by Drea Stein
He looked at her carefully. Could she be jealous? He wondered why that thought would lift his spirits.
“It’s none of my business,” she said too quickly.
“You know you can’t believe everything you read in the papers,” he told her.
“Who said I read those kinds of papers?”
Noah smiled. Caitlyn had a weakness for the gossip pages.
“Well, that’s good then. I wouldn’t want my reputation to proceed me.” He actually hoped she hadn’t. The press had been all over his relationship with Lakota Reynolds. She had been a nice girl, beautiful of course, but not as talented as she was made out to be. Funny thing was she had known it, which was why her Plan B had been Noah. A rich man’s wife. Sure, she promised to be a good one, but Noah didn’t want someone who wanted him for his money. Even if she had been honest about it.
“Of course, I am sure you’ll get a lot of press about last night.”
“Not me. It’s Tony’s place. I’m just the silent partner. But I’ll always get a table. And free appetizers.”
She looked at him. “What about a percentage of the profits?”
Noah laughed. “Tony said there wouldn’t be any. At least for a year. So I get free apps instead.”
“I hope you made a better deal when you sold your company,” Caitlyn said. Her eyes were worried.
Noah reached out and took her hand. He felt her wanting to take it back, felt the heat crawling up his skin, and not because she had been running.
“Don’t worry; I did. I can afford to work on my passion projects now.”
She laughed. “That sounds very Californian of you. Are you sure you want to move back east? I think we’re a little more serious-minded here.”
Noah took a step closer to her, so that they were almost touching, not just his hand and her arm, but just inches away, face-to-face. He felt his breath quicken as he looked into the deep blue of her eyes, wanting to brush back a curl of the black hair that escaped from her cap, twine it around his fingers, feel its softness.
Her back was against the solid bulk of the rock, and he had her caged by his arms. Her cheeks were flushed, and he could hear the heavy sounds of her breath. He took one hand and slowly undid the zipper of her fleece, exposing an ivory v of skin where her shirt dipped down.
Caitlyn watched him, eyes locked with his. He didn’t know what she was thinking, but she wasn’t making a move. Noah took that as an invitation and trailed his fingertip against her exposed skin. Just skimming it along, but he saw her eyes flash as she convulsed.
“You were saying something about being serious,” he whispered, leaning in over her. Even now she smelled clean, fresh, a hint of apple, maybe something lemony.
“I don’t remember…” Her hands went up, running up his arms, tracing the breadth of his shoulders, coming to rest around his neck. She looked at him a moment, invitation in her eyes. Noah went for it, bringing his lips down to meet hers. She rose up to meet him, their lips joining. At first, it was slow and hesitant, but all of a sudden he wanted more, all of her, the part of Caitlyn he’d never gotten. He pushed her up against the rock, raising her up so she was on his level, letting him kiss her, harder now. He could feel her fingers running through his hair and the soft murmur of his name that became a moan.
“Noah…”
And then it became “No, no.” He stopped, suddenly jumping away from her. His breath was coming hard and fast, and he could feel himself aroused.
“God, Caitlyn, what are you doing?” he said, running his fingers through his hair. It was chilly this morning, and he suddenly noticed the wind whipping in from the water, the sand dancing in the air.
“What am I doing?” Her eyes flashed and she took a step forward and then back from him, so she was clear to run. “You’re the one who…”
“What?” he asked. He was calmer now, watching her. Surely he hadn’t been imagining the want in her face, the desire he’d felt.
“It can’t be this way.”
“What way?” He was puzzled.
“We’re not teenagers anymore, Noah. I’m not going to shag you on Sailor’s Rock for the whole world to see.”
“Oh, so you mean you were considering it?” Noah felt himself getting ready again, but Caitlyn held up her hand.
“We snuck around once. I won’t do it again. Noah, you’re my boss. Been there, done that.” Caitlyn started to back away from him, her feet sinking into the stony sand.
“Who said anything about sneaking around? In case you haven’t noticed, there’s no one left to sneak around for. But you always were terribly interested in what other people thought,” Noah said.
The arrow hit home, and she spun around. “Just because I didn’t want to throw our relationship in everyone’s face didn’t mean I didn’t want to be with you.”
“You were too afraid to stand up to an old man. You were tease then, and you’re a tease now.”
Noah didn’t know why he was shouting. Last night, when she’d been dancing, it had been all he could do not to step in and break the guy’s nose. It had hit him then. No matter what, he still thought of Caitlyn as his girl. And he wanted her, desperately, all over again.
Her face went white, as if he had slapped her, and then it changed. All the anger drained out of it, and he saw only sadness.
“No, Noah. You never understood. He was all I had. He didn’t want me fooling around with you, didn’t want me making the same mistakes as my mother. I just needed time, and you were pushing too hard, too hard for a commitment I couldn’t make. You’re the one who thought it was because I didn’t love you enough. But you were wrong. It was because I loved you too much.”
Caitlyn turned and walked away, feet crunching on the beach. Noah felt like he’d been sucker punched, but he knew that he couldn’t go after her.
Chapter 26
Caitlyn was late to work, but only by a few minutes. She kept a smile plastered on her face, but inside she was seething. How dare he accuse her of being a tease again? And the kiss? What had he been thinking? What had she been thinking? It had made her feel, like what? Like a teenager again, like when he used to kiss her in the boathouse, on the eighth green of the golf course, just about anywhere they could sneak away to.
Her grandfather had been so set against the relationship, for so many reasons. One had to be the memory of her mother. Don’t let history repeat itself, he’d told her, and Caitlyn had swallowed, trying to see past the implication that she was a mistake. Her grandfather had simply wanted her to wait, to be herself before she became wrapped up in one person.
Caitlyn had known from a young age that boys were only out for one thing. It had been drilled into her by her grandfather. But all of that careful indoctrination had gone out the window when she met Noah. She’d always had her eye on him, even though he was two years older. He’d always been confident, smooth, a guy with a vision, a plan. She had been eighteen, waiting for college to begin, bored with Queensbay, and he had been twenty, primed to quit college and head out to California, ready to get on with his life. She had been just back from Paris and ready for adventure.
She sunk into her chair and just sat there, not even turning on her computer. Why did she still have feelings for him? Ten years later, other men, a whole career, even an engagement, and it was still Noah Randall who made her palms sweat, her heart pump and her breath catch. She could go out with anyone she wanted to, nice, uncomplicated guys who knew nothing about her past, like that banker from last night, Kevin. She should go for it. A nice, normal guy, no complications.
She didn’t need Noah Randall, and their history, clouding her brain. Not to mention her present and future. No matter what he said, he was still technically her boss. And dating the boss was stupid, a lesson she had learned from Michael St. John.
Caitlyn shook her head to clear it and booted up her computer. She had work to do, real work. And that’s what mattered.
There were a list of messages, some from people she had met
last night, one from the persistent Mrs. Smith-Sullivan and two from Michael. Those she crumpled up. She thought she’d made it very clear she didn’t want to speak to him again. Mrs. Smith-Sullivan needed to be called back. It could have just been a simple mistake, but the more Caitlyn thought about it, the more it seemed she should dig a little further. But there were things to do first.
Caitlyn called in Heather and handed her the stack of business cards from the previous night.
“If I could, I would give you a raise, but you’ll just have to settle for my thanks – the makeover you gave me made sure I was pretty popular last night.”
Heather smiled warmly. “I suppose it would be crossing a line if I asked if you got lucky?”
“Hopefully only in landing a few new accounts. Remember, love fades, but money is forever.”
“That’s not very romantic,” Heather pointed out.
Caitlyn laughed, glad she could. “Following my heart has only ever gotten it broken. More than once, so guess what? I’ll take a fat bank account any day. So here you go. Can you go through these and send them all our marketing kit? Overnight them and make sure they go out by noon, if you can. I’m going to start making some phone calls, so it would be great if I wasn’t disturbed.”
“Sure thing, boss.”
Caitlyn dialed Mrs. Biddle’s number first. Marion answered the phone and said Adriana had gone to visit Mr. Biddle. Caitlyn asked for her favorite champagne and wrote it down. She ordered a gift basket of fruit and champagne from the liquor store and arranged to have it delivered that day, along with a thank-you note.
Caitlyn looked at her watch. It was time to call Tony Biddle. He picked up on the first ring, sounding not the least bit tired, and they chatted, Caitlyn inquiring how the rest of the party had gone.
“Great. Have you seen the papers?”
Caitlyn said she had not.
“I got a mention in the Daily News, and there were people from the Times and Bon Ton. Here’s hoping we’ll see some pictures next month. Addie was fabulous. She gave a little interview on all of her work over the years, connecting artists and their society patrons.”
Caitlyn made a mental note to mention that to Adriana when she spoke to her next, and then artfully, she steered the conversation around to her primary reason for calling.
“I would like to put together a presentation for you, something to show what we can do for you. Would next Tuesday be all right? I can meet you in the city or,” Caitlyn could hear him flipping through the pages of an appointment book, “you could come out here.”
“I am supposed to see my uncle and Addie.” She could hear him musing, thinking.
“How about lunch? Then you can visit them in the afternoon,” Caitlyn suggested.
“Perfect.”
They set the date, and Caitlyn wrote it down, trying to contain her excitement. She would have a lot of work to do between now and then if she wanted to land Tony Biddle as a client.
Caitlyn returned some other calls and made more appointments, answered questions and was generally well pleased with herself by the time lunch rolled around. In the next two weeks, she had five meetings scheduled with potential clients. If she managed to get half of them – well, hell, if she managed to get Tony Biddle – then she would be well set for the future. Her strategy, developed and honed in London, was showing signs of traveling well.
There was an interoffice package envelope to her. It was silly, since the whole firm only took up one floor, but some people still used them.
“Sorry for how we left things. Let’s start over. Will you have dinner with me? Check the box Yes or No.”
She almost burst out laughing at that. Worded like a high school note, it was designed to evoke memories of when things were easier between the two of them. Taking her pen, she checked off the “No,” put it back in the envelope and gave it to Heather to send back.
Her fingers brushed against her lips gently, as if she could remember it, the burn of his lips against hers.
<< >>
Caitlyn looked up from the papers that were spread all over her desk. She was still putting together Tony’s presentation, spending too much time on it. He was coming the next week. She had put everything out of her mind, focusing instead on what she needed to do now.
“Don’t forget you have that meeting with Mrs. Smith-Sullivan, the one she insisted on scheduling,” Heather told her, her head poking through the open door.
Caitlyn swore. It was this afternoon, and there was no way she was going to be able to make it. “Could you please call and reschedule?”
Caitlyn turned back to the work on her desk, focused on the information in front of her. There was something she was still struggling to understand. From what she could tell, Tony’s empire might not be as impressive as the media claimed. His restaurants were always crowded, and they charged a hefty fee for the privilege of being seen there.
However, Tony didn’t seem very good at keeping much of that money. He was always borrowing to expand, and he didn’t seem to have all that much in other banks or accounts. Of course, she couldn’t be sure of this until he allowed them to look deeper, but it was part of her best guess. Tony didn’t need any special deals – he needed Finance 101.
Caitlyn stretched. Her grandfather had been a big advocate of Finance 101, a basic common-sense approach. Slow and steady wins the race. Tony needed to pay himself first, diversify into holdings other than houses, cars and boats, and look into safe and boring stocks and bonds.
She put together her plan, even selecting a picture of a fat, happy and self-satisfied tortoise to put on the cover.
Chapter 27
The next few days flew by in a rush of work, and when she finally left the office, she realized it was Friday and she had no plans. She decided to walk along Main Street in the village and see if anything caught her fancy for dinner. She had worked late enough that even the idea of heating up her own dinner held no appeal to her.
She had been working diligently on her accounts, keeping her head down, trying to avoid Noah. Sure, he made excuses to bump into her in the hallway, and once there had even been an awkward moment at the coffee machine until Heather interrupted them. He had left early tonight, and she figured that he was probably heading out to hang with Chase; at least, that’s what she hoped. Kevin, from the club opening, had called her twice but had gotten the message after her polite but firm brush-offs.
Distracted by the sight of a chocolate cake in the window of the bakery, Caitlyn didn’t see Marion, Mrs. Biddle’s housekeeper, who was walking down the street and smiling until she was actually upon her.
“Well, we were just thinking about you,” Marion said, by way of hello. “Adriana tried to call you at your office to invite you for dinner.”
Caitlyn smiled and stamped her feet for warmth.
“Please come. Adriana could use some company. You don’t have any other plans, do you?”
“I couldn’t impose.” Caitlyn knew she was being silly. Marion lived to feed people.
“Nonsense,” Marion said. “She already called your office, but you weren’t there. She’ll be so happy to see you. We’re having my famous pot roast, and my chocolate cake that you used to like so much.”
Caitlyn wavered. Marion’s pot roast was no joke, a mouth watering, hearty dinner that she remembered from long ago. That, and the fact that all that awaited her at home was a frozen pizza for one, was enough to convince her.
“All right, dinner would be wonderful,” Caitlyn accepted, and Marion’s smile, if possible, grew wider as Caitlyn offered to carry her bags to the car for her. Marion chatted on, and Caitlyn let the wave of talk wash over her, a welcome relief from her other concerns.
<<>>
She had been blindsided by Adriana. All careful planning on the woman’s part, luring Caitlyn in for a friendly dinner in order to sic the ancient and not quite coherent Mrs. Smith-Sullivan on her.
Mrs. Smith-Sullivan claimed she was being robbed and could pr
ove it. Caitlyn had paid attention, under Adriana’s watchful eye, knowing that if she blew her off again, she would hear about it.
It was almost time for the chocolate cake before Mrs. Smith-Sullivan, also known as Sully to her friends, told the story.
“The money was not in my account.”
“What do you mean?” Caitlyn had tried to reach for another glass of wine, but Adriana had moved it just out of reach. Caitlyn shot her a look, but Adriana frowned at her. Listening to Sully required concentration.
They were sitting in Adriana’s elegant dining room, vaulted ceilings and wallpaper that held a menagerie of delicate birds on it.
“I went to get money from my account, and they said there wasn’t enough there. I told them they were mistaken.”
“Do you regularly get money from this account?” Caitlyn asked, her attention now engaged.
Sully shook her head and waited as Marion brought in the chocolate cake.
“No. I don’t really touch my Queensbay Capital account. I just let it grow and grow. Only this was a special occasion.”
“Her grandson got into medical school,” Adriana said, by way of explanation.
“And I wanted to give him some money for it,” Sully added.
Caitlyn nodded. “Congratulations.”
“So I went to get the money, a certified check, and they said there wasn’t enough money in the account. I was certain they were mistaken because the account has been doing quite well all of these years. Maxwell had assured me of that and, according to all of my statements, there was no reason why the money shouldn’t have been there.”
“Okay,” Caitlyn said carefully. She hoped it was all just a misunderstanding on Sully’s part.
“Well, I called and complained.”
“Who did you call?”
“Maxwell himself, of course. I wasn’t going to trust that imbecile Jeffrey. He was clearly not up to the task.”
Caitlyn didn’t disagree with Sully’s evaluation of Jeffrey. “And?”
“Well, Maxwell looked into it and said there must have been some mistake.”
