The Sea Star

by Nash, Jean

  Susanna spun around at the sound of that beloved voice. Jay stood at the threshold, looking more regal than any monarch. A smile teased the corners of his provocative stern mouth. He leaned against the doorjamb, his posture relaxed, yet in his cool sea-blue eyes there burned a flame of vibrant excitement.

  “Jay!” she cried, and crossing the room, she flung herself joyously into his arms.

  He felt so warm, so strong, so wonderful against her. His arms clasped her hard. He rained a shower of ardent kisses on her radiant upturned face. It seemed a century at least since she had touched him and held him. He was everything that made her happy. He was all that she loved.

  “I’m so glad to see you,” she whispered.

  She wanted never to let him go. He smelled delicious as always, as if the sun and sea air were the essence of his being. His arms still held her fast. She felt his lips on her brow. Whatever had kept him away for so long, it was love, indisputably, that had brought him back.

  “Let me look at you.” He held her at arm’s length, smiling down at her with amusement as she tried to hide her face.

  “No, don’t look,” she protested. “Let me wash up first. I’m covered with grime.”

  “Very well,” he laughed, “but be quick about it. I know how you women are. ‘Let me wash up’ means ‘Give me an hour or two to transform myself into a fashion plate.’”

  She wrinkled her nose at him and disappeared into the lavatory, then surprised him by returning several minutes later with a dewy-clean face and her hair smoothed sleekly in place. “Was I too long?” she asked dryly.

  “Yes!” he said, sweeping her back into his arms and planting a kiss on her sassy mouth. “Now that I have you in my clutches again, I won’t ever let you out of my sight.”

  The words were spoken jestingly, but Susanna detected in them a serious intent. She couldn’t help saying, “How different you are in person from your letters.”

  “How so, Miss Tatterdemalion?”

  His teasing derailed her train of thought. “Don’t joke about how I look,” she warned, “or I will spend two hours trying to make myself beautiful.”

  “Even sackcloth and ashes couldn’t detract from your beauty. If you stepped on the Boardwalk now, wearing that exceedingly tatty dress, every masculine eye would still be riveted on you.”

  “Jay, be serious,” she demanded, though his high spirits pleased her. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

  “It was a spur-of-the-minute decision.” He settled on the rocker and reached into his coat for his cigarette case. “Do you mind if I smoke?”

  Susanna regarded him dubiously. Jay was not a man who made spur-of-the-moment decisions.

  “You know I don’t mind your smoking.” She fetched an empty candy dish for him to use as an ashtray. “Or has our long separation caused you to forget that?”

  His eyes darted to hers. Susanna saw a fleeting look of regret, but it was gone in an instant, replaced by a spark of devilment. “I deserve that,” he admitted. “I’ve been a footloose bachelor for so long that I’ll have to make a special effort to start behaving like a dutiful fiancé.”

  She frowned at the word “dutiful.” Aloofly, she said, “Pray don’t change your ways on my account.”

  Jay laughed, put down the cigarette case, and pulled her onto his lap. “I detect a note of coolness in your tone.”

  “Do you?” The words dripped ice.

  “No, not a note. It’s more a symphony. I feel chilblains erupting all over my body.”

  “You deserve them,” she retorted. “Now, let me go, if you please. Don’t expect me to fall willingly into your arms after you’ve practically ignored me for almost four months.”

  “No, of course not.” Jay suppressed a smile, remembering that she had done exactly that when he entered the room. “How inconsiderate of me.” He allowed her to rise. She selected a straight chair as far away from him as possible. “In all seriousness, Susanna, I’ve been trying to get here since the middle of February, but one problem after another has kept me away.”

  “What sort of problems?” Curiosity replaced her pique. “Do they have anything to do with Alan Devlin’s death?”

  “Who told you about that?” he asked sharply.

  “My mother.” His tone puzzled her. “I suppose Ford told her. Have the police learned anything?”

  “No.” A brief pause. “Nothing at all.”

  She wanted to ask more about the crime, but she could see that the thought of it troubled him. Tactfully, she changed the subject. “Your hotels are what kept you away, am I right? I know how that is. Although with Teddy here, I have fewer problems than I used to. What a godsend he is! It’s so stimulating working with a man like him.”

  “I’ve no doubt of that, Susanna. Your letters made it abundantly clear how highly you regard him.” He leaned back in the rocker and crossed his arms over his chest. “Where’s your ring? Why aren’t you wearing it?”

  His attitude had changed, but Susanna failed to notice it. “It’s in my jewelry case. I never wear it when I’m working.”

  “You’re not working now.”

  “No, but I didn’t put it on this morning because I knew I’d be doing some heavy work up here. I’ve decided to redecorate the tower rooms. They look so shoddy since we’ve done over the hotel. Did you have a chance to look around before you came upstairs? Didn’t Teddy do a splendid job with the renovations?”

  “Why don’t you wear your ring when you’re working, Susanna?”

  With her mind still on the hotel’s changes, it took her a moment to answer. “What? Oh, the ring. I might bump it against something and scratch or loosen the stones.”

  “Yes. I suppose that could happen.”

  “Jay, speaking of Teddy—”

  “Were we? I thought we were discussing your betrothal ring.”

  Now she noticed a difference in his gaze, and a faintly ironic ring in his voice. “Jay, is something wrong?”

  “Not in the least. What were you going to say about Teddy?”

  Why was he looking at her like that, like a jungle cat stalking a gazelle? Disconcerted, Susanna said rapidly, “I was wondering why you didn’t tell Teddy about Alan Devlin. When I told him about the embezzlement, he knew nothing about it, and he seemed hurt that you hadn’t confided in him.”

  “You told him about the embezzlement? I wish you hadn’t.”

  The words were spoken in an almost casual tone of voice, but a look in his eyes took her aback. “But, Jay,” she said, “don’t you think Teddy has a right to know about it? He told me that he had wanted that managerial position. Surely you knew that?”

  “No, I didn’t. It appears you know more about Teddy than I do, Susanna.”

  “Don’t be silly. I hardly know him at all except as a business associate.”

  “From the way you’re pleading his case,” Jay said, “one might get the impression he was a treasured family member.”

  For a moment she was silent. Something was definitely bothering him. “Jay, are you sure nothing’s wrong?”

  “Yes, I’m sure.”

  His gaze told her nothing, and she knew with a sixth sense that to question him further would be futile. Anxious to restore his good spirits, she said brightly, “Why don’t we go to the Boardwalk and watch the end of the Parade? If you’ll give me a moment to change, I promise I won’t take forever to dress.”

  “That’s a fine idea.” Jay rose and went to the door. “I’ll wait for you downstairs. I haven’t seen Teddy yet. Perhaps he can tell me about all the changes he’s made while I was gone.”

  After he left, Susanna remained in her chair as an incredible suspicion popped into her mind. Was Jay jealous of Teddy? No, of course not. How absurd. Jay was far too sophisticated to be jealous.

  She bathed with the speed of lightning and put on a lemon-yellow dress in the new “Grecian bend” silhouette, with a high-boned lace collar and lace-edged long sleeves. Instead of wearing a hat, she took s
ome daisies from the mantel vase and wove a cunning coronet. When she joined Jay in the lobby, she looked as fresh and as lovely as the flowers in her hair.

  “Is this the grubby waif I was with only a half hour ago?”

  “It is!” she said, glad to see that his mood had improved. “Did you talk to Teddy?”

  “No. George Watkins said he’s at the Parade with your brother. I hadn’t realized their friendship was so close.”

  “Jay,” she said tentatively, “you’re not angry with Teddy for some reason?”

  He tucked her hand under his arm and escorted her to the door. “Angry with him? Susanna, what a question. Haven’t I told you that Teddy is one of my very best men?”

  His answer somewhat mollified her. Perhaps she’d imagined that something was bothering him. By the time they reached the Boardwalk, Susanna had forgotten all about Teddy Addison. The Parade was almost over. A substantial crowd still trod the four-mile length, but there was room to move about now, unlike earlier in the day when not an inch of wooden planking had been visible.

  All the attractions were busy: the Japanese artists painting flower panels, the palmists, the shooting galleries and carrousels, the Ocean, Heinz, and Steel Piers. The “Queen of Resorts” was sporting her full summer regalia!

  “I had forgotten how lively this place is,” Jay said as they passed a pavilion where a brass band blared a Sousa march. “It’s like being inside a hurdy-gurdy.”

  “It is noisy,” Susanna agreed, raising her voice to be heard, “but it’s exhilarating, too. I’ve never been so blue that a stroll on the Boardwalk hasn’t lifted my spirits.”

  “I see what you mean.” Jay smiled when he spotted a capering clown distributing colorful balloons to laughing youngsters. “Being here makes me feel like a child again—except I don’t remember ever having been a child.”

  He spoke without self-pity, but Susanna’s hand tightened on his arm. She said with a catch in her voice, “You didn’t have a very happy childhood, did you?”

  He looked at her with some surprise. “Of course I did. Why should you think such a thing?”

  “Morgan told me about the hard times, when your family was poor. She said things were dreadful then and that you did a man’s work when you weren’t much older than her oldest boy.”

  Jay shook his head and laughed, but his eyes held no mirth, only memories. “Pay no attention to anything my sister told you. She has a tendency to exaggerate about those days.”

  Susanna was tempted to remind him that he himself had told her that his family had been plunged into a state of destitution such as he had never known existed, but she decided it would be kinder to say nothing. Morgan had told her that he didn’t like to think about those times. Susanna suspected they were constantly on his mind.

  They came to the site of his new hotel. Seeing that magnificent structure never failed to fill Susanna with pride. The exterior was essentially completed. The ornamental cladding gave the facade the look of unfolding leaves in shades of turquoise and fawn. There was a distinct Byzantine feel about the place, suggesting the great Venetian church in the Piazza di San Marco or majestic Saint Sophia’s in Constantinople. Whenever Susanna saw the domes and graceful buttresses, she always thought of Coleridge’s lines: “In Xanadu did Kubla Khan/A stately pleasure dome decree.”

  “Construction resumes tomorrow,” Jay said, leaning his elbows on the wooden fence surrounding the work area. “I’m particularly anxious to see this one finished.”

  “Why this one?” Susanna asked.

  “Because it’s the biggest, the best, and the safest,” he said quietly.

  “What have you named it?”

  “The Excelsior. It means ‘ever upward.’ It’s appropriate, don’t you agree? No matter how many hotels I buy or build, I still want better ones. I’m never satisfied with what I have.”

  A great surge of love and compassion flooded Susanna’s heart. She had never felt closer to him than she did at this moment. Jay was wealthy and successful. He had achieved in fifteen years what other men had not done in a lifetime. It should have compensated for his lean years; it should have made him happy and secure. But with her first clear insight into his sometimes puzzling nature, Susanna realized that it had done nothing of the kind.

  “I love you,” she said softly. “I love you very much.”

  He looked down at her and smiled, then encircled her waist with an arm. “Sunny,” he said affectionately. “Was there ever a name more perfect? You have the power to brighten even the darkest of days.”

  “Do I?” she said, nestling lovingly against him.

  “Yes, you do,” he assured her.

  But she wondered suddenly if her love was enough for him, if it had the power to brighten the shadows of a past that still haunted him.

  Fourteen

  How different life was now that Jay was in Atlantic City to share it with her. Every morning, Susanna woke up with a smile on her lips. Each day was a holiday, an adventure, simply because she was with the man she loved. He made no mention of marriage, but Susanna wasn’t worried. He was here, that was what mattered. Jay had come back to her as he promised he would. For now, that was enough to make her happy.

  Jay was extremely busy the first few weeks he was back. He was planning a grand-opening celebration for the Excelsior, the likes of which Atlantic City had never seen. Susanna knew that when he was occupied with one of his hotels, everything else took second place. She understood this temperament because she shared it, although not to the obsessive degree to which Jay carried it.

  He was continually in a state of energetic impatience. He had to personally inspect each installation in the hotel—the Numidian marble staircase, the Otis elevators, the stained glass panel in the lobby—and woe betide the party responsible if something aroused Jay’s disapproval.

  Laborers, artisans, and artists would blanch when they saw him coming. “This doorway has to be widened,” he would command, uncaring of the problems it might entail. Or: “I wanted Isfahan carpet, not Tabriz.” Or: “The draperies in the grand salon are an inch too short. Lengthen them at once.” Behind his back, the people who worked for him called him “Grainger the Hun.”

  With Susanna, however, he was another man entirely—warm and affectionate, although sometimes, beneath the surface of his calm, Susanna sensed the rumblings of volcanic unrest.

  He indulged her outrageously. Rarely did he call on her without bringing a gift: ivory combs for her hair, a necklace hung with chalcedony and onyx cameos, an obviously costly piece of porcelain in the shape of a soaring sea bird.

  “You mustn’t waste your money on me,” she constantly protested. “You need it for the Excelsior.”

  “I’m completely solvent now, my little watchdog. I can ‘waste’ as much money on you as I wish.”

  Unbidden, Dallas’s words rose to haunt her. He’s richer than Croesus.... Why should you have given him the Sea Star when he has hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions, in the bank?

  “Jay, how can you have money all of a sudden? You owed money on the Majestic. You had notes on all your hotels.”

  “It isn’t all of a sudden, Susanna. Five months’ time has filled my coffers, that’s all.”

  She chose to believe him. What reason did she have to doubt him? She knew very well the ups and downs of the hotel business. Besides, she was so happy to have him with her again that if he’d told her he had found a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow, she might possibly have believed that as well.

  She was happier with Jay than she’d ever been before. Their separation had changed him in a subtle but perceptible way. He was more aware of her now, more intensely attached to her. When they were together, he would touch her, embrace her, hold her face in his hands and gaze at her in wonder, as if awed and not quite believing that this precious prize belonged to him.

  When he kissed her, which was often, it seemed he couldn’t get enough of her. He would crush her in his arms, his breath would come faster,
mingling hotly with hers. He would whisper her name over and over again, kissing her, touching her, arousing her, inflaming her—but always he would stop at the point when she most wanted him.

  One morning in May, as they strolled on the deserted beach, an odd contemplative mood came upon him. It was early, not yet seven, a bleak sunless morning. A dense fog hung in the air, stinging the eye, chilling the bone. The beam of Absecon Light swung over the water. In the distance could be heard a mournful foghorn and the muted clang of a bobbing buoy. Although they walked arm in arm, Jay seemed a million miles away from her.

  “What are you thinking?” she asked, sensitive to his mood.

  “About you,” he said quietly.

  “What about me?”

  He looked down at her and didn’t answer. He just took her hand in his, traced each slender finger, then pressed slow ardent kisses to her sensitive palm. He raised his gaze to hers, his eyes deeply shadowed by the thick brush of his lashes. Still he said nothing, but in the stern curve of his mouth Susanna saw an emotion so intense it took her breath away. Her legs grew weak, she shivered with pleasure, and felt the imprint of his mouth on her skin like an indelible brand of ownership on her heart.

  He never answered her question. He never told her what he’d been thinking that morning, nor did she ask him again. Susanna had come to know that although Jay owned her, body and soul, there was a part of him that he wouldn’t or couldn’t share with her. If he were less obviously devoted to her, it might have worried her. But he loved her, she was sure of it, just as much as she loved him. For now, she was content with what she had of him.

  If Jay was a tyrant at the Excelsior, he was very near a saint at the Sea Star. With the staff—even with Dallas when he saw him occasionally—he was as friendly and as charming as could be. With Teddy Addison he was especially agreeable, so much so that Susanna’s suspicion that Jay might be jealous was completely wiped out of her thoughts.

  “You’ve done a fine job with the place,” Jay told Teddy one evening in June. “I knew I had picked the right man when I sent you down here.”