“You seem better today. Not like last night,” Connie said and urged Emma to the kitchen where the sound of Mrs. Patrick’s joyful humming filled the air. As they entered the kitchen, Mrs. Patrick turned away from the island where she had all the fixings for waffles.
“Good morning, my girls. How are you today?” she said. She settled her wizened gaze on Connie, and that made Emma examine Connie’s features again.
“You and Jon? Last night? This morning?” her friend said.
Heat erupted across Connie’s cheeks, and she covered them with her hands. “Do I have a scarlet letter A on my chest or something?”
Emma peered at her, as if searching for additional evidence confirming last night’s loving but apparently found none. That didn’t keep her friend from pushing for more. “Did you have too much to drink? Get carried away with all the wedding stuff? Or did you just go insane?”
Connie rolled her eyes and walked over to the island. Bowls of assorted berries and mascarpone sat beside a shaker with cinnamon sugar and a small jug of maple syrup. Mrs. Patrick handed Connie a plate with a duo of waffles straight off the iron, but she handed it back and said, “Please, you go first. I can make the next batch.”
The older woman didn’t argue, but as Connie took over making the waffles, Mrs. Patrick passed by and whispered, “She won’t let go of it that easily.”
Connie grabbed a ladle, filled it with batter, and went to work on another batch, but as the housekeeper had predicted, Emma stood across from her at the island, leaned her hands on the edge, and said, “Spill, Connie. What happened with Jon?”
With an exasperated sigh, she adopted a pose similar to Emma’s, hands braced on the counter. She arched her brow and said, “Do I look like the kind to kiss and tell?”
Emma laughed out loud. “OMG, the fact that you even say that tells me there was not only kissing involved but a lot, lot more.”
A flush warmed her cheeks again, but she tilted her chin up and met Emma’s gaze directly. “I wasn’t drunk, and I didn’t get carried away. Whether I’m insane is up for grabs. It kind of developed…organically,” she said a smile.
Emma barked out a laugh, and the tone of her voice had the ring of rising worry. “Organically? You mean like bullshit? That’s organic, isn’t it?”
Connie leaned across the island counter and grabbed hold of Emma’s hand. “It just happened, okay? I’m not sorry it did, and I’m not sure where it’s going to go. We’re going to play it by ear.”
Emma’s eyebrows shot up. “Play it by ear? Con, you never do anything spontaneous. Seriously, you even plan spontaneity.”
She chuckled because she couldn’t deny her friend’s statements. “I do plan everything, and it’s not easy to think about just going with the flow. It scares the shit out of me, especially with someone like Jon.”
“Because he broke your heart last time and you don’t want him to break it again,” Emma added and gave Connie’s hand a reassuring squeeze.
She nodded, and as she noticed the light on the iron go green, she took the waffles off it, put them on a plate, and passed it to Emma. “Yes, because of all that and more, but enough about me. What about you?”
Emma accepted the plate from Connie and blew out an exasperated sigh. “Carlo is a friend. Just a good friend,” she said while she loaded up the waffle with the mascarpone, berries, and a generous drizzle of maple syrup.
“A very handsome friend, Emma. Very responsible and caring as well. If I were younger, I’d be sure not to let a man like that get away,” Mrs. Patrick chimed in from the table where she was eating her waffles.
“Yes, he’s all those other things,” Emma replied as she sat down with her waffles.
“And you like his family too, and they like you,” Connie said and poured more batter onto the waffle iron for her breakfast.
“I do like his family,” Emma said reluctantly, but then she quickly tacked on, “But Carlo and I work together, and we’ve even talked about becoming partners. It would totally complicate everything if we got involved.”
Connie walked over to the nearby coffeepot, grabbed the carafe, poured cups for the three of them, and then sat down by Emma. “But he wants to be involved. Surely you can see that, Em. You see everything about the couples in your weddings, so you have to see how he feels about you.”
Emma laid down her fork and stared at her plate. Her tones were soft and tinged with pain as she said, “I see it. It hurts me to see it. I can’t be what he wants. There’s something broken inside me, and he deserves more than someone who can never be whole.”
Connie wrapped her arms around her friend, brought her close, and dropped a kiss on her temple. “He wants you. He understands you. And I know that he can fix whatever you think is broken inside.”
Emma sniffled and nodded. “I’ll think about it. It’s all I can promise.”
Connie smiled and hugged her hard again. “No matter what, we’ll be here for you.”
“And I’ll be here for you, Con. Don’t be afraid to give Jon a chance. He’s a good guy, and I don’t think he ever stopped loving you.”
And maybe I never stopped loving him, she thought. But that didn’t make it any easier to think about being with a man like Jonathan, who was the proverbial rolling stone, moving from one thing to the next. She’d seen what a man like that had been like in her own family. When her father came home, it would be quiet at first, but slowly, the pressure would build as his wanderlust took hold. Like water set to boil on the stove, the fights would start, growing larger and more frequent until her father’s need to escape would erupt and he’d be gone again.
When her father had gone for good, she’d felt relief, even if their lives had gotten harder in some respects. Money had been scarce, and her mother had worked herself nearly to death until her grandparents had finally relented and brought them into their fold.
She’d vowed never to know such poverty again but also never to fall for a man who wouldn’t be responsible and stick around.
She’d misjudged Jonathan seven years earlier when he’d said he wasn’t going to school, but his actions had been too reminiscent of her father.
She didn’t want to misjudge him again, but his escapades with his company’s products and his seemingly never-ending quest to try something new scared her. But it also scared her to think she would never feel with someone else what she felt with Jonathan.
Because of that, she’d give their organic relationship a try, even if it wasn’t something she normally did. Maybe you had to break the rules sometimes, she thought.
* * *
Jonathan hesitated at the front door of his family’s home, certain of the kind of reception he would get and yet unwilling to let his father drive him away from the place he loved. And, of course, Dudley and his laptop, just as Connie had surmised.
He turned the knob and opened the door. Hesitantly, he stepped inside, and Dudley’s happy barks and what sounded like a human laugh greeted him, only he couldn’t recall the last time he’d heard his father laugh. Or seen him smile for that matter, but as he walked through the house and toward the noise, he found his father feeding bits of bacon to Dudley.
“Sit, boy,” his father said. When Dudley complied and glanced up at him lovingly, his father patted him on the head, smiled, and offered him another piece of bacon. “That’s a good boy.”
To say Jonathan was shocked would be an understatement. He’d never seen his father so relaxed and, dare he say, happy. His father’s eyes looked a little swollen, as if maybe he’d been crying, although that was impossible. His father was a bitter, emotionless shell of a man.
“Father,” Jonathan said in greeting.
His dad didn’t look his way as he offered Dudley another treat and said, “I was wondering how long you’d stand there, looking like something the cat just dragged in.”
And there was
the nasty man he remembered. Before he could respond, his father said, “Is this little pup yours?”
“He is,” Jonathan said and approached the end of the table opposite his father. As he did so, Dudley raced to his side and sat at his feet, seemingly declaring his loyalty. With a little bark, Dudley demanded his attention, and Jonathan bent, rubbed the dog’s head, and said, “Who’s a good boy?”
The dog happily yipped and licked his hand as if in apology for his apparent defection, hoping that Jonathan understood the irresistible temptation of the bacon. Smiling, Jonathan rose and faced his father. “Owen and I were surprised you were here but didn’t come to the wedding.”
His father shrugged. “I didn’t want to be noticed.”
Jonathan raised his hands and spread his fingers in emphasis. “Big fail. Next time, don’t turn on the lights, or better yet, be human and celebrate your son’s happiness.”
The elder Pierce barked out a laugh and waved a bony, age-spotted hand. “Happiness? So you think this marriage is for real? I didn’t think Owen was that good a liar.”
Jonathan wanted to retort that his brother had so far been able to deceive their father into thinking the marriage was only about getting the Sinclair properties, but he held back. Owen was walking a precarious line with neither Maggie nor their father knowing the full truth. In time, he knew his brother would make things right. He couldn’t jeopardize that, no matter how much he wanted to prove his father wrong.
“So you came here to gloat? To savor putting the final nail in the Sinclair coffin?” Jonathan asked.
A sudden change came over his father as sadness crept onto his features. “I had my reasons,” he said but didn’t elaborate. Instead, he deflected just as Jonathan had done seconds earlier. “What are you doing here? This is not your home anymore.”
Stick the knife in and give it a twist, why don’t you? he thought, but he contained his hurt. It would please his father to know that he’d struck a vulnerable spot. With a careless shrug, he said, “It’s just a place to hang my hat. I’ll be out of here as soon as I change and round up my things.”
He didn’t wait for a reply, but it chased him out of the room. “I told you years ago that this wasn’t a place for you to drift to off and on while you tried to find yourself. Since that hasn’t changed, you’re not welcome here.”
His father hadn’t changed, he thought as he climbed the stairs, feeling way older than his years. He had hoped that his dad would one day see who he really was and all that he’d accomplished in the nearly eight years since he’d been disowned. It was time to move on to the next phase of his life and make a home for himself that wasn’t bogged down by past hurts and disappointments.
Chapter 14
They’d heard the squeal of wheels as Jonathan had raced out of his driveway on Sunday morning. Clearly, things hadn’t gone all that well with his father on Jonathan’s return to the Pierce mansion. She’d waited to text him a short message to find out if he’d gotten home okay. His brief reply confirmed it and nothing else. Nothing to indicate just what the next step would be in their “organically” developing relationship.
She tried driving him from her mind for the rest of the morning as she, Emma, Maggie’s dad, and Mrs. Patrick recovered from the wedding festivities. By early Sunday afternoon, she was packed and ready to go back to her condo in Jersey City. She thought about visiting her mom in nearby Union City, but her mother had always been able to read her like a book. She’d take one look at Connie’s face and know that something was up.
More than just one something, she thought. There was her job and what she planned on doing about the disappearing partnership possibilities. Jonathan. A surprisingly warm, fuzzy feeling swept through her at the thought that he might be back in her life. It was quickly replaced with a giant knot of worry at how long it might be before he got bored and moved on.
By Tuesday morning, she was wondering if he’d reconsidered and, worse, didn’t want to reach out to him first and make herself vulnerable. She’d settled on casual relationships with men for a long time, since her focus had been on her career. That had made her forget the anticipation and uncertainty that came with starting a real relationship.
Setting her coffee cup on her desk, she sat to tackle the matters needing her attention, and luckily, there was nothing pressing except a response from a headhunter who had reached out to her a year earlier. The recruiter had had a client looking for someone just like her for their legal department, but she’d passed on the opportunity because she’d thought she was going somewhere at her firm. Now she had to reconsider her plan.
She quickly answered the recruiter’s email and sent off a copy of the résumé she’d updated when she’d gotten home on Sunday. Hopefully, he’d have some positions that met her level of expertise and her salary requirements. She was paying off not only her own condo, but also part of the mortgage payments on her family’s house in Union City.
Turning to the first file on her desk, she reviewed the correspondence from their foreign counsel. She was about to draft a response when her phone rang. She recognized Jonathan’s number, answered, and walked to close her office door for some privacy.
“G’mornin’,” he said in a sleepy drawl that had her imagining him whispering those words in her ear while they lay wrapped together, savoring a peaceful morning.
“Mornin’,” she replied, hating how husky her own voice sounded.
“I’m sorry I didn’t phone yesterday, but we had some issues at work, and it was past midnight when I got home.”
“Sorry to hear that. Anything you want to share?”
“Lawyers. Why does everything go south when lawyers are involved?” he said, deep frustration mingling with humor.
“I totally know the feeling,” she said, since she had run into many attorneys who didn’t know how to play well with others. “Can I help with anything?”
“Not really, but I could use your help with something else this weekend,” he said.
She could tell it cost him a little to ask, as if he was also having that mix of anticipation and uncertainty she’d been feeling. “I’m free this weekend,” she said without hesitation, wanting to move past the doubt so they would really explore what was happening between them.
His sigh of relief drifted across the phone line. “Awesome. Pick you up on Friday? Around six?”
Since everything was under control on her desk, she said, “That sounds fine. What do you need help with?”
“Finding a house.”
* * *
Jonathan opened the door to the suite that he’d reserved at the Sea Kiss Inn. He stepped aside to let Connie enter and wasn’t disappointed by her sigh of pleasure.
“This is lovely,” she said as she did a little pirouette to examine the main room of the suite that was decorated with Victorian-era antiques. On one table by the couch, a fragrant bouquet of roses sat in a crystal vase. At either side of the room, doors opened to the two bedrooms in the suite that each had their own bathrooms.
She narrowed her gaze and glanced from one door to the other. “Two bedrooms?” she asked with a surprised look.
He should have guessed that Connie, who worried about his being unpredictable, might read all the wrong things into that choice. He faced her, cradled her cheek, and said, “Making love to you last weekend was amazing, but I didn’t want to assume or rush you.”
A hint of a smile tugged up one corner of her lips. “Because you’re all about being organic,” she joked.
He grinned and whispered a kiss across her blossoming smile. “Get settled. I made an eight o’clock reservation for us at The Dunes.”
“The Dunes? That’s my favorite place, but I thought they didn’t take reservations.”
He grinned and said, “I know the right people. The owner was a short-order cook at a bar where I worked, and we stayed friends.” He didn’t add
that when Hurricane Sandy had done serious damage to the restaurant located close to the Sea Kiss River inlet, he’d helped out his friend when delays in insurance claims and public funds had threatened to forever close the business.
Connie seemed to realize that there was more to the story that he wasn’t saying. “I’ll have to pry the rest from you over dinner,” she said.
“Go get ready. I’m a growing boy, and I’m starving.”
She did as he asked, wheeling her overnight bag to the room at the far side of the suite. He grabbed his duffel and took it to the front bedroom that had a balcony that overlooked Main Street and also had a fabulous view of the ocean. The early fall sun was pouring in through the windows but would be setting soon. He tossed his duffel at the side of the bed, walked over to the french doors along the balcony, and threw them open to take in the sunset.
A second later, he heard the rap against the doorframe and glanced back to find Connie waiting by the jamb. He held out his hand in invitation, and she strolled over and joined him on the balcony.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he said and wrapped his arms around her waist to draw her close as she stood before him.
She relaxed against him, her head tucked just under his chin. Her arms rested on his as the sun faded to the west and bathed the street and ocean with its last golden rays. Dusk settled a cape of reds and purples over the town, and as it did so, Connie turned in his arms and ran her hands up to his shoulders.
She didn’t say a word as she reached up and raked her fingers through the longish strands of his hair. With a smile, she rose up on tiptoes and gifted him with a gentle kiss filled with promise. As she shifted away slightly, she skimmed her hand along his cheek, and at his questioning gaze, she said, “Thank you for being so thoughtful. The rooms. The restaurant.”
“The lovely sunset I planned just for you,” he kidded.
She rolled her eyes and swatted his arm playfully. “You’re good but not that good. Let’s go eat.”
What Happens in Summer Page 12
