“There must be a few old biddies in Baltimore who know the truth and still consider Mother an upstart social climber, but no one dares cross her now. Once Edward adopted me, she considered our past erased. Unfortunately, I was a constant reminder of her humble beginnings. Charles was the real Brewster, the favored son. I did my best to fit in. I went to the finest schools with the other spoiled brats, but I always knew I was different. Charles did, too. He took every opportunity to remind me that I didn’t have Brewster blood. And I don’t. Try as I might, I couldn’t summon any interest in shipping or social climbing. My parents never forgave me for it.
“If they were going to disapprove of me anyway, I thought, why not give them good reason? What better revenge than to jilt the girl they had pushed on me and leave the country? How very un-Brewster, to go off and enjoy myself! Mother’s scolding letters followed me across Europe, but Father never cut off my funds, as I thought he would. Officially, he disapproved enormously, but I think he also envied me, living as I wished.
“However, the years of wandering eventually took their toll. I was tired of always being a stranger, starting over every few months. I even missed my parents’ awful house, if you can believe it! I thought that perhaps, after Father died, Mother and I might start over. But I came home to find I was still the disreputable brother, forever in Charles’s shadow. Nothing had changed. Except you.”
Evelyn leaned over to kiss him, trying to soothe the lingering pain. His lips clung hungrily to hers, and they kissed with a desperate intensity. Will’s hands slipped inside her shawl and she led them to her neckline, her skin tingling as he traced his fingers along her shoulders and throat. When they first met, Evelyn had been drawn to Will’s way with words. Tonight, she glimpsed another side to him, a man who could weaken her without saying anything.
But she didn’t go further than a kiss, especially now that freedom was within reach. No matter what mud Charles and the Brewsters flung at her, she wouldn’t care. She could survive Charles’s rage if Will was her reward. There would be time enough for passion later.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
IT’S NOT A DATE, Alissa told herself. Still, she circled back to the mirror to check her reflection more than once before leaving the bedroom.
“I know this great little place in the middle of nowhere,” Danny had suggested. “Simple but good.”
The restaurant might be simple, but Alissa decided her outfit wouldn’t be. Danny saw her in jeans every day; if nothing else, this dinner would give her an excuse to pull out some of the stylish clothes she used to wear to work. She chose a figure-enhancing knit wrap dress and mid-heel sandals: dressy but not desperate. She tousled her hair in a vain attempt to give it some curl, then gave up and pulled it back in a low ponytail. After applying some makeup—mascara and lipstick, nothing too obvious—she went downstairs to wait on the front porch.
Danny was driving up as she stepped outside. The flatbed of his pickup was littered with paint cans and jumbled piles of wood, but the cab was immaculate.
“Hey there,” said Danny as Alissa stepped inside. He glanced quickly from her head to her feet, then back again. “You look nice.”
“Thanks.” Pleased as she was to have her effort acknowledged, she wasn’t sure how to respond. It’s dinner, she reminded herself, nothing more.
After driving about fifteen minutes out of town, Alissa saw a red neon sign for Jack’s Place at a bend in the road. Inside, a counter ran along one side of the room, complete with old-timers who looked as if they’d been hunched there for decades. Booths with worn brown leather seats were scattered through the rest of the space. Alissa scanned the clientele and realized she was the only person wearing something other than jeans or shorts.
“Hey, Danny,” said a teenage girl standing near the door. She wore her hair in two long braids, and her braces glinted in the light when she smiled.
“Alissa, this is Kim,” Danny said. “Her dad’s the owner and chef. I’ve known them forever.”
“The usual seat?” Kim asked Danny. When he nodded, she picked up two menus from the counter in front of her. “C’mon.”
She led them to a booth in the back corner, farthest from the front door. Kim placed a menu in front of Alissa, then looked at Danny. “You want one, too?”
“You know what I’m going to order,” Danny said with a smile. Turning to Alissa, he explained, “I always get the same thing. It’s become a joke.”
“Corn chowder and a crab cake sandwich,” Kim said. “Every single time!”
“I know every restaurant in Maryland says their crab cakes are the best, but these really are,” Danny declared.
“Okay, you’ve sold me,” Alissa said.
“Great.” Kim made a note on her order pad. “And to drink?”
Alissa gave Danny a questioning look. If this was a just-friends get-together, she should ask for iced tea or lemonade. Ordering alcohol might send the wrong message.
“I’ll have a beer,” Danny said. “How about you?”
“Sounds good,” Alissa said.
The setting may have been different, but Danny and Alissa’s conversation soon fell into its usual pattern: how things were progressing at the house, what the next project would be, which supplies needed to be ordered. Alissa had been on edge when they started out, but this easy back and forth calmed her jittery nerves. It was just Danny. They talked like this every day.
Still, the whole point of this dinner had been to find out more about him. It wasn’t until they were well into their sandwiches that Alissa got up the courage to change the subject.
“We’ve been working together nearly every day for two months, but I know almost nothing about your personal life,” she said lightly.
“That’s because I don’t have one,” Danny said.
“C’mon,” Alissa urged. “No girlfriend?”
Danny took a bite of his sandwich and swallowed before answering. “Not right now. I did, until last year.”
“Yeah, me, too,” Alissa said. “I mean, I had a boyfriend. For a long time.”
“Ah. So that’s why you escaped to the country.”
“Not really,” Alissa said. “Well—it’s complicated.”
“Isn’t it always?” Danny said.
“Does she live around here?” Alissa asked. “Your ex?”
“No, she’s in New York,” Danny said. “Part of the life I left behind.”
He made it sound so easy. Ditch the job, ditch the girl and move on. He sounded like a stereotypical guy, running away from any form of commitment. Alissa couldn’t help feeling disappointed by his cavalier tone, shrugging off his past as though it meant nothing.
“Another beer?” Danny suggested.
“Sure.”
When the second round of drinks arrived, Danny lifted his pint and clinked it against Alissa’s glass. “To small towns,” he toasted.
Alissa clinked her glass against his, then took a few sips. Danny had been wary about this evening, wondering how they’d relate to each other outside their usual routine. Seeing how beautiful she looked in that form-fitting dress had only made him more nervous. But gradually, as they ate, he felt himself loosen up, and Alissa had seemed at ease, too. Now, though, she put down her beer and swirled a couple of French fries aimlessly through a shallow pool of ketchup on her plate. Danny wondered if she was thinking about her boyfriend, the one she’d never mentioned before. He felt a sudden rush of jealousy.
“So, why did you two break up?” he asked casually.
“Lots of reasons,” Alissa said. “We had completely different schedules, for one thing. Different priorities. The house was the final straw, though.”
“How?”
“I fell in love with it, and he didn’t.”
Danny nodded as if that made sense.
By the time they finished dessert—slices of tart key lime pie—Alissa had drifted into a tipsy haze. She slipped in and out of attention as Danny talked about options for replacement windows. Even wit
hout listening to the exact words, it was reassuring to hear someone talk with such confidence. She watched his hands as he sketched ideas on a paper napkin.
“You tired?” Danny asked.
“What? Why?” Alissa said.
“You look distracted,” he said. “Hope I’m not boring you.”
“No, not at all,” Alissa said. “I’m relaxed, that’s all.”
“Maybe I’ve never seen you relaxed before.”
Alissa smiled, wanting to say something about his effect on her. If only she could find the right words.
Danny leaned back in his seat and casually studied her. “So, was it worth it? Trekking out here?” he asked.
“Absolutely. The food was great.”
Danny grinned as if he’d cooked it himself. “I’m glad you liked it. Now you have someplace to bring your friends when they visit.”
“What visits? My friends all think I live in the middle of nowhere.” She laughed to show she was joking, but it wasn’t far from the truth. Constance was the only person from her old life in Baltimore who’d made the trip out to see her.
“Maybe you’ll make friends around here,” Danny said. “We’re not all hicks.”
“Of course not. I never thought you were.” Alissa wondered how she’d given him that impression. Before she could ask, Danny was putting his napkin on the table and saying, “Ready to go?”
They stood up, and Danny walked to the cash register by the door, holding the check Kim had left on the table earlier. As he pulled out his wallet, Alissa reached toward him.
“Let me,” she offered.
“It’s all right,” Danny said.
Alissa put her hand on his arm. “No, really. I’m the one who asked you to dinner….”
“It’s no big deal,” Danny insisted.
Yet another reason not to mix business and pleasure, Alissa thought. You end up fighting over the check.
“Why don’t we split it?” she suggested.
Danny shrugged. “Okay, if that’s what you want.”
They barely spoke on the drive back to Alissa’s house. She wasn’t sure if it was a comfortable silence, or a sign they’d run out of things to say.
As they pulled up in her driveway, Alissa flashed him the bright smile she used to give clients after business meetings. “Thanks so much. It was great to get out.”
“Yeah,” Danny said. “Listen…” He paused, and Alissa tensed up. Would he have the nerve to make a move? Did she want him to?
“If you ever need to get out again, give me a call, okay? I know it’s hard to start out somewhere new. I’d be happy to introduce you around, if you like.”
Danny’s hand lay on the seat next to her. It would be so easy to touch him. A friendly gesture, nothing more. If she had sensed some flicker of movement, if Danny had so much as leaned in her direction, she would have reached for him. But he held back, letting Alissa know with his eyes that the first move would have to be hers.
Alissa turned away and picked up her purse. “See you tomorrow?”
“Right,” he said. “I’ll get started on the kitchen floor.”
How easily he slipped back to business. It was as if the romantic tension between them had been a mirage, a feeling conjured up out of loneliness.
Back in the house, Alissa felt strangely listless. The dinner had gone as smoothly as she could have hoped, with good food and easy conversation. But the night had ended on an awkward note that bothered her. She knew, in the moment, she’d wanted to kiss Danny. Resisting that impulse had been a smart decision. Getting involved with someone who worked for her would be disastrous. But she couldn’t help wondering what would have happened. Would he have come inside with her? How far would things have gone?
She turned on the TV in the living room and flipped aimlessly through the channels, too distracted to concentrate. She stared at the design magazines piled on the coffee table, unable to summon the energy to open them. Finally, she picked up the phone. She’d told Constance about her dinner plans earlier that day, and her friend had insisted she check in afterward.
“Hey,” Alissa said when Constance picked up the phone. “Ready for the play-by-play of my nondate?”
“Tell me every scandalous detail,” Constance said.
“Nothing scandalous, I’m afraid. We had dinner. Danny was a perfect gentleman.”
“Oh.” Constance sounded as disappointed as Alissa felt. “I was sure he’d put the moves on you. Or vice versa. How could you keep your hands off him?”
Alissa laughed. “I managed to resist temptation. It would make everything way too complicated.”
Constance sighed. “You’re right. I guess I wanted to live vicariously. You know, spice up my dull routine.”
“Oh, please,” Alissa scoffed. “You get out more than I do. Didn’t you say you were going to the theater this week?”
“Yeah, last night.” Constance hesitated before continuing. “I wasn’t sure whether to bring this up, but—”
“What happened? Now you have to spill it,” Alissa said, eager to deflect the attention away from herself.
“The play was awful,” Constance said. “Much too long, and filled with pretentious overacting. Colin and I were walking around the lobby during intermission, trying to decide if we should skip the second half, and guess who we ran into. Brad.”
This was a surprise. Going to the theater was one of the many things Alissa and Brad had fought about; Alissa had bought season tickets one year, and Brad had refused to go with her, calling it a waste of money.
“He was there with a woman,” Constance continued. “Almost a girl, really. Young, petite. Pretty in a blank sort of way, but not beautiful, if that helps. We said hi, and stood there awkwardly, and I figured he’d be relieved if Colin and I went off to get a drink. It’s not like we have anything to say to each other, right?
“But here’s the weird part. Brad started asking about you—right there in front of his date. He wanted to know how you were doing, and if I’d seen you recently. It was more than the polite way you ask about someone you know in common—it was like he really wanted to know.”
Brad. Part of the life I left behind, Alissa thought, remembering Danny’s description of his ex-girlfriend.
“I wasn’t even going to tell you,” Constance said. “You and Brad are done, so why go over old ground again?”
“Yeah.”
“You are over Brad, aren’t you?” Constance asked.
“Of course.” On some level, Alissa knew she was. Days went by when she didn’t think of him. But questions about their relationship remained, ignored but not forgotten. A lingering unease about how things had ended.
“I’m not saying you should call him,” Constance said. “It’s probably better if you don’t.”
But Alissa knew she would. Sorting out her real feelings for Danny would be impossible if she didn’t find closure with Brad first. Alissa thought of Evelyn Brewster, married in her early twenties. What if Alissa had married Brad at that age, when she didn’t know any better? Her life might have been simpler, but she didn’t think she would have been happier.
Had Evelyn ever lain awake at night, replaying conversations in her head, confused by her feelings? Maybe. But Charles Brewster was a great catch: rich, handsome and admired. There was no reason for Evelyn to have mixed feelings about him. Whereas Danny’s good looks and easy charm had to be measured against his lack of ambition, his mysterious rootlessness. When it came to long-term prospects, Charles Brewster looked like a much better bet than Danny Pierce. Evelyn could never have known what it felt like to fall for the wrong man.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“AUNT EVELYN, what’s wrong?”
Evelyn looked up from the dominoes stacked in front of her. Beatrice sat across the table, her eyes narrowed with concern. Evelyn might no longer be Beatrice’s governess, but she still felt protective of her niece. She’d watched Lavinia and Alma dampen the girl’s spirits as they attempted to transform her into
an obedient young lady. Evelyn tried to counteract their efforts by spending time with Beatrice every week, time when Beatrice was allowed to have fun rather than sit dutifully like a miniature version of her mother. Usually, the visits were good for Evelyn, too. But today, she was too distracted to concentrate on their game.
“Sorry, love. I’m a bit tired,” she said, forcing a smile.
“Why?”
“I had trouble sleeping last night.”
“What’s this about not sleeping?” a hearty voice boomed from behind her. Evelyn turned to see Winslow plodding across the room. Winslow never appeared to be in a hurry, or worried, or upset. For him, life was easy.
“Aunt Evelyn says she can’t sleep!” Beatrice announced.
“That’s not what I meant…” Evelyn insisted, shaking her head to quiet the child.
“Really?” Winslow asked, mystified by the concept of insomnia. “You need to rest a full eight hours each night. Nine, ideally. No reason to follow that ‘early to rise’ nonsense.”
Not for him. Winslow didn’t have to get up at dawn and work until nightfall to earn a living, as Evelyn’s mother and so many others in Oak Hill did. He could roll out of bed at ten o’clock and enjoy a leisurely breakfast before shuffling papers for a few hours. Winslow had an official title at Brewster Shipping, but he didn’t seem to spend much time at the Baltimore office. No doubt that was because Charles insisted on doing everything himself.
“Look, Daddy!” Beatrice said. “Her eyes are red!”
“Hush!” Evelyn admonished.
“Hope you’re not ill,” Winslow said. “One of the housemaids was sneezing this morning. It was quite distracting.”
“I feel perfectly well, thank you. Beatrice, take your turn.”
Evelyn turned her back to Winslow, hoping to discourage further conversation. But something in her tone had evidently piqued his interest.
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