by Andrea Stein
“I thought that was never a problem for men,” she said lightly.
“You know what I mean. We never talk about us, about what happened then, or why you’re here now.”
“We never talk about the future either. Don’t you have to go back to California? For a man in demand, you seem unusually able to leave your life behind.”
“I can work anywhere I want. I’m not tied to any one place.”
They were almost shouting.
“You aren’t?” Caitlyn asked, her voice softening.
“Caitlyn, I don’t talk about the future because you don’t. You’re too busy dealing with the past, which you won’t talk about either.” Noah ran a hand through his hair. She had moved away from them as their discussion heated up, and now she watched him carefully.
“Would you want to talk about it?” she asked.
“Yes, I would, because I need to know if you can forget him, before I can talk about the future.”
Noah waited, the silence loud, marked by the ticking of a grandfather clock in the hallway. She stared at him, debating, and then she began.
“I got an internship right after college in London. Maxwell asked me if I wanted to work at the firm, and I said no. I didn’t want to do that. Anything to avoid coming back here, possibly seeing you. A week later, someone from a bank in London called and said they had ‘happened’ upon my resume. I am now sure that Maxwell was behind it, helping me out, but I never did find out for sure.”
“So I went to London. At first, it was an internship in the marketing department of the bank. It wasn’t very time-consuming, and I spent a lot of time going out. There was a young woman there, Zoë, who was my age, recently graduated from Cambridge. She was one of those people – you know, old, old money. She was playing around at the bank and spending most of her daddy’s money going to clubs and dinners. I went with her most of the time, though I took work seriously, too.”
“At the end of the summer, I got a full-time job at the bank, and Zoë didn’t. Not that it mattered much. She went to work in publishing and had a lot more fun. We shared a flat together, and I decided to stay on. I liked my job, and because of the people I met through Zoë, I came to the attention of the private banking division. They had a group that worked with very high net worth individuals, figuring out who they were, what they liked and targeting them. Were they interested in becoming art collectors? If so, we had art advisors to guide them through the gallery. If they liked the theatre, we got them seats to opening night, and so on. I became a chaperone to these events.”
It had been fun, and she had been good at it. It had all seemed so much simpler back then.
Noah nodded, encouraging her to go on.
“And one time I met Michael, not because he was a client, but because he worked for the same bank. I looked great that night,” she said, with a smile. The dress had been amazing.
“I had earned this reputation, the crazy Yankee, a curious mix of working too hard combined with the ability to party. Michael asked me to lunch the next day, and probably because I didn’t act all that impressed by him, even laughing at his pretensions, it went on from there. He said I was refreshing. I took it to mean I was naïve, and I spent a great deal of time planning my interactions with him. I hadn’t had many boyfriends, really, so…”
She trailed off, glanced up and, seeing she still had his attention, kept going. Noah had been her first real boyfriend, and her last serious relationship before Michael. Sure, in college, she had dated, but after Noah she’d been determined to keep things light.
“I think that was part of the attraction for him. One thing led to another, he wanted to get married and I said yes. It all seemed perfect. The accent, the clothes, the convertible roadster, the country house, the dinners, all of the right gestures. It made me feel grand. It made me feel respectable.
“As soon as I said yes, things began to get a little odd. Not that he became a different person, or any less attentive, he was just there a little less, a little less engaged. It seemed okay, healthy to spend the time apart, the perfect example of a modern couple, charming in our own right with no need to be selfish or jealous with each other. I still wanted to work, even though he kept telling me to stop. I thought it didn’t bother him. I thought everything was fine.” Caitlyn smiled. “It’s not like I have a lot of role models in the relationship department.
“Things went on like that, and I decided to come home from a trip to Paris early and surprise him. And I surprised him. In the most traditional sense of the word, right in the bedroom with Zoë. Who, I might add, I still considered a friend.”
She glanced at Noah and saw that he was staring at her, his jaw clenched tightly, his hands balled into fists.
“I was angry, and I moved out. I think that was what stunned him, that we couldn’t work it out. He still wanted to marry me, but didn’t think that he needed to observe the traditional idea of monogamy. That was a deal breaker for me, and he called me American and provincial.” Along with a few other things.
“Didn’t that make you angry?”
Caitlyn laughed. “Angry was an understatement. But I tried to take the high road, not telling people what really happened. He used that to his advantage, so suddenly I seemed like the bad one. What I had thought of as my circle of friends had shrunk considerably. My personal life was in shambles. I didn’t get the promotion I thought would and, well, London didn’t look so friendly anymore.”
“So my father called and suddenly good old Queensbay looked okay,” Noah connected the dots.
Caitlyn nodded. “I thought it would be better to get away, to come back, to see what this place held for me.”
“Did you ever love him?”
Caitlyn paused for a moment before answering. “I thought I did.” She didn’t add what she was thinking. Not the way I thought I loved you.
“So, I guess you’re over him?”
Caitlyn looked at Noah, held his deep brown eyes. “I would say so.”
He moved towards her, and she let him kiss away the memories. They still hadn’t talked about the future, or about their past, but she knew that could wait.
“You haven’t had it easy, have you?” Noah paused, his hands holding her face to his.
“I don’t know. Things could be a whole lot worse. Who said life was easy? As long as there is some fun in it.”
“We could have some fun now.” He skimmed his thumb along her cheek, his smile back, and Caitlyn felt relieved. She wasn’t ready for serious. She didn’t do serious anymore.
“Yes,” she agreed, wrapping her arms around him, “we could.”
Chapter 32
Queensbay was not a bustling metropolis, but there was enough in town that people could easily shop here, instead of always heading out to the large stores that lined the highway. On an evening like this, when the cold was settling down and there was a hint of rain, or possibly even some snow, everyone was staying close to home. People were coming in and out of the stores, nodding at one another and smiling.
Caitlyn looked around and stepped up to the pay phone, one of the last of its kind, lining up the change in front of her. Her breath froze around her as she glanced up and down the village street. In a place like Queensbay, which prided itself on its cleanliness and tidiness, the pay phone was in sharp contrast to that dearly held belief. Graffiti, mostly obscene, was scrawled over it in permanent black marker. Dried, blackened patches of gum were stuck along the metal casing, and there were crumpled bits of paper lodged along the sides.
She could only hope that the cold killed most of the germs that lived on the phone, but to be on the safe side, she kept her gloves on and dialed the number she’d found for Flynn. This was one call she didn’t want to make from the office, where she was seeing strange looks and sensing the cold shoulder, nor from her own cell phone. She was beginning to feel like it was better that no one knew about her association with Flynn. Perhaps it was paranoia, perhaps
it wasn’t, but she couldn’t be too careful.
It had taken her more than a week to decide to call him back. His last words had haunted her, keeping her awake at night, even lying next to the quiet, sleeping Noah. She hadn’t put the past behind her; she was obsessed with it. All she could think about was Flynn and his offer.
She waited as the line rang and rang. Three, four, five rings, and then it switched to voicemail. Caitlyn listened to the raspy voice on the other end, debating. The phone beeped and still she paused, waiting, and then said in a rush, before she could think anything more about it, “Flynn, it’s Caitlyn Montgomery. I want to talk. Call me.”
She held the phone tightly, gripping so hard she could see her knuckles turn white, waiting, for what? Him to pick up. Quickly she slammed the phone down. What had she done?
Caitlyn glanced around, and her mouth went dry. Her eyes darted quickly, and she looked for a place to hide, but the phone was not in a booth, simply an open, exposed phone that barely protected her conversation, let alone her actual self.
Marion, Mrs. Biddle’s housekeeper, was walking down the street and smiling. Caitlyn took a deep breath and eased the panic from her, stepping back from the phone and jamming her hands into the pockets of her coat, turning to face the beaming Marion.
“Well, we were just thinking about you,” Marion said, by way of hello. “Adriana tried to call you at your office to invite you for dinner.”
Caitlyn smiled and stamped her feet for warmth. Noah was in California, briefly, attending to some pressing business. She wondered if Adriana knew and that’s why the invitation was being extended. Adriana had sources everywhere.
“Please come. Adriana could use some company. You don’t have any other plans, do you?”
“I couldn’t impose.” Caitlyn knew she was being silly. Marion lived to feed people.
“Nonsense,” Marion said. “She already called your office, but they said that you had stepped out. She never does seem to be able to reach you at home.” Caitlyn chose not to respond to that.
“Why don’t you come along with me now? She’ll be so happy to see you. We’re having my famous pot roast, and my chocolate cake that you used to like so much.”
Caitlyn wavered. Marion’s pot roast was no joke, a mouth watering, hearty dinner that she remembered from long ago. That, and the fact that all that awaited her at home was a frozen pizza for one, was enough to convince her. Flynn could wait. It would be better if he did, probably more convincing.
“All right, dinner would be wonderful,” Caitlyn accepted, and Marion’s smile, if possible, grew wider as Caitlyn offered to carry her bags to the car for her. Marion chatted on, and Caitlyn let the wave of talk wash over her, a welcome relief from her other concerns.
<<>>
She had been blindsided by Adriana. All careful planning on the woman’s part, luring Caitlyn in for a friendly dinner in order to sic the ancient and not quite coherent Mrs. Smith-Sullivan on her.
Mrs. Smith-Sullivan claimed she was being robbed and could prove it. Caitlyn had paid attention, under Adriana’s watchful eye, knowing that if she blew her off again, she would hear about it.
It was almost time for the chocolate cake before Mrs. Smith-Sullivan, also known as Sully to her friends, told the story.
“The money is not in my account.”
“What do you mean?” Caitlyn had tried to reach for another glass of wine, but Adriana had moved it just out of reach. Caitlyn shot her a look, but Adriana frowned at her. Listening to Sully required concentration.
“I went to get money from my account, and they said there wasn’t enough there. I told them they were mistaken.”
“Do you regularly get money from this account?”
Sully shook her head and waited as Marion brought in the chocolate cake.
“No. It’s a special account. It’s fed from my Randall account, and I rarely touch it. Only this was a special occasion.”
“Her grandson got into medical school,” Adriana said.
“And I wanted to give him some money for it.”
Caitlyn nodded. “Congratulations.”
“So I went to get the money. A certified check and they said there wasn’t enough money in the account. I was certain they were mistaken because I am supposed to have money transferred into that account on a regular basis. And, according to all of my statements, there was no reason why the money shouldn’t have been there.”
“Okay,” Caitlyn said carefully. She hoped it was all just a misunderstanding on Sully’s part.
“Well, I called and complained.”
“Who did you call?”
“Tommy Anderson.”
“And?”
“Well, he looked into it and said there must have been some mistake.”
“Did you get your money?”
“Eventually.”
<<>>
It wasn’t until after Sully had left that Adriana really came after her.
“Thank you for coming over here, Caitlyn.”
“It’s not a problem,” Caitlyn said, as she took her last sip of coffee.
“Are you sure?”
“What are you asking, Adriana?” Caitlyn looked at her.
“Something that is none of my business. I’m old; it’s my right. I am just wondering why you’re here with me, instead of someplace else.”
Caitlyn put her cup down in her saucer. So Adriana did know. “Noah had to go back to California for a day or two.”
“I see.” Adriana looked Caitlyn over carefully. The glow, which had been on her cheeks the past few weeks, had dulled. She looked tired, a little drawn.
“You know,” Adriana said, “I remember when you were younger.” Caitlyn looked up, about to say something, but Adriana rushed on, “I remember that summer quite well. Where had you been?”
“I went abroad for a term, in high school. To Paris.”
“Yes, I think you needed that time away to fully emerge. I mean, you had changed slowly, but we all needed that time apart to realize how much you had grown, how much of a young lady you had become. It was hard for your grandfather to accept that. You weren’t a little girl anymore, and your mother, I believe, was away.”
Caitlyn nodded. Her mother had decided to spend part of the summer in an artists’ colony in Maine. Once again, it had been just Caitlyn and her grandfather, an arrangement they were used to and perfectly happy with.
“Noah Randall was home from college, deep in it with his father, trying to convince him that he would never be just a banker, trying to get the money to start his company. He came to ask me for advice. Did you know that?”
Caitlyn shook her head. She hadn’t known that.
“I told him to be careful about it. That what he wanted to do was difficult, that there was a limited amount of success of any kind available for these ‘start up’ businesses. He told me he didn’t care and explained it to me in such a way that I understood the passion and commitment he had to the idea. I still wasn’t sure if it would work – I certainly didn’t understand all of the ‘technology’ stuff he was talking about, but I did manage to find him opportunities to meet people, see people, telling him it had to be a secret. I didn’t want to openly come between a father and a son.”
Caitlyn wondered where this was leading. She ran her finger over the smooth rim of the coffee cup, looking around Adriana’s sitting room.
“I saw a great deal of him that summer, and it was clear to me – I think it was clear to everyone else – that he fell in love with you. Yes, he had known you all of his life, but he described you to me the same way he spoke about his passion for his company. They were all intertwined for him.”
“Really?” Caitlyn said, her voice faint. A rush of memories came back to her.
“I saw you as well, and while you were never quite as romantic as he was on the subject, I don’t think I have seen two young people so much in love.”
“It was a wond
erful summer,” Caitlyn agreed.
“Your grandfather worried that you might go in the same direction as your mother, even though he thought Noah was a much better choice for you than your father had been for your mother. I told him to trust you, that you weren’t your mother.”
Caitlyn looked down at the carpet.
“I hope I was right?” Adriana asked quietly.
“For the most part. We spent a night together, but nothing happened, at least not that. Noah wanted to, but I said no, that I wasn’t ready. We settled for something more innocent. We also fought that night. He told me he was going to tell his father he was going to drop out of college and head to California with his friends, to start up his company. Instead of being supportive, I told him he would regret disappointing his father. He thought I was being a snob, that I wouldn’t like him if he didn’t follow the tried and true path. I suppose you could say that killed the mood as much as anything.”
“But you didn’t go home that night?”
“No. I told my grandfather I was staying at a friend’s house, so I wound up going there, and then the next morning when I finally did sneak home, the police were waiting for me.”
Adriana was silent for a moment before saying, “I thought that might have been what happened. I saw the two of you at his funeral, but you weren’t together anymore. Something had been broken.”
“I pushed him away. I felt guilty. If only I hadn’t gone out of the house, if only I’d hadn’t been with Noah.” Caitlyn, her eyes wet with tears, turned to Adriana. “What could have been so bad as to make him kill himself?”
Adriana answered, her mouth set in a grim line, “My relationship with your grandfather was over by then because someone had threatened to tell Trip, my husband. That would have been a disaster. He was a large investor in the firm, and I could only imagine what he would have done if he found out. He would have tried to destroy the company at all costs, even to himself. So I ended it with your grandfather.”
Adriana wasn’t looking at Caitlyn, her eyes focused off in the distance, as if she too could reach and touch those times. “And then he killed himself. And there were the stories about the missing money. Maxwell took the blame for not being vigilant enough, promised it would never happen again, that he needed some more time. Some people were willing to give it to him. I wanted to destroy him because I thought he was blaming Luke for things, using him. I told my husband to pull his money out and watch the company go down. Trip refused, and I couldn’t, without explaining it to him, force him to do it. It survived but just barely.”
