by Kristen Echo
“I don’t have time for this.” Cherie pushed her stool out of the way and marched towards the sink.
It was one of those farmhouse sinks that Gwen loved. The kitchen was modern but not overly big. It was Gwen’s favorite room in the condo. Cherie poured out the rest of her coffee and rinsed the cup before putting it in the dishwasher.
“I’m sorry. You don’t have to fill in all the details. I’m curious when you bumped into my ex. You said nothing last time we talked.” She tugged on a thread from her shorts. “Does he work at your firm or something?”
“Spencer Northcote doesn’t work for anyone,” she answered. “Why do you care? You two dated a million years ago.”
This was true but seeing him had brought back all the old feelings. The good and the bad. Then there was his offer to help, and she wondered how he could do that. “Does he work in—”
“Stop fishing for information from me and look him up. Spencer owns half the city. Maybe even the country. There won’t be a shortage of articles.” Cherie shot her a look as if the entire world knew this.
“What do you mean he owns the city?”
“Google the man. He’s a self-made billionaire who gives a ton to charities. That’s how we… whatever. Like I said, I have to go.” She stomped out of the room without providing more details.
A billionaire?
Her sister had to be exaggerating. Gwen leaned on the counter, trying to reconcile the boy she knew with the man Cherie described. When they’d met, Spencer was a college kid with big dreams and a lot of ambition. His family had money. They’d lived in a nice house in an affluent neighborhood, but they weren’t millionaires. She reached over, spun the laptop around and opened it.
A quick search provided thousands of articles. Her sister was right. Spencer was a big deal. The top caption provided a picture of him holding the Stanley Cup. He owned an NHL team. An entire freaking team! Her eyes bugged out as she stared at his smiling face. His mouth was sinful. Perfect straight teeth surrounded by luscious, kissable lips. Damn, he was a good-looking man.
Exactly what the world needed, another rich asshole. She stuck her tongue out at the screen, pretending he could see her. Sex appeal and money didn’t change the fact he was still a jerk. She closed the search browser.
If she googled herself, there might be two results. The one time she ran the half-marathon, and a media press release she’d delivered for an addiction center’s grand opening the previous year. Her and Spencer were from two different worlds. One plus from the search was she no longer doubted he had connections in the city.
Hopefully, she wouldn’t need his help. He was the past and should stay there locked away as the first of many mistakes. She wanted nothing from him. With any luck, she’d be able to put him out of her mind and never see or think of him again. Her resume was filled with experience. Someone was bound to need her. Gwen opened a new webpage and hunted for work.
The morning flew by as she searched online. Only a handful of resumes and applications got submitted. There weren’t many places looking for help. It was discouraging, but she put on a brave face when her daughter finally emerged from the shower.
“What are we doing today?” Wes asked as she fastened her watch over the mark on her left wrist.
Gwen quickly looked away. “Anything you want. Well, as long as it doesn’t cost anything.”
“If we need money so bad, I could get a job. It’s not a big deal.”
“Don’t worry about it yet. I want you to concentrate on you. Relax for a little while. Wait till we find a place and have a permanent address. Don’t be in a rush to grow up,” she added with a faint smile.
Westlyn didn’t return the gesture. “I’m not a child who can’t help. Granted my savings from last summer are gone, but you can’t do everything.”
An exaggerated gasp escaped, and she clutched her chest. “Are you saying I’m no longer Super Mom?”
Her comment earned a giggle. No sweeter sound existed on the planet.
“You’re still my hero.” Wes plopped onto the stool next to her. “It’s important for me to make my own way too. I liked working at that daycare last summer and over winter break. I had planned to go back before…” Her eyes drifted towards her hands. She hid them under the counter and sighed. “We moved,” she finished.
“I’d rather you enjoy your last summer as a carefree kid. You’ll have plenty of time to help out and be a responsible adult.”
“School is over. So, I should get a job,” Wes shot back, rising to her feet. The long, striped maxi dress she wore caressed the tiles as she headed for the coffee. “Since we’re staying here, I’m simply giving you a heads up. It’s not a request.”
Her counter argument teetered on her tongue, and Gwen swallowed it when a knock sounded at the door. She jumped off her seat at the unexpected noise. “I’ve got it,” she said, clutching her chest as she headed for the door.
Peering through the peephole, she saw a young man wearing a courier bag slung over his shoulder. He knocked again and rang the bell. Her eyes focused on the large plastic envelope in his hand. She unlocked the door and opened it. “Hello.”
“Are you Gwen Eastman?” He held out a device for her to sign.
“That’s me,” she answered and signed her name with the stylus where he pointed.
He handed her the package and left without another word. She stared at it as she closed the door and returned to the kitchen. Who would send her something? Who even knew she was there. It had to be something from Cherie, except the top corner of the package had the Puck Battle emblem. The double hockey sticks were tough to miss.
“For you?” Westlyn took the envelope from her hand and tore it open after Gwen nodded.
Two cell phones slid onto the counter along with a note.
Both women reached for the note at the same time, but Wes was faster. “It’s addressed to you from someone named Spencer,” she read out loud. “You and your daughter should have forms of communication while you’re in the city. Consider them my welcome back gift. My number is programmed into the contacts. We’ll be in touch soon.”
“Give me that.” Gwen snatched the paper from her daughter’s hand and reread it. Three times.
He’d given them brand new iPhones. One white and one silver. Before she could say they would return the extravagant gifts, her daughter had ripped off the protective peel and was typing away.
“Do you know the WiFi password? After I set up this one, I’ll work on the other one for you. I’m not sure who Spencer is, but I like him,” she said without looking up from the phone. “Already the friends you have here are better than the ones back home.”
Gwen didn’t agree. She couldn’t speak and stood clutching the paper, expecting it would provide more information. When that didn’t help, she paced the kitchen. Several minutes passed and then the white phone rang. The sound reverberated on the counter and bounced off the cabinets, causing her to jump.
Spencer’s name flashed on the screen. This time she beat Wes and gripped the phone before her daughter answered. The lights flashed, and it rang again. But she didn’t answer. She had nothing to say to him. Knowing she couldn’t avoid him forever, she left the kitchen and padded her way towards the bedroom. She needed privacy to deal with him.
A text followed.
“I know you have the phone. Answer it.”
She laughed as once again it rang. This time, she answered. “Persistent aren’t you.”
“You have no idea,” he responded with a deep velvety voice that made her insides quiver. “How are you?”
When was the last time anyone asked how she was doing? Other than Wes, no one cared. Most days she barely cared.
“I’m hanging in there. The gifts are too much,” she stated. “They will be returned as soon as I figure out the return address. It’s not okay Spencer.”
What he’d done in the past wasn’t okay and neither was buying her presents to make up for it. He couldn’t buy his way ba
ck into her good graces.
“It’s a gift. You can thank me at dinner this evening. A car will be downstairs to pick you and your daughter up at five.”
She smiled at the fact he invited Westlyn too. That tiny bit of thoughtfulness reminded her of the Spencer she’d fallen for. “What if we already have plans?”
“Do you?”
He was missing the point. She didn’t want to see him. “No, but—”
“See you soon.” He hung up before she argued.
A trip down memory lane was the last thing she needed in her life. She rubbed her temples as the onset of a headache bloomed. Her initial reaction to call him back and refuse subsided when she heard Wes singing from the other room. The melodic tune made her smile.
Instead of rejecting the invitation, she’d leave it up to the girl belting out lyrics. Dinner with Spencer would only happen if Wes wanted to go. She prayed her daughter wouldn’t be interested.
Chapter 4
At five o’clock sharp, they stood on the lobby as a black stretched limousine parked in front of the building. The sun reflected off the shiny surface, forcing her to squint. Gwen squared her shoulders, preparing to see him again. She hadn’t been ready the previous night. Instead of two-day-old travel clothes, she wore a casual wrap dress with a tropical pattern. Her hair was curled and hung loosely around her shoulders. A base coat of mascara covered her thick lashes, and she had applied a splash of pink color to her lips. Too much makeup might give him the wrong impression and her intent was to keep things professional.
This wasn’t a date. She didn’t understand what this was or why she had agreed to dinner. Spencer did not deserve her time, but it was the quickest way to return the phones.
“Awesome,” Wes said, pushing off the lobby wall. “I’ve never been inside a limo before.”
“Me either.” Her hands shook as she opened the door and stepped outside.
The parking lot was almost empty. The heat and humidity enveloped her instantly. A bead of sweat dripped down her spine.
Why was she nervous? This was not a date, she reminded herself for the twentieth time.
The young driver raced to greet them. “Hello,” he said, tipping his hat towards them and opening the door.
Her heart beat faster as she searched the back seat. It was empty. Spencer wasn’t there. Shuffling inside after her daughter, she sighed. This man was full of surprises. She pulled his phone from her purse and found his contact information.
Wes looked around the inside of the car with wide eyes. “Where’s your friend?”
“He’s not my friend,” Gwen shot back. She’d briefly explained their history, hoping the knowledge would sway her daughter to decline the invitation. It had backfired. Wes was eager to meet her ex-boyfriend and hear what he had to say.
“Whatever.” Her daughter rolled her eyes and buckled her seat belt. “I thought you said we were going out for dinner with him?”
The driver settled into his seat and glanced back at them. “I’ve been instructed to bring you to Mr. Northcote’s estate. It’s not too far from here. There’s a variety of beverages available in the mini fridge if you’re thirsty and snacks if you’re hungry. Would you prefer I close the partition?”
“You can leave it as is and thank you,” Gwen replied. She put the phone away and then turned towards her daughter. “We’re not even going out to a restaurant. You’ll be super bored since all I plan to talk about is work. I can do that over the phone. We can go back—”
“Not a chance, Mom.” Wes grabbed a bottle of water as the limo moved forward towards their destination. “Despite your best efforts, I want to meet this guy. I’ve met all your other boyfriends. Except my dad.” She shrugged her shoulders like it didn’t matter.
As much as Gwen wished she’d moved on quickly after dating Spencer, that hadn’t happened. The giant gaping hole in her chest had taken the distance two provinces provided and years to heal. When she met Wallen, she felt like she’d finally moved past the hurt. He was much older, worldly, philanthropic and passionate. She’d found love and this time it was real. When the pregnancy test came back positive, he’d been overjoyed. Unfortunately, a month before she gave birth, he was killed in a car accident. He never got the chance to hold his daughter and see her grow into a beautiful young woman. After him, it had been years before she had the courage to date. To be honest, she never fully put herself out there again.
“You hated all those men. What makes you think this one would be any different?” She pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow.
“For starters, none of them bought you anything. Not that a man has to buy your affection, but it wouldn’t hurt you to date someone who isn’t digging his way out of the gutters. You can’t help everyone.”
“Ouch,” she replied, rubbing the pretend wound over her heart. “And I’m not dating Spencer. We dated. Past tense. I won’t repeat… never mind, he’s not interested in me that way. He’s helping an old friend find a job. End of story.”
Wes rolled her eyes again. “Keep telling yourself that.” She put on her headphones, ending the conversation.
Muffled beats filled the silence. With furrowed brows, Gwen dismissed her daughter’s overzealous imagination. Men like Spencer weren’t interested in dating women in their forties. He probably dated young models and actresses. Not that she cared.
“Let’s get this over with,” she mumbled.
No way Spencer was interested in rekindling anything. At least she hoped not because that ship had sailed and had sank to the bottom of the ocean. Yet, as every mile brought them closer, her stomach flipped like they were riding waves. She felt ready to vomit when the limo passed an iron gate and turned onto a sprawling, circular driveway.
The grounds were perfectly manicured. Trimmed shrubs, freshly cut grass and colorful flower beds greeted them. It was impressive without being pretentious or gaudy.
“Welcome to the Northcote estate,” the driver announced as he parked in front of Spencer’s mansion.
The two-story home cast a shadow over the entry. At the top of the steps leading to the front door, stood Spencer. He was holding the hand of a young girl with long blonde curls. The pair smiled brightly as she stepped out of the car.
“I’m glad you could make it.” Spencer winked, and her heart skipped a beat.
Gwen shuffled forward, making room for Wes to emerge. “Thanks for having us. It’s good to be here,” she replied, taking her arm for support.
Her daughter whistled as she took in the opulence. She removed her headphones, draping them around the back of her neck. The girl never went anywhere without music. “That’s not what you said… ouch!”
Wes looked at her mom and rubbed the nail marks in her forearm where Gwen had pinched her. A smirk followed. “Nice place. I’m Westlyn,” she said, marching forward up the stairs and dragging Gwen with her. She held out her hand to greet the child first, but the young girl shied away, hiding behind her father’s back.
“I’m Spencer and this angel is my daughter, Connie.” He shook Westlyn’s outstretched hand. “Don’t take it personally, but she won’t shake hands. I’m surprised she joined me out here to be honest. Connie’s not fond of new situations. She takes a while to adjust to new faces as well.”
“Well, it’s great to meet you Connie. You don’t have to shake my hand if you don’t want to.” Wes let go of Spencer’s hand and dropped on one knee to be eye level with the young girl who was still hiding. “I’m not a big fan of it either. It’s too formal. I prefer to fist bump or just a wave. You know?”
Gwen smiled at her daughter and the thoughtfulness of her actions. She followed her lead and kneeled next to her. “Hi Connie, I’m Gwen. I like hugs better than handshakes. Sometimes meeting new people can be a bit much. I’m really glad you came out to greet us.”
Connie peeked around her father and eyed them. Her big blue eyes were so innocent. “I like hugs. I like the violin too. My sister plays in a band and she’s good. We go se
e her play sometimes when it’s not too late. I play the piano, and I always practice before dinner. Want to hear?”
“I would love to hear you play.” Gwen rose to her feet.
Connie let go of Spencer and raced into the house. “Follow me.” Her little legs moved quickly.
Spencer laughed and held the door open for them. “We’re right behind you. Slow down, sweetie.”
Wes ran after the young girl, leaving Gwen alone with her ex. “She’s lovely and she has your eyes.”
“I see more of her mother when I look at her, which is a good thing. I should mention that Connie has Asperger’s and works best with routines. Your daughter seems good with kids. Not many people can get her to talk in a first meeting.”
“She loves kids. Her first job was at a daycare,” Gwen said, stepping into the foyer which was larger than their previous apartment in Vancouver. The walls were lined with framed artwork. She recognized a few famous pieces and doubted they were replicas. She knotted her fingers, afraid to touch anything.
Spencer grabbed hold of her hand and threaded their fingers. “Your daughter is the spitting image of you when we met. Absolutely beautiful. Do you have any other children?”
They walked towards the melody drifting down the hall. “Only Westlyn. She’s my world,” she answered as they entered a large room with a baby grand piano in the center. The acoustics were phenomenal. Connie sat on the bench and her fingers floated across the keys. Wes stood next to her as a hauntingly beautiful song filled the room.
After the third perfectly played tune, Gwen nudged Spencer’s shoulder with her arm. She’d been so caught up in the music she hadn’t noticed they were still holding hands. “How old is she?” she whispered. “She’s so talented.”
“She’s nine going on nineteen,” he answered, pulling her towards the door.
He glanced over his shoulder. “Connie, play one to two more tops, then meet us in the backyard. I will take Gwen and Westlyn on a quick tour.”
Wes shook her head. “If it’s all right, I’d like to hear her finish? I promise I’ll follow Connie outside when she’s done.”
