by Paige Rion
She hurried out of her car and took out the two grocery bags, hefting them in her arms and wondering if the contents would even fit in the new picnic basket she bought. She kicked the car door shut and turned, then paused in front of the walkway.
Off to the left of the huge driveway sat a car she hadn’t noticed when she pulled in. A car that looked suspiciously familiar.
Rachel. Shit.
Andi hurried up the sidewalk and let herself in the front door. She stopped in the kitchen and dropped everything in her arms onto the counter, then made her way into the office. Ms. Perry glanced over at her, the lines of her face curled in irritation.
Ford’s door stood open, and inside, she heard high-pitched laughter.
No need to get angry or upset. Rachel had told her she wouldn’t give up.
But this job was hers! No one would do better, especially Rachel, since all she cared about was a wedding and money.
Rachel emerged from Ford’s office with him behind her. Her short summer dress rode up her thighs as she moved, and she laughed so hard at something he said that she almost ran into Andi, who stood there, staring, while something twisted in her stomach. Ford’s smile stretched across his face but it fell when he noticed her.
Rachel reached out and patted Andi’s arm. “Oh, there you are. It must’ve been such a miserable day for Ford yesterday, with the media and all. I thought I’d come see if he needed a reprieve from this stuffy office. He took me up on my offer for lunch at Nicolette’s.”
Andi glanced down at the spot where Rachel had patted her arm, then looked back at her so-called friend. She didn’t even have the decency to look guilty.
Ford ruffled his hair with his hand, then shoved it back in his pocket. “Uh, yeah. Do you need anything before we go?”
Andi shook her head, unable to say anything. She had been foolish to think Ford would want her company as a way to take his mind off things. What was she thinking, trying to be his friend?
“Okay. We’ll be back in an hour or so,” he said. With a hand on the small of Rachel’s back, he guided her past Andi, but instead of taking the hall into the foyer and out of the house, they headed for the kitchen.
The groceries!
Andi sprinted after them. She shoved her way past Rachel and into the kitchen, coming to a stop in front of the bags. She shoved the picnic basket in a cupboard and turned toward the cabinets with the bags in her hands.
“What’s all that?” Ford asked.
Andi avoided his gaze and kept her head down. “Um, I just got some food. You know, for lunch and stuff this week.”
Rachel scoffed. “Looks like a lot of stuff. Do you plan on eating like a trucker? And what’s with the picnic basket you crammed into the cupboard?”
Andi paused on her way to the refrigerator, raising her gaze to glare at Rachel. “I thought when the weather was nice, I’d have lunch outside.”
Rachel narrowed her eyes. “By yourself?”
“Maybe.”
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you bought that stuff for two people.”
Ford glanced back and forth between them while Andi fidgeted. She wouldn’t let Rachel embarrass her.
“I thought if Peter wanted to meet me one day, we could go,” she said through gritted teeth.
Rachel raised a brow. “Uh-huh, sure.”
Andi turned back to the fridge and opened the door, shoving the contents inside. “Anyway, you two have fun.” Bitch.
“We intend to,” Rachel said.
Andi waited until their footsteps faded and she heard the roar of an engine outside, then turned around and stared in the direction they had gone. Disappointment squeezed her chest like a vice. You’re an idiot, Andi.
When it came to men, Rachel won every time. Andi had always been awkward around the opposite sex, right up until she’d moved to college and grown her wings. There, she’d dated on and off the first year, reveling in a new sense of self-confidence, until meeting Peter. Older. Successful. A professor. He’d entranced her from the start. Still did, which was why she was probably better off keeping her relationship with Ford strictly professional. She was his employee, not his friend, not his confidant, and she needed to get used to that idea.
Though she feared losing the job to Rachel’s charms, she couldn’t play her game. It wasn’t hers to play. And if it were, she’d probably lose. She needed to stick to what she was good at and remember her priorities. She was a writer and a hard worker. The work, the job, the things that really mattered were where she would win her place with Ford. She nodded as if she had convinced herself.
But if she had, then why did she feel such a sense of loss? As if she was missing out on something greater?
CHAPTER EIGHT
Andi threw her bag on the kitchen floor. “Mom?”
She moved through the kitchen into the living room. The ticking of the old grandfather clock in the corner of the room was the only sound.
Where was everyone?
It didn’t matter, anyway. She was better off alone tonight. The deep clawfoot tub upstairs was calling her name. All she wanted to do was slink down in the scalding water, full of bubbles, until her skin turned red and her toes pruned.
She headed toward the basement stairs. Her father had installed an extensive wine cellar years ago, when he began making his own wine. In the early years, when she was a teenager, Andi used to siphon some of the wine just before he bottled it, then sneak it out to the cove. Back then, it had tasted like battery acid, and Andi swore it could burn a hole right through your stomach, but in recent years, she had grown to appreciate the bold, red wine. And right now, a bottle of his dry red was exactly the medicine she needed. It would erase the tension in her neck, the ache in her back, and most importantly, it would wipe away the image of Rachel giving Ford a goodbye peck on the lips after their lunch out, something that bothered Andi far more than it should have.
Andi had just turned the knob on the cellar door when two arms wrapped around her from behind. She jumped with a yelp, heart galloping in her chest, before recognizing the feel of the body behind her. She breathed in the familiar scent of Peter’s cologne and her heart slowed to a trot.
“You scared the crap out of me.” She leaned her head into him. “Where are my parents?”
“I saw your mom when I got here. She’s running some errands in town and your dad’s at the mill. I came over because I have some good news. Well, two pieces of good news, actually.”
She turned in his arms. “I could use some good news.”
His eyes searched her face, the gleam of excitement darkening to concern. “Bad day?”
Andi nodded. “We’ll talk about that after. First, tell me about this wonderful news.”
“I think I’m going to get the research grant for my project. I’m so close. I talked to the board of directors today and my latest proposal and statistics intrigued them. They’ve set up a meeting to talk to me over dinner about the project. It’s pretty much a formality.”
Andi smiled. She knew how hard he had worked on his proposal and how much he wanted the grant for this experiment. At least one of them was having success on the business side of things.
“That’s awesome. We should totally celebrate. Let’s get some champagne or something.” Yes, getting drunk is exactly what she needed.
“Okay, and we can order in. Veg out, watch a movie. It’s our Friday night ritual, anyway, and it’ll remind you of what you’ll be missing if you go to New York in the fall.” Peter gave her a quick peck on the lips. “What do you say? And maybe you could even come to my place … stay over again?” His voice deepened as he trailed his fingers down Andi’s arm.
“Yes to ordering in and a movie. No to staying over.”
When Peter narrowed his eyes, she added, “I need a good night’s sleep and really want to have a good day tomorrow. That means sleeping in a familiar bed and no distractions. Plus, my parents might not think I’m innocent, but I feel weird about them knowing
I spent a couple nights at your place since you arrived. What I do away at school is different.”
“So I’m a distraction now? And since when is being in my bed unfamiliar?” he asked, his voice low.
Andi cocked her head. “You know what I mean. I just need—”
“I get it. I don’t like it but I get it. You don’t have to explain, especially because we’ll have plenty of time for that. I have more good news…”
“Oh?”
He took her hands in his and intertwined their fingers. “You know my research assistant?”
Andi frowned. “Maggie? The grad student?”
“Yes. She’s going to use the project as her dissertation. She has family in Cleveland, so she’s going to stay up here for the summer if I get the grant, which I will.”
Andi’s forehead knotted. “I don’t get it.”
“I’m going to stay in Callaway Cove for the summer. I found a small cottage on the water I can rent for a steal, and Maggie and I can easily begin conducting the study here, since she’ll be only forty minutes away.”
Andi opened her mouth but she fell mute. This was good news, so why wasn’t she excited?
Peter’s smile fell at her expression, which only made her feel worse for her lack of enthusiasm. “Andi? I said I’m staying here for the summer.”
Andi choked out a laugh. “Yeah. That’s wonderful.” But even as she said it, she could hear the forced tone. For reasons she couldn’t explain, the news of his staying for the summer disappointed her. Why?
Because she questioned his motives. Was he staying to keep an eye on her? To find a way to get her to return to school in the fall? To sabotage her job? She couldn’t help but feel this was some form of manipulation.
Peter squeezed her hands. “We can go out when you’re not working and you can show me more of the town, all the local hangouts from when you were a kid. I can see so much more than I have on my short visits in the past two years. And best of all…” He curled a finger under her chin and lowered his voice. “We can have night after night together, if you want. I know you feel weird about your parents, but you can stay at my place as much as you want.” He leaned into her and pressed his mouth against hers.
Andi kissed him back. As long as her mouth was pressed against his, he couldn’t read her expression, which she was sure reflected her confusion.
Her mouth and body moved automatically, even while her mind scattered in a million directions, trying to pinpoint what about his staying bothered her. Peter loved her. And she loved him. He would be with her all summer before they’d have to part in the fall. That was good news, she tried to convince herself.
Peter pulled away and rested his forehead against hers. “Now that’s the kind of response I wanted.”
He held her close and looked into her eyes, his gaze warm, his touch soft as he brushed the hair from her face. Burning fingers of guilt squeezed Andi’s heart.
“So, now that we got all the good stuff out of the way, it should make the bad things easier to handle. What was so terrible about your day?”
Andi tensed. How could she explain what happened that afternoon without it sounding, well, bad? Uh, Peter, I planned a special picnic for my boss. You know, the one you’re already jealous of and don’t want me to work for? The drop-dead-gorgeous multi-millionaire? I’m disappointed because Rachel got to him before I could.
“Um...” She bit her lip, unsure of what to say and wishing she had never said anything at all. She was a terrible liar, and she knew Peter would see right through any half-baked explanation.
He reached up and pulled her lip from between her teeth. “Biting your lip? Are you nervous to tell me? What is it?”
“Nothing,” Andi said. “It’s just that, well, you know how I told you Rachel and Carma both applied for the job? They both wanted it bad, but when I got it, Carma accepted it and Rachel didn’t. She’s still trying to somehow steal it off me. She’s bound and determined to end up with Ford, and she thinks one way to secure the deal is to get the job with him. She was responsible for telling you to go ahead and show up at work that first day when she knew darn well they wouldn’t want that.”
Peter nodded, his eyes registering understanding. Encouraged by this, she continued, “And then today, Ford was having a hard time because of a new story about him that broke yesterday, and she showed up and took him to lunch. She always wears these super revealing clothes and flirts with him shamelessly.” Andi tried to keep the disgust from her voice, fearing Peter would misread it. “It’s so annoying.”
Peter furrowed his brow. “Okay, but why does that bother you so much?”
“Well, that part doesn’t.” Liar. “But she’s trying to take my job. Why would that not bother me? I need this job. I’m not just in it because I want to be the wife of a famous writer and sit on his yacht all day and attend fancy events. I want it because I want Ford-Delaney-level success.”
“Still, I don’t think she’ll get the job, and if she does get it by flaunting herself, then he’s not the type of guy you should be working for, anyway. I don’t see what the big deal is.”
Andi rolled her eyes, unable to help herself. “Really? What kind of guy should I work for, then?”
“Not one that looks at you the way he does.”
Andi’s face twisted while her heart leapt in her chest. “What? That’s ridiculous. How, exactly, does he look at me?”
“Like he wants more from you than research and coffee.”
Andi scoffed. “That’s absurd.”
“I’m right,” he said, pointing. “And even if I’m not, you’ve been friends with Rachel your entire life. Do you really think you should risk your friendship over this? What if this competition between the two of you turns to shit—then what?”
Andi had to admit she thought it possible. “So I’m the one who needs to concede? I didn’t do anything. I got the job because I was the most qualified.”
He raised a brow at her.
“What?”
“I think you got the job for more reasons than that. After all, it’s not like you need a degree for what you’re doing.”
Andi gaped. “I earned the job,” she hissed. “And excuse me for not having a job you deem worthy.”
“Listen, I’m sorry.” He raised his hands and lowered his voice. “I’m not trying to insult or upset you. I think you’re brilliant. I think you’re an amazing writer. You know that. I’m just telling you I think your friendship is more important than a job that may or may not help you get published.”
Andi squeezed her eyes closed, willing her pulse to slow and the burning red anger to dissipate. She had no guarantees Ford would help her with her career, but she didn’t need any. She trusted her instincts, and she knew Peter couldn’t understand. He had no idea how much succeeding meant to her, how much she wanted it.
Opening her eyes, she said, “My friendship will be fine. If Rachel would just knock it off, there’d be no problem. And if she wants to be like this, wants to put a wedge between us because of her selfishness, then that’s on her. This is my job. My dream.”
“I just—”
“No!” Andi slashed a hand through the air. “You’re done ‘just thinking.’ Ford will help me. And this conversation is over.”
Without waiting for a response, Andi turned and walked away from him. “I’m going to bed. You know your way out.”
She grabbed her bag from the kitchen, then bypassed Peter again, who stared at her as she marched up the steps to the second floor. She moved to her bedroom and plopped herself down on the twin bed. She blew out a long breath and trailed her fingers over the pink quilt, the one she’d had as a kid. She leaned back against the headboard, her head buzzing, listening until she heard the front door close.
God, her life had turned into one giant disaster since she’d returned home for the summer. Since when was her life so full of drama? She had been fighting with Peter nonstop, something they never did. She and Rachel were at odds, and who
knew about Carma? She’d been completely non-communicative lately.
A headache bloomed in the front of her skull and began to stab the right side of her face. She brought her fingers up to her temples and massaged away the pain. She needed a release, needed a way to forget the day, forget her problems for a moment, and a bath just wouldn’t cut it. The bottle of wine, maybe. But she knew what she needed the most. She needed to write. She needed just one good scene to get her through.
She leaned down and rummaged through her bag on the floor. Nothing.
Frowning, she pulled out the contents—wallet, folder, keys, lip gloss, old receipts, books. No manuscript. “Where is it?” she said aloud. Her hands moved inside the now empty bag. Crap. If it’s not here, then where?
Her head popped up. “Ford’s. I must’ve left it.”
What if something happened to it?
She jumped up from her bed, ready to grab her keys and race to work to retrieve her book when she realized the work day was over and she had no idea what Ford would be doing or if he was even home. Should she call?
If she couldn’t find her notebook, she’d lose half of her manuscript. She wrote better longhand, which meant going back and typing the manuscript later, and she had only typed a little over fifty percent of her book so far.
No. It would be fine. Take a deep breath.
Andi inhaled and released a breath of air.
She would go to work tomorrow and it would be sitting there on her desk, just where she left it. No harm done. No need to panic.
CHAPTER NINE
Andi approached the dock just behind Ford’s vacation home. A massive white sailboat with towering red and blue sails sat at the water’s edge. The bright blue lettering on the side caught her eye and she cocked her head to read the name, “Mercy.” Ford moved about the deck of the boat, while the cry of gulls echoed in the background, along with the distant blaring of a horn.
