by Brenda Novak
He grimaced. “I’m not looking for praise or acknowledgment. I should never have allowed myself to fall so low. But I’ve told you things, trusted you with details I haven’t shared with anyone else—”
“I would never share anything you told me privately.”
“It’s not that. It just feels like...something’s missing now that I’m back. I never wanted you out of my life.”
She managed a casual chuckle. “I’m not out of your life. I work for you, don’t I?”
He didn’t laugh at her little joke. “That’s not the same. I’d like to be friends.”
She closed her eyes for a moment. “Okay, then we’ll be friends.” She didn’t care what label he put on their relationship, as long as there wasn’t much contact. Because even now she could remember the taste of his kiss, the way his lips moved over hers and then trailed down her neck to—
She cut off her thoughts.
He peered at her. “Honestly?”
“Of course.” Once he obtained her agreement, he’d be satisfied and move on. So she couldn’t see any reason to hold out, to make him come around a second time. She wasn’t out to punish him; she only wanted to stop the ache in her heart. At last. To be as fine without him as he was without her. Was that too much to ask?
He grinned at her, and she cursed the way that grin turned her knees to jelly. “Okay,” he said. “Does that mean you’ll let me take you to lunch?”
“Right now?”
He checked his watch. “Why not? It’s noon.”
She wasn’t sure how to respond. “I...I can’t leave the store.”
“You could close down for an hour. We’ve done it before. Lots of people do that here on Fairham, especially in the winter when business is slow.”
“I brought a sandwich today. And since I was off yesterday, I’ve got too much work to take lunch. Maybe...next week.”
His mood dimmed, as if he understood she wasn’t eager to spend time with him, regardless of his attempts to make up. “Okay.”
She stiffened when he hugged her, refused to close her arms around him in response, mostly because she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to let go. It’d been so long. But if he noticed her less-than-enthusiastic reaction, he didn’t comment on it. “Thank you. It’s great to see you again. You look gorgeous,” he said.
Not compared to the women he normally dated. She’d seen the Facebook and Instagram pictures he’d been tagged in. Nancy probably weighed more than any of those women. But she told herself to quit being nasty and bitter. She had so much to be grateful for. She loved the town where she lived. She was near her sister and stepfather and wouldn’t be if she had to live anywhere else. She enjoyed her work, and she was healthy. So what if she couldn’t have the man she wanted? “Thanks.”
“I’m going to prove that I’m not as bad as you think,” he said and turned to go.
When she called his name, he stopped as if he’d been waiting for some sign from her. She considered telling him the truth—that she’d never thought he was “bad.” She’d understood and sympathized, and wanted only the best for him. But what was the point in going over all of that? Their one-sided love affair was ancient history. “Not to put any added pressure on you, but when this is all over, and you’re ready to go back to California, I’d like to meet with you if you can spare me a few minutes.”
“You mean outside of our lunch date? Because you already committed to that.”
She wiped her palms on her apron. “Um, yeah. Right. It can be over lunch. I’d just like to...to make you an offer.”
“Now you have my attention.”
He was joking—maybe even flirting with her. Feeling a rush of the love-drunk high she used to get when he gave her that look, she moved over to her worktable so she’d have something else to concentrate on. “It’s a business offer. I—I’d like to buy the store, if possible. But I’ll understand if you’d prefer to hang on to it and let Maisey run it, or...whatever.”
When he said nothing, she forced herself to meet his eyes.
“This is what you’d like to do for the rest of your life?” he asked.
She hauled in a deep breath. “Yep.”
“That’ll lock you into staying on the island.”
“I was never the one who wanted to leave,” she said. That was him. He’d been angry, unsettled and looking for something that might ease his resentment and dissatisfaction. If he wasn’t fighting his demons, he was running from them.
“It’s easier to meet people on the mainland,” he said. “You know just about everyone here.”
Where was he going with this? She opened her mouth to say she didn’t need anyone beyond her current circle of friends and her family. But then she caught on. “If by ‘people’ you mean ‘men,’ I’m already dating someone.”
“That’s what Maisey said.” He slid his hands into his pockets. “Is it serious, then?”
She placed some more greenery in her current work-in-progress bouquet. “It could become serious. I’m not ruling anything out.”
He came over to lean on her worktable. “I see. Where does he live?”
“The Isle of Palms.”
“So...he’d move here if you married?”
“If I bought the store, I guess he’d have to.” Since marrying Tom wasn’t even a possibility, she wasn’t worried about that. There could be someone else later who didn’t live on Fairham—so far, none of the men on that dating site did—but she couldn’t defer her plans forever, waiting to fall in love.
“Okay,” he said. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“I’d appreciate it.”
With a nod, he straightened and walked out, and this time Nancy did allow herself to go to the window, which proved to be a mistake. Almost as soon as he reached his car, he walked back to the store, and she had to scramble to return to her worktable before he could step inside.
“Nancy?” he called after the bell went off.
She hurried around the corner. “Yes?”
“Have you ever met Landon?”
“Your brother-in-law?”
“Yes, Roxanne’s husband.”
A memory came to mind, but it was one that sent a prickle of foreboding down her spine. She didn’t want to talk about Landon, especially with Keith. “I’ve met him. Why?”
He didn’t explain; he just asked another question. “When was he on the island last?”
“A few weeks ago for Christmas, as far as I’m aware.”
“He was with Roxanne and the kids?”
“Of course. It was the holidays. I can’t imagine he’d come here without them.” Why wasn’t Keith asking Roxanne this? Or Maisey? They’d be in a better position to answer his questions.
“So you’ve never known him to come to Fairham on his own.”
“No. Never,” she said, and that was the truth.
“You’ve never seen him in the store or around town?”
“Not since your mother’s Christmas party.” For years, Josephine had had an annual celebration at Coldiron House, during which she handed out the holiday bonuses to all her employees. “Landon was there. So were Roxanne and the kids. Maisey and Rafe weren’t. They had another event. To my knowledge, that’s the last time Landon was here.”
Keith rubbed the beard growth that darkened his square jaw. “Did Mom and Landon seem to be getting along?”
She’d seen them together briefly, standing alone in a small piano room off the foyer. Whatever they were talking about had seemed...serious, but she had no idea what they’d been discussing because they’d gone silent the moment they saw her. Nancy could’ve told Keith that, but she was afraid it could be misconstrued. It was just a split second. She couldn’t come up with any good reason why that sight had made her feel so...odd. And since she had nothin
g concrete to offer as a reason, she figured it was better to keep her mouth shut. “Far as I could tell.”
“And...Maisey’s never mentioned if there’s been any problems between him and Roxanne?”
“Not to me.”
“Okay. Thanks.” He raised one hand to signal that he was leaving.
“Wait,” she said. “Why are you asking about Landon?”
“Pippa told me something that made me wonder if she’s remembering the past few weeks as well as she should. That’s all.”
Maybe Pippa had seen more than Nancy had at that party and could accurately interpret what was going on... “Pippa may have a few gray hairs, but she’s absolutely reliable. Your mother counted on her a great deal.”
“Until the end?”
“Until the very end,” she confirmed.
Her answer did little to ease the lines of concern in his forehead. If anything, he seemed more troubled. “Good to know,” he said. “Give me a call when you’re ready to take me up on that lunch. I’d like to hear what’s going on in your life.”
“I will,” she said, but she was pretty sure he understood that she wasn’t going to call. She couldn’t. She didn’t even have his number.
And she didn’t ask for it.
11
“WHAT ARE YOU talking about? Landon hasn’t been on the island since Christmas.” Maisey looked upset despite her denials. “They live in Louisiana. It’s not as if he can jump in his car and drive here whenever he wants.”
Keith picked up the coffee Maisey had poured for him. He was sitting at her kitchen table while she fed Bryson lunch. Laney was at school; Rafe was at work. Her house, a clapboard bungalow built up off the ground to protect against hurricanes and flooding, wasn’t large, but it was comfortable. He could see why she’d be happy here, right off the ocean in one of the vacation rentals their father had built. She’d always been partial to Smuggler’s Cove—she used to accompany their father whenever he came down to check on the development. Keith had secretly envied her those trips, all the time she spent with their dad, but he’d never said anything.
Because Maisey and Malcolm had been so close, he’d expected her to inherit the rentals. And she would, if Keith could save them from whatever his mother might’ve done in an effort to preserve the rest of her holdings after the loss she’d suffered with that Jamaican resort.
At least Maisey and Rafe owned the home they lived in. Rafe had purchased it from Josephine before he ever got together with Maisey, so there was no danger of their having to move. Thank God. For now, Keith had other things to worry about, although he knew he’d have to deal with his mother’s financial woes soon.
“Pippa saw him, Maisey,” he said. “After you guys left last night, she told me he’d been to see Mom the day before she died.”
“Why didn’t she say something about that right after she found Mom?”
“I’m guessing she was too shocked and upset to even think of it. The police, the coroner, everyone said it was suicide, and she was trying to accept that.”
“We still don’t know it wasn’t!”
“Come on. She knows Mom would never kill herself. It just took a few days for her suspicion to overcome the shock.”
“Suspicion? So she thinks Landon might’ve killed our mother?”
Tears were filling Maisey’s eyes, so he reached over to squeeze her hand. He’d been hesitant to mention what he’d learned, but he felt he needed to find out why Landon might’ve visited Fairham without his family. Short of going to Roxanne, which he wasn’t prepared to do until he knew more, he felt that Maisey would be the most likely person to have that information.
He hadn’t expected her not to know about Landon’s visit. That was a bit worrisome. “Suspicion that something isn’t right. She doesn’t know who did it. She merely wanted me to realize that something...irregular happened before Mom died.”
“She’s casting doubt on our sister’s husband!”
“That wasn’t her intention,” he said calmly. “Or she would’ve told you, the police and everyone else. She’s trying not to cause trouble. She told me discreetly so I could protect Roxanne and her family. She was letting me know that the police might look at Landon if they start digging around.”
Her throat worked as she swallowed. “That means she’s worried. She’s afraid there may be some connection between his visit and Mom’s death.”
“She’s nervous. I’ll give you that.”
“Because he showed up? Maybe he had a good reason for meeting with Mom!”
“That’s what we’d all like to believe. So, did they have business together?”
“Not that I’ve heard, but that doesn’t mean anything.”
Their mother was pretty closed-mouth about her business dealings and her financial situation. She always had been. Still, Maisey lived so close, he’d felt certain she’d be able to tell him something. The fact that she couldn’t made him regret coming to her, but it was too late to handle the situation any differently. “They argued,” he said. “That also raises a red flag.”
She gave Bryson another spoonful of cottage cheese. “What did they argue about?”
“Pippa couldn’t tell. She was in the kitchen working, and they were in the drawing room. When she heard raised voices, she came out to see if everything was okay. But as she approached the drawing room, everything suddenly got quiet. Then Landon whipped open the door and nearly knocked her flat as he stormed out of the house.”
“What’d Mom say when he left? Was she upset?”
“Pippa stuck her head in to check, and Mom told her to go back to work and close the door.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it. Except...Pippa said she looked pale. And she didn’t come out of the drawing room for some time.”
Maisey bit her lip. “That’s crazy. There can’t be anything to it.”
“I agree. But what could they possibly have to fight about?”
She blew a strand of hair out of her face. “With Mom, it was possible to fight about anything. Have you asked Roxanne?”
“No. I figured I’d poke around a bit first, try to get a feel for what might’ve happened.” He loved Rocki, and couldn’t bear the thought of her worrying. Since they’d once lost her, she was such an unexpected blessing. He never wanted her to regret having them back in her life.
“Don’t tell me you’re afraid she’d lie to you...”
“No. I’m not saying that. I’d just like some context for what Pippa overheard before I talk to Rocki, that’s all. Maybe Rocki doesn’t even know Landon was here.”
“She’d have to know,” Maisey said. “He wouldn’t fly off without telling her. The day before Mom died was last Saturday—a weekend.”
“Yes, but Saturday isn’t necessarily a family day for them, if that’s what you’re driving at. Landon’s busier on weekends than weekdays. He could’ve told her he had a tour.” He’d frequently spoken to his sister on various weekends when Landon was working...
“Mo!” Bryson demanded, pounding on the tray of his high chair.
Maisey had been so distracted that she’d been holding his spoon in midair, and he was tired of waiting. “There’s not much going on with the tourists at this time of year,” she said as she brought the spoon to his lips.
Keith took another sip of his coffee. “Doesn’t mean he couldn’t get a group interested in seeing the swamps. That could happen in any season.”
“If he was here, Rocki would know,” Maisey insisted.
“Then why didn’t she mention it to you? Why didn’t you know?”
“Why didn’t you?” she countered.
“Because I live in California. She’d have no reason to mention it to me.”
Bryson hit his high chair again, which kept enough of M
aisey’s focus on him that she continued to shovel food into his mouth. “I can’t imagine why she wouldn’t tell me.” She used the back of her free hand to wipe her damp cheeks. “I guess that’s why I’m upset. I was already reeling, what with Mom’s death and the question of how she died. To learn that my brother-in-law, and maybe my sister, too, came to town without even calling me...”
Keith hadn’t called her the other day, when he’d arrived on Fairham, either. But he didn’t remind her of that, and he was glad she didn’t bring it up. “Why don’t you check in with her?”
“Right now?”
“I’d like to hear the conversation.”
Maisey rinsed Bryson’s empty bowl in the sink and began washing his face and hands. “I’m not going to set her up, if that’s what you mean.”
“I’m not talking about setting her up. I love her as much as you do. That’s why I’m being so cautious here. But because you live on the island, this call would seem more...normal if it was from you. Just ask why Landon came to Fairham. And what he and Mom were fighting about.”
Now full, Bryson rubbed his eyes. “Let me put him down for a nap,” Maisey said. “Then I’ll give her a call.”
* * *
Nancy couldn’t concentrate. In fact, she’d been struggling to concentrate ever since Josephine Lazarow died. Losing her employer so unexpectedly made her feel she might be on the brink of an opportunity, made her dream of one day owning the shop herself. But that wasn’t the only reason her mind was wandering. Now that Keith was in town, she caught herself remembering that lopsided grin of his, the weight of his hands gripping her shoulders when they’d nearly collided, the solid feel of his body as he gave her that final embrace. It’d been too long since she’d been with a man. She missed the intimacy, and it didn’t help that he was the last guy she’d been with. She’d never had a very robust sex life, but it’d been virtually nonexistent the past five years.
Determined to combat the desire aroused by knowing he was so close, she stopped working and returned Tom’s call. She needed a distraction. And he’d tried to reach her earlier. She’d let it go to voice mail.
