Crescent Hill

by Jackie Wang

  I laughed. “Are you that excited to see him or do you just want the free dinner?”

  “Both!” the two cried in unison. I’d barely put on Jason’s hat before he ran down the hall and out the doors. I could hear him scream out Roman’s name in the distance. I laughed.

  “Does this mean you two are back together?” Greg asked beside me, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. We were walking extra slowly, and I knew he probably had a lot of questions for me.

  “What do you mean, sweetheart? We were never together,” I replied.

  Greg looked down at his boots. The laces were untied, and he bent down to tie them. “Does this mean you two will be together now?”

  “No. We’re just friends, Greg.”

  “I saw you kissing him once. Friends don’t kiss.”

  My son was such a smart ass sometimes. My cheeks flamed. “It was a friendly kiss.”

  “Sure didn’t look like it.” Greg stood up and took my slender hands into his small ones. “I just want you to find someone to love, Mom. I want to see you happy. I’m glad you saw Roman again.”

  “You are?”

  “As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”

  “I’ve already got two amazing boys to love: you and your brother. I’m more than happy with who I’ve got.”

  “That’s not the same, Mom. You need a boyfriend.”

  “What do you know about boyfriends?” I laughed and pinched Greg’s cheek. “Come on, let’s go.”

  When did my son grow up?

  Before we opened the front door, Greg said, “I know you need a boyfriend, Mom.”

  I laughed out loud. “You cheeky monkey. Get outside, you.”

  Greg’s face lit up when he saw Roman, and then he screamed with joy when he saw Roman’s car. “Is that a—”

  “Yes, it is,” Roman said. “Care for a ride, Mister Gregory?”

  Greg lunged forward and gave Roman a big hug. “You’re the coolest. I’m so glad you and Mom got back together. I was the one who told her to Google you.”

  “Were you now?” Roman grinned and ruffled Greg’s hair. “Then I’ve got to thank you properly some time. How does a ride in my new Jag sound?”

  “You have a Bentley and a Jag?” Greg let out what could only be described as a high-pitched yelp. “Mom, you need to seriously marry this man right now.”

  Marry? I didn’t even know what the next three weeks would look like for us, let alone the rest of my life. I blushed. “Greg, quit being weird and get in the car.”

  Greg and Jason piled into the backseat as I slid into the passenger one.

  “Do you want to listen to some music?” Roman asked us as he pulled away from the curb.

  The boys didn’t reply, choosing instead to whisper into each other’s ears.

  “You two had plenty to say when we were inside,” I said. “Why’re you clammed up now?”

  “Roman, are you going to date our mom?” Greg asked. He sat up straight, his face all business. He adjusted the seatbelt, loosening it, and then letting it snap back against his chest.

  Roman’s shoulders shook with laughter. “That depends on your mom. What do you say, Mags, should we date?”

  I rolled my eyes. My neck felt hot enough to fry an egg on. “Don’t listen to them. They’re just horsing around.”

  “Oh, we’re not horsing around,” Jason added, adjusting his reindeer nose again and scratching his upper lip. “Greg and I have discussed this seriously, and we think you and Mom should date.”

  “Bit bossy, are we?” Roman laughed again, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I guess if you say we must, then, we must.”

  “If you want to date our mom, here are the rules.” Greg took a deep breath. “First, you need to love her with all your heart. Second, you can never break her heart. Ever. Third, you need to buy her flowers. Lots and lots of flowers. Women like that.”

  “Those seem straightforward enough,” Roman said. “Done.”

  I slumped in my seat and scrubbed my face with my hands. I’d raised a pair of matchmakers, and I didn’t even know it. “Boys, shush.”

  “Her favorite flowers are lilies,” Jason said. “You might want to jot that down.”

  Roman burst out laughing again as he pulled into a parking lot. “Looks like I’ve got a lot to learn about your mother. Thankfully, I have two experts on my side.” He cut the engine and winked at my boys.

  “Don’t worry, we’ll teach you everything you need to know,” Jason said. “You just have to ask.”

  I was mortified by my boys’ behavior, but Roman seemed more amused than anything. Throughout dinner, he kept asking them various questions about my likes and dislikes.

  Cupcakes? —Definitely yes.

  Romantic movies? —She prefers Action.

  Jewelry? —Only earrings.

  Favorite ice-cream flavor? —Strawberry and Vanilla.

  The boys answered almost all of the questions correctly. And when they didn’t know the answers, I filled in the blanks. It was a light-hearted game, but I could tell that Roman was quite serious about it. He indulged the boys for the rest of the evening, as we dined on sumptuous Dungeness crab, massive European lobsters, and succulent sole fillet, paired with fizzy sodas and virgin cocktails. Empty glasses were refilled promptly, and plates cleared within minutes. I’d never seen such attentive servers. The service was impeccable, and I hoped Roman would leave a generous tip. Of course, it wasn’t until the end of the meal that I learned that Roman actually owned this restaurant, and the adjoining hotel, The Earlston.

  Well, no wonder.

  Throughout the night, I watched Roman as he interacted with Jason and Greg. He was always patient and never condescending, treating my sons as if they were miniature adults who garnered his respect and attention. The boys, in turn, caught him up on everything we’d done during the past year. It was their turn to tell stories, they said. And tell stories they did. They even told Roman about the time we went camping last summer, and how I stepped, ankle-deep, in bear shit. Their candidness was painful to hear, but Roman enjoyed every morsel of information Greg and Jason volunteered. In turn, he told them about his year, starting with the hotels he fixed in Vienna and Nuremberg, to the complete renovation of his new inn.

  The three of them laughed and joked and got along perfectly, which made me delighted but worried at the same time. After all, we were leaving in two-and-a-half weeks, and the boys had to know that Roman wasn’t coming back with us.

  Roman belonged to big, bright London, and we, to small-town Penderton Island. Our paths had crossed once more, and I was determined to enjoy our time together, but I couldn’t afford to let things get complicated between us.

  After all, the last thing I needed was more heartbreak to ring in the new year.

  I needed to be realistic about our future together.

  Chapter 37

  Nineteen Days Left

  “They’ve gotten a lot smarter since I last saw them,” Roman said after I put the boys to sleep. “Taller too.”

  “Mmhm,” I agreed. It’d taken a heck of a lot of bargaining for me to finally get them tucked in. They were so riled up by Roman’s stories that they wanted to stay up, all night, if possible, to catch up. “A lot more loud-mouthed too. I’m sorry about some of the inappropriate things they said tonight. They don’t have social filters. Clearly.”

  “You’ve done an amazing job raising them,” Roman said. “There’s nothing you need to apologize about.”

  I fidgeted with the hem of my shirt. A stitch was undone, and I tugged at the loose thread. “Thank you for a lovely meal. The boys…and I…We had a lot of fun.”

  “I’m glad. So…How about we do this again? Say, tomorrow?”

  I looked up at him through hooded eyes, lips slightly parted. “Roman…Do you think that’s such a good idea?”

  Roman tipped up my chin. “Maggie, you’re leaving in less than three weeks. I’ll be damned if I don’t take advantage of every single milliseco
nd I have with you.”

  “Don’t you have hotels to run or fan mail to answer or something? And your new inn...”

  Roman smirked. “So, you’ve been keeping tabs on me?”

  I shrugged. “One of my classmates mentioned it.”

  “Yes, I am opening a new inn down the street from your school. I’d love for you to come see it.”

  “I’ve got classes.”

  “You can come over after class.”

  “I don’t know if—”

  “I want you to meet my sister, Amelia. And my niece, Isabella, would get along well with your sons, I think. They’re the closest family I’ve got in London, and—”

  I rested a gentle hand on Roman’s firm, sweater-clad chest. “What are we doing, Roman? Is this all a charade? A game? I can’t meet your family…I’m not in a position to—”

  “My sister is helping me run this inn. She used to be an Olympic athlete until she tore her ACL. Now she’s my right-hand woman. You two could trade hospitality horror stories.” Roman winked. “It’ll be great.”

  He was pretending as if we had all the time in the world together. It was crazy, and I had to put an end to it. “You know I’m only staying until January, right? Don’t you think I—”

  Roman leaned into me until I could smell the cologne on his clothes. His familiar scent wafted over me, bringing with it bittersweet nostalgia. His lips hovered inches away from mine. “I don’t want to think. I barely even want to blink or breathe, because I’m scared it’ll be all over before it’s even begun. All I know is, you’re back in my life, Maggie. And I’m going to treasure every goddamn second of this.” Roman dipped down and claimed my mouth, nibbling on my lower lip. I sighed against him, trembling with unexplainable need. His tongue darted into my mouth and sought out mine, the two performing a familiar and heated dance. Memories of the night we spent together flooded through me, and I was surprised by their vividness. The way his skin had felt against mine, how he pinned me down with his powerful thighs and claimed me, emotionally, and physically. How right it felt to surrender to his body.

  I shivered.

  “Your taste is something I’ll never forget. I thought I’d lost you forever, Maggie,” Roman said huskily. “This is my second chance. Our second chance.”

  I shivered again as Roman’s beard rubbed against my cheek. It was soft, and it tickled.

  “You don’t need to commit to anything. We can take things slow. Let me show you my world, Magnolia Summers,” Roman whispered against my ear. “Let me back inside yours.”

  I sighed and gave him the slightest of nods.

  That was all the confirmation he needed. “You won’t regret it, I promise.” He kissed my jaw and made his way back to my lips before stopping at the corner of my mouth. I dragged in a sharp breath as he rubbed his nose against mine. “Roman, you tease.”

  “Tell me you’re mine,” Roman said huskily. “Only mine.”

  “I’m yours,” I whispered. My voice didn’t sound like my own. “I can’t promise how long, but for now, I’m one-hundred percent yours.”

  “That’s all I wanted to hear.” Roman planted another feather-light kiss on my cheek before checking his watch. “It’s getting late. I have an early morning tomorrow.”

  “Don’t let me keep you, then.” Every fiber of my body screamed for him to stay, but of course, I couldn’t monopolize his attention. He had an empire to run. Now was no time to be selfish.

  “I’ll see you soon, Maggie. Sleep well.”

  I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding and nodded. “Good night, Roman.”

  After Roman had left, I was left wondering what the hell had happened that day, and how it would impact my sons and me in the near future. Roman had thrust himself back into my life, passionate and more romantic than ever. And for the first time in a long time, I let myself get swept off my feet. I let him kiss me, woo me, ply me with sweet nothings. I let him warm my frozen heart and a small part of me—the tiniest part of me—prayed for a fairy tale ending.

  Was it so bad to fantasize about a happily ever after? My own version of a Christmas miracle? After over a decade, was it so wrong to want a warm body to sleep beside at night? Every night? Someone to kiss in the morning, and share pillow talk with at night?

  The next morning, while I made chocolate crepes for the boys, they were overflowing with questions. Questions I didn’t want to answer at the moment, but was forced to answer anyway.

  “Are you going to see him again?” Jason asked as he licked each of his ten chocolatey fingers clean.

  I nodded. “Yes, he’s showing me his new inn this afternoon.”

  “Does this mean you two will start dating?” Jason continued in a sing-song voice.

  I shot him a sideways glance. What did a seven-year-old know about dating? “No, we’re still friends.” Even though that kiss last night was anything but friendly.

  “Can Roman take us to see the Tower of London?” Greg asked. “He said he would last night.”

  “He’s a really busy man.”

  “Can Roman tell us more stories about his adventures?” Jason wanted to know.

  “Maybe if you ask nicely.”

  And so it went, back and forth, all the way up until I dropped them off at the day camp.

  “Make sure you ask Roman our questions,” Jason reminded me. He unzipped his backpack, pulled out a messy crayon drawing and handed it to me. At first, I didn’t know what it was. Then, after a bit of squinting, I realized it was a picture of the four of us, holding hands. Each stick figure had the biggest smile on its face. “Can you give this to him? Tell him I think you two would make a really cute baby brother for us.”

  “Jason!” I cried, folding the drawing and tucking it into my purse. “Where did you learn—” I hissed.

  “Greg’s idea,” Jason said, shifting blame on to his brother. He flashed me a gummy grin. I shook my head and laughed.

  I ruffled their hair and gave them a small push inside. “Get in. It’s freezing. I’ll see you two later. Love you.”

  “Love you too. Bye, Mom!”

  “Have a good day at pastry school!”

  After they had disappeared into the classroom, my lips curled up into a small grin. When had my sons become so grown up? It was adorable how badly they wanted me to be happy. They’d seen me struggle and suffer a lot over the years, and I was glad that they remained optimistic about my future, despite my crooked and broken past.

  My demons haunted me less and less now. For that, I was grateful.

  I no longer woke up in the middle of the night screaming for Adam. Little by little, I forgave myself, and acknowledged that what happened was an accident. I wasn’t a murderer, despite what the angry voices in my head sometimes proclaimed.

  I no longer cried myself to sleep wondering if Carl or Thomas would ever take interest in their sons. Greg and Jason had me, and the three of us were happier without those assholes. And despite occasionally feeling overwhelmed by stress and anxiety, I loved being a single mother. I enjoyed spending time with my intelligent sons, who did not manifest any of their fathers’ poor personality traits. The three of us were a team, and together, we could face anything.

  Chapter 38

  After class, (the lesson of the day was pie dough, something I excelled at) I walked over to the inn, and nearly choked on my afternoon coffee.

  The medieval-looking building was situated in the heart of Clapham Common, within walking distance of the Clapham North tube station, which was the train I took to get to class. With a gabled roof, weathered brick exterior, and single-pane glass windows, it looked exactly like what I imagined a British inn to look like.

  What shocked me, however, was not the architecture, but the wrought iron sign that hung above the green front door.

  Maggie’s Inn.

  Holy crap. No fricking—

  “Do you like it?” a voice came behind me. His voice.

  Husky. Dangerous. Edgy enough to made my hackle
s rise.

  “You named it after me?” I eked out.

  “Don’t be silly. I named it after my great-great grandmother,” Roman corrected me.

  My lips formed an ‘O’. “Oh. I’m sorry I—”

  Roman broke out in a boyish grin. “Of course I named it after you. You were on my mind twenty-four seven when I came back to the UK. The name, ‘Maggie’s Inn’ screamed out to me over and over until I finally put it down in black and white. Once the contracts were signed, I felt so relieved. Even though I knew it would hurt me, I still felt compelled to name it after you.”

  “Why would you ask for unwanted grief?” I asked, admiring the handiwork. “To be constantly reminded of—”

  “Magnolia Summers, you’re the only woman who’s ever been able to capture my heart in less than two weeks. That achievement deserves some sort of commemorative trophy. You know, I’m quite the catch here in London. Many have tried, but failed to interest me in the slightest. Then, I met you, and my life flipped upside down the moment I laid eyes on you.” Roman winked and a burst of butterflies threatened to escape from me.

  The gesture was incredibly sweet and romantic. Almost too much so. And he’d done it without telling me, or even knowing if I’d ever step foot in it.

  I snickered. “My classmates can’t stop talking about you. I had no idea I was friends with such a big shot celebrity.”

  “My name will open doors anywhere in this city,” Roman bragged, opening the front door for me. “My great-uncle is a marquess, you know. I’m related to the Queen.” Of course he is. What was he going to tell me next? That he owned a palace in the countryside, like Downton Abbey? That he stood to inherit millions—oh, he had mentioned once that his grandmother was insanely wealthy.

  “Should I swoon at your feet now, or once we get inside?” I teased.

  “Preferably after we enter the premises. I wouldn’t want to cause a public scene.”

  I smirked. “Come on, then, give Maggie here a tour of Maggie’s Inn.”