “Nothing. It’s over. She doesn’t want a rich guy, okay? She’s made that abundantly clear to me. End of story.” However, it was easier said than done.
Paul hummed. “Mmm, that’s odd then that she would accept an invitation to the Willamotts for the weekend.”
Jay spun around. “What?”
Paul motioned to where his parents sat talking to Holly. “Yeah, Mother mentioned earlier that the entire Pierpont family is going to be at a house party on Shelter Island. And Mrs. Pierpont has made it her mission to find a suitable match for Tara. It appears Tara is finally giving in to her mother’s wishes.”
Over his fucking dead body!
“Do you know the address?”
Paul grinned and exchanged a conspiratorial look with Zach, Wade, and Hunter. “Looks like our friend hasn’t lost interest in Tara after all.”
Lost interest? Not fucking likely!
22
“Why won’t you tell me what’s going on?” Veronica asked as she sat on the bed and watched Tara through the open bathroom door, putting gel into her still-wet hair and styling it into place.
Tara met her sister’s inquisitive stare in the mirror. “I don’t wanna talk about it. It’s done.”
“But you were so into him. You practically glowed.” She flicked her wrist at Tara. “And look at you now.”
Tara pivoted and walked into the bedroom. “You don’t like my outfit?” She glanced down at herself. She’d changed into a short, figure-hugging red dress suitable for the cocktail party that was about to start. The Willamotts had invited half of Shelter Island.
“Your dress is fine, though a little more risqué than I’m used to from you.” Her sister rose and walked toward her. “But I’m worried about you.”
“There’s nothing to worry about. I’m fine.” How many times she’d said that last word in the last week, she couldn’t recall. But in every single case it had been a lie. She wasn’t fine. She was hurt. Hurt that Jay had lied to her.
“Maybe you can fool Mom and Dad, but you can’t fool me.”
“Why can’t you just let it go?”
Veronica took Tara’s hands in hers. “Because you’re my little sister, and I don’t want to see you unhappy.”
Tara pressed her lips together, ashamed. “Oh, Veronica, I’m so sorry. I never really gave you credit for what a good person you are. I always thought you were like Mom, just interested in the superficial things in life. I judged you wrongly.”
“That’s not important right now. Tell me what happened with this guy, with Jay.”
Tara sniffled. “He wasn’t at all who he said he was.”
“Oh Tara, most men aren’t. That’s part of the deal. They show you one side and then you discover another, and yeah, sometimes you might not like it. But that’s life.”
“It wasn’t like that at all. He was nothing like he pretended to be. Nothing at all. He was a fake. A big fake. And I fell for it. I believed everything he said.”
Veronica stroked her fingers over Tara’s cheek. “Oh, kiddo, I’m so sorry.”
Tara shrugged, trying to brush the sadness off, but it was a futile attempt.
“So what are you doing here, huh? Why didn’t you stay in New York and at least pursue those job opportunities you mentioned?”
Tears welled up in her eyes, and she didn’t have the strength to push them back any longer. “I didn’t get…get the job.” Because she’d called her potential employer a liar and a jerk.
Veronica pulled her into an embrace. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Tara. But there’ll be others, I promise you. You just have to keep trying.”
Tara shook her head, sobbing. “It’s no use. I should just do what Mom wants me to do. Because whenever I try to rebel, look how it turns out!”
“But Tara. Brad Willamott?”
The name alone made her break out in goose bumps. She’d never liked the spoiled son of one of the richest families in the Hamptons. By accepting the invitation this weekend, she’d practically indicated that she would be willing to go out with Brad and consider him a marriage candidate. Oh God, she felt like she’d time-traveled and landed in a regency romance where she was being coerced into a marriage of convenience. This was crazy.
“At least I know going into it that he’s a douchebag. There won’t be any surprises.” And she wouldn’t develop any feelings for somebody like that. Hence her heart could not be broken. Wasn’t that the perfect solution? Crap, not even she believed that. What the hell was she doing here?
“Tara, you’re not thinking clearly. You’re upset, and you shouldn’t make any decisions when upset. Tomorrow, you’ll leave with Adam and me, and you’ll spend some time with us until you feel better.”
“But Mom is never—”
“Leave Mom up to me.”
“But I don’t want to intrude on you and Adam. I mean you don’t need a fifth wheel.”
“Don’t worry about that. Adam will survive it. Besides, he likes you.”
Through her tears she smiled at her sister. “Are you sure?”
Veronica nodded.
“You’re the best sister ever.”
“Of course I am,” Veronica replied. “Now, fix your make-up and then we’ll go down there and mingle with the crowd. There isn’t much a few drinks can’t fix.”
“Thank you.” Her heart filled with gratitude.
At least she had one person she could rely on to get her through this mess, because coming to the Willamotts had been a stupid idea. It wouldn’t solve her problems or mend her broken heart.
~ ~ ~
Tara set her empty glass on a passing waiter’s tray and exchanged it for a full one. At least the champagne was good, and the fact that the Willamotts had invited half the island helped her avoid the people she didn’t want to see: her parents and Brad. Whenever she saw them closing in on her, she dove into the crowd and disappeared. She was getting good at it, too.
“Hi Tara, finally.”
Maybe not good enough, a little voice in her head added.
She pivoted and forced a smile. “Brad, such a nice party. Your parents have outdone themselves.”
“I’m just glad we’re finally able to connect.”
He grinned in a leering kind of way, his gaze already straying from her face and drifting down to her cleavage. She instantly regretted her choice of wardrobe. A turtleneck sweater would have been a better choice.
“I’m sure you have lots of guests to entertain.” She motioned to the crowd of people. “I’d hate to monopolize you.”
“I don’t. Hate it, I mean. You can monopolize me anytime you want to.”
She felt acute nausea churn up in her stomach. But instead of puking she tried humor. “Oh you’re too funny, Brad! Always such a joker. Your mother did warn me about your wicked sense of humor.”
Warning was maybe the wrong word. Rather his mother had talked up Brad’s supposedly good attributes whenever she’d gotten a chance. How smart her son was (sure, if a 3.2 grade point average from an Ivy League university was considered smart); how handsome he was (to anybody who thought that the hunchback of Notre Dame was a strapping man); and how much money he would one day inherit. Well, not even Tara could argue with the last point.
“Did she also mention that I’m a fantastic dancer?” Brad asked, apparently oblivious to her sarcastic remark.
“I wish I could, but you know, these shoes, they’re killing me,” she lied. “I can barely keep standing, let alone dancing. You deserve a better dance partner than me.” One that wasn’t creeped out by
the thought of being touched by him.
“Just one dance. And then I’ll make sure you’ll get off your feet,” he insisted, winking conspiratorially.
Oh my God, did he actually think he was flirting with her? And worse: was he planning on cornering her somewhere in a room, alone? Was that what he meant by getting her off her feet?
“I’d rather not.”
“Oh come on! Just the one.”
“Didn’t you hear the lady?” a menacing voice interrupted them. “She doesn’t want to dance.”
Tara snapped her head to the interloper. Or should she call him intruder? Dressed as a waiter, he held an empty tray in one hand.
“Jay.”
“How dare you interrupt my conversation?” Brad growled. “Do your work and don’t bother me. Don’t you know who I am?” Arrogance dripped from Brad’s voice.
“I don’t care who the fuck you are. Leave Tara alone. She doesn’t want to dance. Not with you, anyway!”
Jay pressed the tray in Brad’s hands and reached for Tara’s arm. “We need to talk.”
Still stunned by his unexpected appearance, she allowed him to drag her through the throng of people in the large living area, navigating to the dance floor that had been created on the terrace. The moment they reached it, Jay pulled her into his arms and led her in a slow foxtrot.
“What are you doing here?” she hissed underneath her breath. “Playing waiter again to snare another unsuspecting woman into your net?”
Jay drew her even closer to him, his grip like a steel vice from which she couldn’t escape. Maybe she should have taken her chances with Brad instead.
“I came to stop you from making a monumental mistake.”
“Like the one I made with you? Don’t worry, I learn from my mistakes. I’m not gonna fall for the same trick twice.”
“It wasn’t a trick,” he gritted between clenched teeth. “But what you’re doing now is a mistake. You shouldn’t be here. This is not where you’ll find the man who’s right for you. Or was it all a lie when you said you didn’t want a rich guy?”
She pulled back, trying to free herself from his arms, but he drew her back without much effort. “You’re one to talk about lying.”
“Then what are you doing here, pandering to your parents’ wishes? Weren’t you the one who wanted independence from them? So you could make your own decisions? I hadn’t expected you to cave so easily.”
Tara glared at him. “How dare you! It’s easy for you to talk about independence and making your own decisions. You don’t have to live off your parents’ money.”
A strange expression passed over his face. “No, I don’t. I never did.”
“Well, then don’t tell me I’m caving easily. You would cave too if you couldn’t get a job to support yourself.”
He scoffed. “You could easily get a job with your skills. I’ve seen your portfolio. You have talent. Your designs stand out from the crowd.”
“What?” Was he actually paying her a compliment?
“You’ll be a wonderful designer if you only set your mind to it.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You bastard! You’re saying this to soften me up, aren’t you? Of all the rotten things you could say, that’s the lowest.”
“I’m not lying. I believe in you. And I’ll prove it to you.”
“Oh yeah, how?” she challenged him.
“I’ll make you a deal.” His gaze drifted past her to the interior of the house. “We don’t have much time. Your admirer is bringing reinforcements. They’ll be throwing me out as soon as they find me.”
He made a quick turn, dancing past another couple. The man was as tall as Jay and would provide some cover, but not for long.
“What deal?”
“Give me four days to prove to you that I’m not like the other rich guys, that I’m just like the guy you met. I’ll prove to you that the man you spent time with on the boat is the real Jay.”
“And how’s that going to prove anything? All you’re gonna do is turn on your charm and get me into bed. It’s not gonna change anything.”
“If at the end of the four days, you’re not convinced that I’m different and want to leave me, I’ll set you up with your own design business and refer you to so many clients that you’ll be busy for the next twenty years.”
She stared at him, her mouth dropping open. The music was still playing, but Jay wasn’t dancing anymore. He was simply holding her in his arms and staring at her.
“Make your decision. They’ve just found us. You have about thirty seconds before they haul me away.”
Tara gazed past him, spotting Brad flanked by two security people. Just behind them, her father reared his head. He’d seen her, too. And he was on his way. He didn’t look pleased. Not only would the Willamotts’ security people forcefully remove Jay, her father would read her the riot act.
“Ah, shit!” she cursed.
“Tara? Your answer.”
“Fine. You’ve got four days.”
As soon as the last word left her lips, Jay pulled her to the opposite side of the dance floor. Then he paved a way through the people crowding around the outside bar and charged past it, dipping through an opening in the tent that covered the bar.
“Where are we going?” Tara asked, a little bit panicked. Had she made the right decision?
“To my boat.”
“And then?”
“We’re going to visit my past.”
23
Rather than navigating around the northern tip of Long Island to get to the Atlantic, which would have cost him easily an additional two hours, Jay headed south through Peconic Bay and then made his way through the Shinnecock Canal, the yacht gliding smoothly through the water.
“They’ll come after us, you know,” Tara now said, standing next to him on the flybridge.
Jay glanced at her from the side. “They’ll figure out very quickly who whisked their daughter away and do nothing at all.” After all, he was richer than the entire Willamott family, and Tara’s parents would quickly realize that he was a much better match for their daughter than Brad Willamott.
“And let me go off with a penniless waiter? I don’t think so. They’ll move heaven and earth to stop me from making a huge mistake.”
“Waiter? Didn’t you tell them who I am?”
“Why should I? Don’t you think I felt humiliated enough?”
“Why would you feel humiliated?”
She braced her hands at her hips. “You don’t get it, do you?”
“I don’t think I do.”
“The first time in my life I defy my parents, and what happens? I rebel with a rich guy! Pathetic. Can you imagine the laugh my parents would have if they found out?”
Jay chuckled involuntarily. “So you didn’t tell them. You let them believe I’m a poor working class guy who doesn’t have two nickels to rub together?”
She lifted her shoulders in a so-what gesture.
“Remind me never to get on your bad side, Tara.”
“You already are on my bad side. Don’t kid yourself. The only reason I’m here is because I want independence from my parents. Or was your offer just a trick?”
“No trick. I stand by my word. If you decide you want to leave me after four days, I’ll set you up with your own business. But I hope you’ll stay and give me another chance.”
“So what are you planning? Four days of sex, thinking that will sway me?”
As much as he liked the idea, that wasn’t his plan. “I’m afraid that would be the wrong approach. I’m not going to sleep with you until you’ve changed your mind about me.” He motioned to the cabin below. “We won’t be sleeping in the same bed. I’ve prepared a sleeping cabin for you. Your bag is still here. I got you a few more things, additional clothes and toiletries for the trip so you’ll feel comfortable.”
Tara stared at him in disbelief. “You went shopping for me?”
“Don’t say it as if you’ve never heard of a man going shopp
ing.”
“You surprise me, Jay.”
He grinned. “Well, that’s a start. Why don’t you go down to the cabin and get changed?” He ran his eyes over her figure-hugging red dress. “Not that I don’t love the way you look, but it’s going to get breezy. I got you a few sweaters and a windbreaker.”
“Sure.” She turned.
“Oh, and could you maybe grab my blue jacket, too? It’s hanging on a hook in the main cabin.”
“Okay.” She walked down the stairs and disappeared from sight.
Jay shed his tuxedo jacket and hung it over the backrest of the high seat behind the wheel. By the time Tara came back, he’d programmed their destination into the navigation system of the yacht and set the autopilot.
Tara looked gorgeous in the white linen pants, the blue tank top and the blue-and-white windbreaker he’d bought for her.
“You bought me boat shoes.”
He looked down to her feet. She wore blue-and-white Nautica shoes. “I didn’t want you to walk on the yacht in high heels. It ruins the veneer.”
Not that he cared. After all, he could always have the deck resurfaced. But it was dangerous not to have a good footing on a boat. An unexpected wave could knock Tara off her feet if she wasn’t wearing the right shoes.
“I could have just worn my flip-flops.”
He tossed her a slightly annoyed look. “Just accept my little gift. It’s the least I could do for not giving you a chance to pack.”
Tara seemed embarrassed about that. “Thanks. Oh, and here’s your jacket.”
She handed it to him, and he slipped it on. Later, he’d get changed and wear something more comfortable, but right now he wanted to put as much distance between them and whoever was going to pursue them. Surely, Tara’s parents would be on their tail to save their daughter from a most unsuitable man.
“I hope the cabin works for you,” he said, just to make conversation and put Tara at ease.
“Actually…” She hesitated.
“Is there a problem?”
“It’s nothing you can fix. It’s just when the door is closed you can’t fully open the closet door to the right of it. It rubs against the handle. Really badly thought out. I mean, it looks great, really, but it’s not very functional.”
