Suddenly Last Summer

by Sarah Morgan

  So he lied when it suited him. Why was she surprised? She’d spent long enough with a man who had done just that to know what people were capable of.

  She slammed a pan onto the burner and saw Poppy jump.

  “Everything okay, Chef?”

  “Everything is just fine.” She poured in oil and waited for it to heat before adding garlic and ginger. “Couldn’t be better.”

  She didn’t care about herself. She had no interest in whether Sean O’Neil slept with the whole damn female staff in the hospital, all she cared about was that he’d broken his promise to little Sam.

  How could he do that?

  How could he lie to a child?

  That was the lowest of the low. There was no excuse.

  “Are you sure you’re all right?” Poppy was by her shoulder, looking anxious. “It’s just that you’re burning the garlic, Chef.”

  Élise glanced down at the pan.

  It was true. The garlic was dark and had that bitter aroma that offended her sense of smell.

  She’d burned it, like an amateur. It was years since she’d done that.

  With an exclamation of disgust she pulled the pan off the heat and stepped away, hands raised. “I should not be cooking tonight, I am too upset.”

  “Of course you’re upset.” Her voice soothing, Poppy reached across and switched off the burner. “You’ve had a traumatic day. We’re all worried about Sam. I’ve been asked a million times how he is. Sometimes you think people are only interested in whether their steak is perfectly cooked, but then something like this happens and you realize they do care. Restores your faith in human nature to be honest.”

  Did it? Her faith in human nature had been shattered years before and nothing she’d seen today had done anything to restore it.

  It was like Pascal all over again.

  Poppy nudged her out of the way and started with a fresh pan. “Go and talk to the guests, Chef. We’re fine here. I’ve got everything in hand.”

  Talk to the guests.

  Élise blinked. Breathed. Yes, she’d do that.

  And she’d stop thinking about Sean.

  If anything she should be pleased he’d shown his true colors. For a moment when he’d saved Sam’s life she’d been ready to lay down her own life for him. She’d been in awe. Totally overwhelmed by how amazing he was.

  But she had no admiration for a man who broke promises to a child.

  She wandered between the tables, a smile fixed on her face, her mind elsewhere.

  “Any news on little Sam, Élise?” A family staying in one of the lodges looked at her with somber faces as she walked into the elegant dining room.

  “The doctors are very pleased with him.” It always surprised her how quickly bad news spread, but perhaps that wasn’t so surprising given the size of the resort and the fact that some of the guests had been coming to Snow Crystal for years.

  “I saw him on that new bike of his with his dad. Looked so pleased with himself. Such a shame.”

  “His poor mother. They’re saying if it hadn’t been for Dr. O’Neil the boy would have died. He’s a real hero.”

  “Is he doing all right, Chef?” Even Tally, the head waitress whose customer service was second to none, left the table she was serving to get an update.

  Élise murmured words of reassurance, expressed a hope that everyone was enjoying their meal despite the events of the day, and moved around the room.

  At every table she faced the same questions. The same exclamations. The same talk of Sean’s heroics until in the end she took refuge back in the kitchen.

  “All anyone can talk about is Sam and Sean.”

  “How is the little guy, Chef?” Antony, her newest recruit, and the most junior member of her kitchen staff, looked up from dicing vegetables. “He was in here last night eating his favorite pizza. And he told me he loved his chocolate birthday cake. Great kid. Good job Dr. O’Neil was there.”

  Élise ground her teeth and forced herself not to pounce.

  “Sam is doing well. But it’s important that we don’t all lose focus. Our guests will still expect to eat good food. They don’t want the staff to fall apart.”

  “Yes, Chef. I mean no, Chef.” Antony looked nervous and she felt a flash of guilt.

  She was a perfectionist, that was true. People were paying good money to eat her food and they deserved it to be just right. But she wasn’t a bully.

  And she knew that in this case her temper didn’t originate from a fall in standards, but the fact that she kept imagining Sam waking up alone and wondering where Sean was.

  I won’t leave you, that’s a promise.

  Poor Sam. He was about to learn at an early age that people made promises when it suited them and then broke them without a second thought.

  She kept imagining Sean’s long, strong limbs entangled with those of the nurse.

  But mixed up with those thoughts was an entirely different vision of him, this time with his hands sure and steady as he worked to save Sam. She kept hearing his voice, reassuring and kind as he’d calmed the panicking child. And then she kept seeing him, sitting by the boy’s bed and smiling at the nurse.

  “Merde.”

  Antony jumped. “Chef?”

  “Nothing. You are doing well. I’m lucky to have you on my team.” She forced herself to get on with her job, furious that she’d allowed herself to be so distracted.

  By the time she’d finished her shift, she’d worked herself into such an angry state that she walked the distance to Heron Lodge in half her usual time.

  She took the steps to the deck two at a time and stopped dead when she saw Sean sprawled on the chair on her deck.

  He was the last person she’d expected to see.

  Her heart lifted and then a breath hissed through her teeth and all the anger she’d kept contained throughout her shift burst to the surface. There was no question of reining it in.

  “What are you doing here? Get off my deck you ’orrible lying piece of—” She used a French word and saw his expression shift from warm to wary.

  “Sorry?”

  “You expect me to greet you with open arms after what happened? How do you think I feel?”

  He was very still. “I should imagine it was upsetting to witness.”

  “Upsetting? That is an understatement. For a while I thought you were a hero but now I know there is nothing heroic about you, Sean O’Neil.” The emotion of the day spilled out unrestrained. “Nothing.”

  “I agree. I was just doing my job.” Mouth tight, he rose to his feet. “Look, it must have been pretty shocking for you, I understand that. Why don’t we—”

  “Stay away from me.” Furious, incensed, she lifted her hand in a stop sign. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay away from me. Don’t come any closer.”

  Of course, he ignored her. “If you’re half as tired as I am you need to lie down. Let’s go inside.”

  “You think I would lie down with you? After what you did? Because you save a life and behave like a hero and buy your grandmother flowers, you think you are this great big gift to women, no?” She was so angry she stumbled over the words, switching from English to French and back again. “You think you’re so irresistible.” He was just like Pascal. Exactly like Pascal.

  “Wait a minute, just rewind—” he frowned “—a moment ago you called me a lying piece of— What did I lie about? And what does buying Grams flowers have to do with anything?”

  “Go away!”

  “Not until you tell me what you think I lied about.”

  The fact that he needed to ask tipped her over the edge. “Why are you here, anyway? Did she kick you out? Or did the great Sean O’Neil break his own speed record for leaving a woman’s bed?”

  “Did who kick me out?”

  She curled her fingers into fists, the misery a solid lump in her throat. “You can’t even remember her name. You disgust me.”

  “Honey, I’m so tired I can barely remember my own n
ame.” But amusement had been replaced by irritation. “Do you want to tell me what’s going on here? Because I’m coming up blank.”

  She’d backed along the lake path but still he kept coming, across the deck and down the steps until he was standing right in front of her. “I want you to leave. Now.”

  “I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s made you so mad.”

  “You broke a promise! You say—said—” she fell over the words in her temper “—you said things but you didn’t mean any of them. It was all lies.” Furious with him and with herself for believing him, she gave him a massive shove just as he stepped toward her and he lost his balance and toppled into the lake.

  There was a huge splash and Élise was showered first with water droplets and then with male cursing.

  “What the hell is wrong with you? I only put these clothes on half an hour ago. That’s two sets I’ve ruined today. I go through more clothes in Snow Crystal than I ever do in Boston.” Swearing, he hauled himself out of the water, dripping all over the path and a million miles from his usually sophisticated self.

  “I want you to go away.”

  “Yeah, I got that message.” He wiped the water from his eyes and glanced down at the shirt now plastered to his chest. “Before I do that you’re going to tell me what promise I supposedly broke.”

  “You don’t even remember! You break promises so often you don’t even care.” She ran up the steps, picked up a glass candleholder that was on the table and hurled it at him. “You promised Sam you wouldn’t leave him.”

  He ducked and there was a splash as the candleholder landed in the water. “That’s the promise?” He stared at her through eyelashes clumped together with water. “We’re talking about Sam?”

  “Yes. He was terrified and you took his hand and you were so cool and calm and you promised him, Sean. You said those words as if you meant them and then you—then you—” Her normal fluency deserted her and she switched to French, abusing him with words that any taxi driver in Paris would have admired.

  His bemused expression told her that his education hadn’t included listening to many French taxi drivers. “I’ve lost you. If you’re going to insult me, do it in English or at least textbook French.”

  “You promised him, and then you left ’im to go and ’ave sex with that nurse with lascivious eyes and a too-red mouth that pouted like so—” She pushed her lips out in an exaggerated imitation of the other woman and saw his brows lift in astonishment.

  “That’s what this is about? The nurse?” Water dripped down his face and he cursed again and wiped it away with his palm. “All this throwing and screaming and pushing me in the lake is because you’re jealous?”

  “I am not jealous! This is not about me! It is about Sam.”

  “Sam told you to drown me and hurl a candleholder at me? I don’t think so. This isn’t about Sam, it’s about you, sweetheart.”

  “I am not your sweetheart.”

  “You’re jealous.” He said it slowly, like a revelation, and his sudden smile made her want to push him straight back in the lake and hold his head under.

  “Why would I be jealous? I do not at all care who you sleep with, tu me comprends?”

  “I do understand you,” he said calmly, “but the correct sentence structure should be ‘I do not care at all.’ You split the infinitive, baby.”

  “I am not your baby. And I will split as many infinitives as I want to split, right along with your skull! I am not jealous. I do not care that you slept with her. I do not care that you saved Sam’s life or that you bought flowers for your grandmother. I do not care about you at all!” She was yelling now. “I only care that you broke your promise to a child. You have no standards! Because of you he ’as learned never to trust people.”

  “Are you about done yelling?” Sean swiped his fingers through his sleek dark hair, sending more droplets showering his shirt. “Because if so, I’d like to say something.”

  “I don’t want to hear it! I don’t want to hear that she was pretty, that it didn’t mean anything or that you slipped and fell on her or any of that shit men say when they’re making excuses for bad behavior.”

  “How about the fact that I didn’t sleep with her. Do you want to hear that?”

  “I am not listening to your lies!” She clamped her hands over her ears. “And I don’t care, anyway.”

  “Sure you care, but you’re so damned scared you won’t let yourself listen. And after what you told me last night I understand that. But I’m not him, Élise. I won’t let you transfer your feelings for him onto me.”

  She paused, her breathing shallow.

  Remembering just how much she’d told him made her squirm. “It is not for myself that I care. We have no relationship. We are not together and you don’t owe me anything. It is not at all the same thing as with Pascal because my feelings, they are not engaged.” She stumbled, groping for words, frustrated when they poured out in the wrong order. “I am angry only for little Sam. I don’t care what you do.”

  “You don’t care?” Sending her a meaningful look, he squeezed water from his shirt. “Are you sure? You seem pretty wound up for someone who doesn’t care. And because I can see you’re very upset, I’ll say it one more time. I didn’t touch her. I wasn’t with her.”

  “I was there, Sean. I was there when she made you that offer and gave you that smile. Merde, I’m surprised she didn’t just drag you into Sam’s bed to save time! I was there.”

  “But judging from the fact you just pushed me in the lake and almost dented my skull with a candleholder, you weren’t there when I turned her down.”

  “I—” Turned her down?

  Her temper, unleashed on full throttle, suddenly screeched to a halt like his sports car at a stop sign. “You turned her down?”

  “Yes. And next time you’re wondering where I am, you could pick up the phone or just send me a text. I gave you my number, remember?”

  “I would never call you. Or text you. You—you—” Relief mingled with the realization that she’d made a giant fool of herself and Élise subsided. The relief terrified her most of all. She shouldn’t care, should she? She shouldn’t care this much who he kissed or what he did? She shouldn’t care that he hadn’t stayed with Sam. He’d said it to reassure Sam and reassurance was important in a situation like that.

  As usual she’d overreacted.

  She was tired, that was all.

  Stressed after the terrible events of the day and the outpouring of emotions the night before.

  “Je suis desolée. I have this terrible temper and I thought, I thought—” her breath caught “—please could you go now.”

  He frowned. “Élise—”

  “Go. You are right. I am very tired. I need to lie down.”

  “We should—”

  “No, we shouldn’t.” Even if he hadn’t gone off with the nurse, it didn’t change the fact that he’d broken his promise to Sam. It was the wake-up call she needed. Exactly the wake-up call she needed. “Go. Please. Go right now.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “I SAW AN interesting sight last night on my way back from town.” Tyler was crouched in the dirt with Jackson, fixing a new wheel onto Sam’s bike. “Nothing wrong with this as far as I can see. Kid was just unlucky. And unstable. He shouldn’t have been on that trail. It’s clearly marked, so stop beating yourself up and blaming yourself. Hand me that wheel, will you? This is going to be good as new when I’m done.”

  The buckled wheel lay on the ground, a distorted reminder of the horror of the day before.

  “So this interesting sight—” Jackson focused on the conversation, grateful for anything that stopped him thinking about blood and hospitals. “Blonde or brunette?” He hoped it wasn’t a redhead.

  He hoped it wasn’t Janet Carpenter.

  “It wasn’t a woman.”

  Jackson breathed again. “You notice stuff that isn’t female?”

  “I noticed this.” Tyler pushed the
new wheel down into the frame. “This was our brother. Dr. Cool. He was walking along the lake trail from Heron Lodge.”

  Absorbing the implications, Jackson straightened, Janet Carpenter forgotten. “I’ll kill him.”

  “Judging from his somewhat rumpled appearance, I’d say someone already tried to do that. He’d taken a swim in the lake and I’m guessing it wasn’t voluntary.” Tyler caught his finger in the spokes and cursed.

  “He is spending far too much time with Élise. Shit, you’re bleeding. After yesterday, I never want to see blood again. Clean it up.”

  “Your sympathy overwhelms me.” Tyler dealt with the blood and then reattached the brakes, his fingers swift and skillful. “That’s what I find interesting. Every time I turn around, he’s right there panting over her. When has he ever spent time with one woman before?”

  “I don’t care who he pants over as long as it isn’t Élise. You know what Sean is like. When it comes to women, he’s trouble.”

  “Maybe. Maybe that’s why she pushed him in the lake.” Tyler wiped his brow with his forearm. “But looking at his face, I’d say he was the one in trouble this time. Knowing the way Élise feels about relationships, he might be about to be served a spoonful of his own medicine.”

  Jackson frowned. “You really think it’s serious?”

  “No idea.” Tyler spun the wheel, checking it. “But he’s spent more time here in the last few weeks than he has in the last few years. Of course, that could be because of Gramps, but seeing as Gramps is looking healthier than you, I doubt it.”

  Jackson muttered under his breath. “You’re still bleeding.”

  “I’m done here.” Tyler turned the bike the right way up, spun the wheel and nodded with satisfaction. Then he swung his leg over the bike and rode it in a circle, testing the brakes.

  “You are four times too tall for that bike. You look like something out of a circus.”

  “Not letting the kid back on it until I’m sure everything works.” Tyler gave the brakes a final squeeze and sprang off. “Good as new.”