by JoAnn Durgin
“Yes, but my outlook and attitude can make all the difference, Isabella. My life is very ordered. I go from one thing to the next. Others handle my schedule and make sure I’m where I need to be, whether it’s in a client conference, a partner meeting, or in a courtroom. My responsibility is to research, study, and make sure I’m prepared to give my clients the best legal representation their money can buy.”
“I’m sure they appreciate what you do for them.”
“I used to defend some of the cases no one else wanted. I did it to prove my worth to my father, number one, and to anyone else who cared to pay attention.”
“Someone has to defend them,” Isabella said quietly.
“I’m not talking about being a public defender. I’m talking cases where the clients paid big money hoping to get either an acquittal or a verdict of not guilty. High profile cases with names in the high society of Boston. Rape cases, involuntary manslaughter, even murder.” He gave her a pointed look. “But never serial killers. Just so we’re clear.”
“And what cases do you work on now?”
“I switched to the non-violent white collar crimes. For the most part, I deal with privileged clients who’ve messed up. Some acknowledge that truth and genuinely want to change their lives for the better. They’re the ones who quietly accept their fate, so to speak. But there are others who can’t see that they’ve done anything wrong. They’re either in denial or refuse to see the truth, and they go kicking and screaming if they don’t get their way. They demand to be heard.”
“It could be that life’s beaten them down and they can’t differentiate black from white, right from wrong, anymore.” Isabella frowned. “You do represent some innocent people, I hope?”
Sidney nodded. “Yes, but unfortunately, a majority of them are guilty or they wouldn’t be accused of wrongdoing in the first place.”
“What made you decide to switch to the non-violent cases?” A sense of relief flowed through Isabella.
He tipped her chin. “Because I wanted to look at myself in the mirror and see a man of integrity, a man I can respect. I used to have a recurring nightmare where the victims of the crimes my clients had committed all came after me. They converged on me and beat me to a bloody pulp. And the sad fact? I probably deserved it.”
Isabella shuddered. “You’re much too hard on yourself, counselor.”
Sidney shook his head and scrubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t know why I started talking about all that. I like how optimistic and upbeat you are. You see the best in people.”
Isabella lowered her gaze. “You don’t really know me all that well.” He couldn’t know how beaten down she’d been after leaving Hartford. She hadn’t trusted anyone. Yet, his observation wasn’t so far off-track now. She’d changed a lot in the past year alone. Living in Evergreen had afforded her the time to slow down and think about her priorities. Most importantly, it’d given her the time she needed to reconnect with the Lord.
“In my own way, I ran away too,” she said. “As it turns out, I ran straight into my future. One that offered me sanity and the kind of inner peace I never had in Hartford. Worldly success meant nothing if it meant sacrificing my soul.”
“That’s what I was trying to say.” Sidney shifted to face her on the bench. “I felt like I’d sold out my soul.” Resting his hand on her forearm, he traced a light, circular pattern with his fingers.
If Paul, Jr. weren’t still on her shoulder, Isabella felt sure Sidney would kiss her.
You can’t kiss him. That would be the worst thing she could do. Where did the line of distinction lie between being the man’s friend and becoming more? Talk about a conundrum.
In her heart, Isabella knew the key had to be self-control. Being able to resist the physical attraction in not allowing the lines between friendship and romance to become blurred.
No handholding, no caresses, no kisses. The long gazes were kind of hard to ignore.
Lord, please help me. I can’t resist this man without your help. I need you!
He lifted the delicate necklace around her neck. “I recognize the handiwork.”
“Yes,” she said. “Caroline gave it to me earlier tonight. I’m pretty much pledged to babysit Ellie for the rest of my life in exchange for it. Your sister knows I love pink amethysts, but I had no idea she’d gift me with such an extravagant gift.”
Sidney’s fingers were warm on her skin as he released the necklace. “See? I learned something else about you tonight. I feel as though I already know you better than my last five dates combined.”
“Thanks for that.” Shaking her head, Isabella was relieved for the change in subject. “How am I supposed to respond? You keep me on my toes, that’s for sure.” She hadn’t had a date since she’d left Connecticut, only those just friends dinners and movies with Joel.
“I didn’t say over how long a period I had those dates,” Sidney said. “You might be surprised. The women were beautiful, smart, successful. The last date I had was with Taylor Norman, an oncologist at Brigham and Women’s. We went to an Andrew Lloyd Webber musical at The Wang Center.”
Isabella shifted on the bench. Why on earth would Sidney think she’d want to hear about his date with a gorgeous doctor? “Your point?”
Sidney chuckled. “No need to be jealous. None of those women, including Taylor, are anywhere near as fascinating, as exciting, or as beautiful, as I find you, Isabella. After only a couple of hours in their company, I felt claustrophobic.”
“You poor man.” Isabella kept her voice light and teasing. “I’m sorry you had to suffer.” Red alert flags were shooting signals right and left, but she pushed them aside. More like shoved them far, far away.
“They were focused on themselves, on what they wanted to accomplish. They didn’t really care about me or what I thought about anything. Our conversation was all on a surface level.”
“You have to give a relationship time to develop, Sidney. Most women aren’t like me, you realize. They’re not crazy enough to spout out their hidden fears and vulnerabilities early on. They don’t say whatever’s on their mind at the risk of sounding foolish.”
“I like how your eyes sparkle when you’re trying not to laugh,” he said.
Okay, so the man wanted to ruminate on her finer points. Who was she to stop him? This little exercise might prove enlightening.
“You have a habit of smoothing your hand over your hair, on the top of your head, when you’re nervous.” He demonstrated, as if she needed to be reminded. “You chew on your adorable lower lip when you’ve said something and then wonder if you shouldn’t have.” Sidney smiled and ran his finger along the bottom of her lower lip. Goodness, that was a sensual move. Was he doing this on purpose, trying to seduce her?
Walk away now, Isabella. Even if she wanted, she couldn’t easily walk away considering she had a sleeping, drooling infant on her shoulder.
Isabella stared at Sidney. “You’re either way more observant than I thought, or I’m painfully obvious. I seriously doubt my eyes sparkle, and you’re delusional if you think my lower lip is adorable.”
“When you started yodeling that ridiculous song from The Sound of Music, that’s when you had me. Your joy spills over, and it’s completely infectious. I don’t know everything there is to know about you, Isabella—I’m not sure that’s even possible—but I can read your heart. You have a sweet, gentle, loving spirit that gets inside a man, grabs hold, and won’t let him go.”
“That’s, um…” Again, the man had rendered her almost speechless. “I doubt I’ll ever receive a higher compliment. Thank you.”
Sidney slid closer on the bench. “Tommy challenged me not to fall for you by the time of the Twilight Dance.”
Isabella inhaled a quick breath, hardly daring to breathe. “Is that right?”
“I told him it couldn’t happen. Not to focused, inflexible, Sidney Jefferson Prescott. No way. I told him I’d only come to Evergreen to reconnect with my sister and her family.” He chuckled under his br
eath. “Tommy’s one of your biggest fans, and he was pretty sure of himself.”
She would not ask. Could not ask.
“But you, Isabella…by the way, what’s your middle name?”
“Marie,” she said quietly.
“You, Isabella Marie Caccavale, made me lose that challenge. If you know anything about me, you know I don’t like to lose.”
They turned their heads as their friends came to claim their sleeping children and say good night. With a few minutes, she was alone again with Sidney. Perhaps she should have made her escape with the others, but something held her back.
Smoothing the skirt of her dress, Isabella rose from the bench. “This has been a wonderful evening, but I should say good night, too.”
“Stay.” Reaching for her, Sidney captured her hand. “Dance with me one more time.”
A soft groan escaped her lips. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. It’s getting late, and we have church tomorrow morning.”
“Then may I walk you home?”
Still holding his hand, they began to walk.
Chapter 23
Sidney glanced up at the street sign as he walked beside Isabella. “White Pine Street.” She withdrew her hand from his. Not knowing what else to do, he shoved his hands in the pockets of his slacks.
“The white pine has been the state tree of Maine since the mid-40s,” she told him. “I’m sure you know Maine is The Pine Tree State, and the white pine is on the state flag. The pinecone is also our official state flower…even though it’s not even a flower. Go figure.”
When she started to pull her sweater around her shoulders, Sidney helped her into it. “Do you rent or own your house?”
“As crazy as it sounds, I bought my house sight unseen before I moved here. Aunt Clara and the Realtor—one of her most trusted friends—told me the former owners kept it in top shape for a house that’s over 70 years old. The brownstone in Hartford was even older. Nothing wrong with new, but the older ones have a unique charm, I think. Most of the homes in Evergreen are older, anyway.”
“Except for the suburban ones like Caroline and Seth’s,” he said. “The home in Beacon Hill is over 120 years old.”
“That’s what Caroline told me. It sounds wonderful.”
He shrugged. “A bit overdone for my liking. Compared to the warmth of Caroline’s house, it’s a mausoleum. That’s what we used to call it when we were kids. We have some hard decisions coming up whether to keep the house or sell it. It’s worth a large sum of money because of its location, and my parents maintained it well. But there’s something inside me that hates to let it go.”
“I can understand that, and I assumed you still lived in the house.”
Sidney shook his head. “I have a place within a few blocks of the office. With the unpredictable winters, it’s nice to be so close.” He didn’t want to talk about the penthouse or Boston.
“You know what I like about your street? Everything about it is so New England—patriotic with all-American charm.” He pointed to a home on the opposite side of the street. “You have a 17th century Colonial over there next to a Queen Anne Victorian. Then on the other side of the street”—he turned and pointed—“you have a Gothic Revival. What style is your house?”
“We’re here.” She led the way up a sidewalk to a small Cape Cod-style home. In the dim spotlights lining the front walkway, it looked like it was made from the natural, weathered gray cedar shingles typical of homes on the Cape.
“It’s perfect. Even without seeing the inside, I can tell it suits you, Isabella. Requisite white picket fence included.”
“If you’d like to talk for a few minutes, let’s sit on the porch swing. It’s more private.” Isabella hesitated. “Did Caroline drive you into town tonight?”
“I brought the car and left it on the far side of Landon’s.” He gestured to the walkway. “After you.” He waited for Isabella to take her seat on the double swing. Once she was settled, he sat beside her. Planting one foot on the porch floor, he gave them a small push.
“Sidney, we should talk about that conversation in the kitchen. I need to tell you more. First of all, I’ve felt the attraction between us from the start. I’ve tried to deny it, but it’s impossible.”
“I know you were hurt by Tristan, and that he betrayed you,” he said. “I hate that he did that to you. No one deserves that kind of treatment. If I met him, I’d deck the guy into next year.”
The tiniest smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “I appreciate that you’d want to protect my honor. I found out Tristan had traveled to New York several times with one of our account executives. They’d stayed in the same room. I need to be honest and tell you that Tristan and I were a couple for nearly five years, and we lived together for three of those years.”
“Were you ever engaged?”
“No, but we could have been.” Isabella stared straight ahead as though ashamed to look him in the eye. “Ironically, he’d asked me to marry him a couple of times, but I never felt as if he meant it in here.” She tapped her curled fist over her heart. “When I finally confronted him, Tristan threw his own shortcomings back at me as if his actions were my fault.”
“Classic defensive mechanism motivated by feelings of guilt,” he said. “A man needs to admit to his own failures. That’s hard to do sometimes.”
“It took me a long time to feel like God had forgiven me, even though I was a Christian and had confessed everything I’d done. I missed my mom so much after the breakup. Aunt Clara has been there for me always, loving me in spite of myself.”
Stopping the swing, Sidney angled his body to face her. She looked so beautiful in her pink dress. Her lovely eyes met his, shining, big, and trusting in the reflected moonlight. He never wanted to hurt her. Never wanted to tell her an untruth. Never wanted to say good-bye and not see her again. He needed Isabella Caccavale in his life.
“I’d never fault you for your past, Isabella. Ever. I’ve got too many sins in my life.”
“There’s more.” She drew in a breath. “Tristan more or less forced me out of the firm.”
Sidney hadn’t expected that revelation. “How could that happen? You were a co-owner.”
“I was, but he made my life miserable. He did some dirty, underhanded things that made me look bad to our clients and employees. Those who knew me well understood I couldn’t have done half the things he claimed. Finally, I sold out my half and signed it all over to him. Let him have it. It wasn’t worth losing my self-respect, or what was left of it. Believe it or not, Tristan came to Evergreen seven months ago. He wanted me back. Apologized all over himself. Seems a number of the bigger clients still wanted me to work on their accounts.”
“What did you tell him?”
“My life is here now, and that part of my life is over. I told him I’d pray for him, and then I asked him to leave. He did. That’s the last I expect to ever hear from him.”
“How did you feel knowing that clients wanted you back?” Sidney loved this woman’s forgiving spirit. Telling Tristan she’d pray for him was what he’d expect from her.
“I’ll admit that part was gratifying,” she said. “I could always freelance if I wanted, but at this point, I’m not ready. Those skills aren’t going to go away. I’m happy running the store and painting my landscapes for now. I’m content in my soul, and that means everything.”
Kicking off her sandals, Isabella propped one leg beneath her. “Your turn. How about you? Surely there’s been someone special in your past?” She lowered her gaze. “More than one, I imagine.”
“I’ve only had one relationship that lasted,” he said. “When I was 15, I met Olivia at the prep school we both attended. We were the same age, same year in school. She was beautiful, smart, and we dated each other exclusively from my high school days until my junior year in undergrad. She went to Boston College, and we got together as much as possible.”
Isabella remained quiet, waiting for him to continue.
> “She went to Italy on spring break and met a guy from California. One of those blond, beefy, surfer dude types. You know, you’re from California. She came back, told me it was over between us, and then she moved to California. I basically paid Olivia’s best friend to tell me where she’d gone. Like a lovesick fool, I flew out to Los Angeles to try and win her back. I couldn’t believe she’d ditch all that we’d shared for some guy she’d only known for a few days. But she turned me away and told me she never wanted to see me again, that all I cared about was becoming a power-hungry shark like my father. That cut pretty deep.”
“I’m sorry, Sidney. Did you ever see her or talk to her again?”
“No.” He shook his head. He no longer felt the pain of rejection he had for years. “For all I know, she married him, and they have a bunch of little surfboarders. I threw myself into my studies after that. Olivia taught me how fragile relationships can be. From that point on, I’ve poured everything into my career. There hasn’t been time for anything else.”
“Do you think what happened with Olivia damaged your ability to trust another woman?”
Sidney considered her question. “I honestly don’t know, but in retrospect, I’d say it probably did to a certain extent. What I do know is that I haven’t gone out of my way to actively pursue another relationship. There have been opportunities, but it’s not something that’s been a priority in my life.”
“Thank you for sharing that with me,” she said.
He needed to tell her the rest. “My dad cheated on our mom. A lot.”
Isabella’s eyes widened. “Oh.”
“My personality is a lot like my dad’s—driven to succeed. In Dad’s case, it was at the expense of my mom’s self-esteem. Infidelity is a horrible thing. Mom withdrew and was distant for a long time, even from her children. The affairs decimated her. I figured out what was happening, but at the time, I was 17 and heavily involved with Olivia.”
When Isabella reached for him, Sidney took her hand in his. “Dad was my hero. I admired him for his brilliant mind, I was proud for his success, but I hated him for what he’d done to Mom. I was a messed-up kid for a while. I tried smoking weed and drank myself into oblivion a lot of weekends. No one was there to tell me not to do it. I’m just thankful I never got caught or hurt anybody else, especially Olivia.”
