Suddenly Last Summer

by Sarah Morgan

  “She’s never told anyone else that. Not even Kayla and Brenna.”

  “Well, she told me. And she also told me she’d never go back to Paris. She was scared.” And guilty that she’d let her mother down. Lonely. Frightened. Sweat pricked the back of his neck. “Do you have an address? Do you know where that apartment is?”

  “No, and if I did, I wouldn’t tell you. Seems like you didn’t just rip up the sheets with her, you let her get close to you. You encouraged her to spill her secrets, something she has never done before by the way, and then you did your usual thing and told her you didn’t love her.” Jackson stood, legs spread, glaring at him. “You broke her heart.”

  Sean felt the ache in his chest throb. It was the same ache that had been there every day for a week. “That is not what happened.”

  “Really? Then why don’t you tell me your version, and tell me fast because right now I feel like putting a few dents in you. If you didn’t break her heart, why isn’t she still at Snow Crystal?”

  “Because she broke mine!” His tone raw, Sean paced to the other side of the room. “She broke mine, all right? And it fucking hurts, so don’t come here and lecture me about causing her pain.”

  There was a stunned silence. “She broke yours?”

  “Yeah. And now if you don’t mind I need to be on my own to think this through.”

  “I drove here to find out what’s going on and I’m not leaving until I find out.”

  Sean gritted his teeth. “I told her I loved her. She told me she didn’t love me. Do you need more detail than that? And you’re welcome to tell me I deserved it and that I finally got what was coming to me but I’d rather you waited until I’ve sorted this out.” He saw the astonishment in his brother’s face and gave a humorless laugh. “You’re thinking this is justice. Well deserved for all those women who cried on your shirt because I wouldn’t tell them I loved them. The first time I actually say those words to a woman it’s to one who doesn’t want to hear them.”

  “You actually told her you loved her? And she left?” Jackson’s brows rose. “I’m confused.”

  “Then you don’t know her as well as you think you do.”

  “I assumed she’d fallen in love with you and it wasn’t mutual. I assumed she’d left so it wouldn’t be awkward. If you’re in love with her, why did she leave? That makes no sense.”

  “It makes perfect sense. We’re her family. Or rather, you are.” Sean gave a grim smile. “Family is the most important thing to her. She’s spent the whole summer trying to get me to fix the damage with Gramps. Pushing me to talk to him, to heal things.”

  “And you did. So why would she leave?”

  “Because she thinks if she’s there, it will keep me away. She thinks I’ll come home less. That the family will see me less.”

  “Because you didn’t show up to family night?”

  “That was probably what put the thought in her head. Having just been rejected I wasn’t in the mood for family togetherness.”

  “And you’re sure you said those words? You didn’t just imply it, or assume she knew or—”

  “I said those words! Those three words I never thought I’d say. First time ever, well apart from Gramps but I don’t count that.”

  “Gramps?”

  “Never mind. For the record, I said them more than once to Élise, just so that there could be no misunderstanding. And no, she didn’t say them back, she didn’t run into my arms and no, we’re not going to live happily ever after. Can we stop talking about it now? Living through it the first time was hard enough. Reliving it isn’t much fun, either.”

  Jackson ignored him. “I’m surprised, because I actually thought—” He shook his head. “Never mind. It explains why she was so quiet at family night. And why she kept saying it was her fault that you hadn’t turned up.”

  “It wasn’t her fault. It was mine. I wasn’t in the mood for company, but I didn’t for a moment think she’d blame herself for the fact I wasn’t there, or that she’d decide she was a threat to our family.”

  “She was behaving very oddly. She told us all how much she loved us.”

  “Why is that odd? She tells everyone she loves them all the time. Everyone except me. Have you tried calling her?”

  “Her phone is switched off.”

  “Why would she switch her phone off?” His concern deepened. He thought of her going back to a place she hadn’t returned to since she’d left with Jackson. A place that held nothing for her except memories of violence and loss. The thought of her facing that alone made his chest ache. “I’ll fly to Paris.”

  “How are you going to do that?”

  “The same way everyone does it. I’m going to get on a plane.”

  “But you have work.”

  “This is more important. Élise hasn’t been back there for—how long is it? Eight years? Someone should be with her.” He pulled his phone out and searched for flights while Jackson gaped at him.

  “You’re going to take time off?”

  “I did it when Gramps collapsed.”

  “Gramps is family.”

  “So is Élise. People will have to cover for me.” Again. He already owed more favors than he could ever repay. “There’s a direct flight to Paris leaving tonight. All I need is the address.”

  “I don’t have an address. She’s worked for me for the past eight years.”

  “But you went to her apartment the night you rescued her. What do you remember about it?”

  “It was eight years ago and I was dealing with an abusive husband and a terrified woman. I wasn’t exactly looking at the neighborhood.”

  Sean reined in his impatience. “Think!”

  “All I remember is getting her out of there and trying not to break every bone in that man’s body.” Jackson spread his hands, clearly frustrated. “She lived near the river, I know that. We were in her apartment for less than half an hour. She just stuffed a few things in a case while I kept watch in case he showed up. I could just see the Louvre from her bathroom window. Rue de Lille, yes that’s it. She lived on the Rue de Lille.”

  “Apartment number?”

  “No idea.”

  Rolling his eyes, Sean booked himself a flight out of Boston. “Let’s just hope it isn’t a long street.”

  “You’re just going to turn up there and hope you can find her?”

  “If you don’t have her address, I don’t have much choice.”

  “How do you know she’s going to want to see you?”

  “I don’t. But I know that if she’s back in that place she’s going to need a friend.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  THE APARTMENT WAS coated with thick dust and a deep layer of memories. They choked her, suffocated her, made her throat ache and her eyes sting. It hadn’t changed. Nothing had changed and everywhere she looked she saw her mother. And mistakes.

  The feelings she’d buried pushed their way to the surface. Picking up a pot she’d made in school when she was eight years old, she turned it over in her hand, remembering her mother’s delight on the day she’d brought it home.

  She’d just been kidding herself, hadn’t she? When she’d thought she’d moved on, she’d been kidding herself. All she’d done was ignore the past, block it out, refuse to look at it like a child closing her eyes in a dark room so that she couldn’t see what was there. But she hadn’t really moved on. There was a big black hole in her life and instead of filling it in, she’d fenced it off and tiptoed around it, afraid to look at it, afraid that if she took one wrong step she’d fall back in.

  Tired after the long flight and crushed by the memories, she collapsed on top of the bed, unable to sleep, and spent the night thinking of her mother, tortured by guilt, knowing she couldn’t live here, sharing this tiny apartment with the ghosts of her past.

  But she couldn’t go back, either.

  Sean didn’t need another reason to stay away from Snow Crystal. The O’Neils didn’t need someone disrupting their famil
y.

  In the morning she threw open the shutters and stood for a moment watching sunshine dance across the roofs of Paris. The apartment was tiny but the position perfect, just a few steps from the river Seine. If she stood on tiptoe and peeped out of the small bathroom window she could see the distinctive architecture of the Louvre.

  With light and fresh air pouring into the apartment, she started clearing.

  It took her two days.

  She filled huge sacks with clothing and possessions. Some she threw away, some she took to a thrift store. She wanted no reminders of the past, no reminders of the bad choices she’d made, the consequences, the misery. The only exception to that were a few personal items of her mother’s and a collection of photographs. She’d had no idea her mother had taken so many. A quick glance showed that they ranged from baby photos right through to a clipping of Élise being the only woman in the otherwise all-male kitchen of Chez Laroche. Finding an empty shoe box she stuffed them inside, promising herself that she’d look at them properly one day, hoping the time would come when she’d be able to go through them without feeling bad.

  When she’d finished clearing, she vacuumed, polished and wiped until the place gleamed and not a speck of dust remained.

  It helped her to keep busy, to occupy her mind and to not think.

  She tried not to think about cooking with her mother, about those dark days with Pascal. But the one thing she absolutely couldn’t stop thinking about was the O’Neils.

  What would they be doing now? She glanced at her phone and calculated the time difference. It would be morning in Vermont and they’d be serving breakfast in the Boathouse.

  Kayla would be on her phone, checking emails. Tyler would be eyeing the female guests and grumbling about the work. Walter would be overdoing it. Alice would be knitting and worrying and Elizabeth would be busy in the kitchens with Poppy. And Jackson, dear Jackson, would be keeping everything going, steering the ship into deeper water so it didn’t smash to pieces on the rocks.

  Did they miss her? Did they think of her?

  No, probably not.

  She’d let Jackson down. After everything he’d done for her, she’d let him down.

  To drive out the guilt and the misery she worked herself to the point of exhaustion but still she couldn’t sleep and at night she lay awake in the bed listening to the scream of car engines, horns and sounds of the city finding it impossible not to think of Heron Lodge.

  She missed the peace of the lake, the nights when the only sound was the hoot of an owl swooping overhead. She missed the smell of the water and the fresh scent of the forest.

  She missed Sean.

  Not that she loved him, because she absolutely didn’t. She’d switched that part of herself off, refused to allow her emotions access to her decision-making or the way she lived her life. But they’d had a wonderful summer and she missed him. She missed the laughter, the flirting, his intelligence, his appreciation of food and wine and yes, she missed the sex. And she couldn’t stop thinking about him.

  Had he been home since that day he’d told her he loved her? Was he still staying away?

  She hoped not.

  She rose early and was sitting on the floor, sorting listlessly through yet another drawer full of photographs when she heard the unmistakable sound of male footsteps on the curving staircase that led to her top-floor apartment.

  She’d barely left the apartment except for her few trips to the shops. It was unlikely that anyone she knew had spotted her. Even less likely that Pascal would take the trouble to pay her a visit.

  All the same her heart stumbled as she heard the footsteps pause outside her door.

  Had Pascal somehow found out she was back?

  “Élise?”

  Her heart stumbled as she recognized Sean’s voice.

  Sean was in Paris?

  Scrambling to her feet, she pulled open the door. “What are you doing here? Has something happened to Walter? Or Jackson?”

  “Why do you always assume that when I show up there has to be bad news?” He held up a bottle of wine. “I found this amazing bottle of Pinot Noir and I have no one to drink it with. It’s wasted on Tyler and Jackson is too busy.”

  She gave a choked laugh. “So you flew to Paris?”

  “I don’t know anyone who appreciates wine and food like you do.”

  She stared at the wine, then at him. “What are you doing here? You should be in Boston, working.”

  “Some things are more important than work.” He stepped inside without waiting for an invitation and dropped his bag on the floor. “I heard you were in Paris. I thought you might need a friend.”

  “A friend?”

  “I don’t blame you for looking surprised. I don’t claim to be an experienced friend, but I have had plenty of experience of going back to a place that has bad memories so I figure I can learn the rest as I go along.”

  She was still dizzy from the shock of seeing him on her doorstep. “How did you find me?”

  “I threatened Jackson until he revealed everything he could remember about the view from the window. I got here and worked it out. There aren’t that many apartments that give a view of the river and the Louvre. I banged on a few doors and woke a few people up.” He put the wine down on the counter and glanced around him. “Nice place.”

  “It’s tiny.” And it seemed even tinier now that Sean was standing in it. Broad and powerfully built, he filled the space but there was something so reassuring about his presence she felt the tension rush out of her. She should send him away but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

  “If you’re done cleaning, do you feel like showing me around? Taking me to your favorite parts of Paris? You should have phoned me to tell me you were thinking of coming, then we could have flown together.”

  “I wouldn’t have done that.”

  “No. You’re too scared that calling me will turn what we have into a relationship. I get that.” He opened cupboards until he found wineglasses. “So, I’m starving and there’s nothing to eat here. What’s wrong? Your kitchen is usually crammed with food.”

  “I didn’t feel like cooking.” Because everything reminded her of her mother and remembering hurt too much. And perhaps he realized that because he watched her for a long moment and then nodded.

  “Right. Well I’m doubly glad I came because if you don’t feel like cooking then I know there’s something wrong. So where is the best place for dinner?”

  “Close by? There is only a local brasserie.”

  “That will do fine.”

  “Sean, what are you doing here?”

  He poured wine into glasses and handed her one. “I never thanked you properly, did I?”

  “Thanked me for what?”

  “For being there this summer. For pushing me to fix things with Gramps. For listening while I talked about Dad. For all of it.”

  “I didn’t do anything. You did it. You have nothing to thank me for.” She sipped the wine and it was so good, for a moment she closed her eyes. It made her think of Snow Crystal, of summer, of him.

  “Being with you got me through this summer. When I got the news that Gramps had collapsed—” he put his glass down slowly “—I felt as if I’d been kicked in the gut by a moose. And then when he told me to get back to Boston—I had no idea how to fix it—how to bridge that gulf.”

  “He loves you. He is so proud of you.”

  “I know. And I love him.” He gave a faint smile. “Listen to me, getting all mushy, as Tyler would say.”

  “I’m glad things are better.”

  “They are. I’ve even promised to be there for family night next month and I’m talking to Brenna about helping put together a pre-conditioning program for the winter.” He looked at the stack of shoe boxes on the floor. “What are those?”

  “Photographs.” She felt an ache in her chest. “My mother took a lot of photographs. I can’t face looking at them yet but I can’t bring myself to throw them away, either.
I’m glad things are better at home for you, but that still doesn’t tell me what you’re doing here.”

  “So far you’ve done all the supporting in this friendship, so I figured it was my turn. I thought I’d hang around in case you need someone to carry heavy boxes or punch ex-husbands.”

  Her gaze met his. “You’d crumple your shirt.”

  “Some things are worth the sacrifice.” He lifted his glass and drank. “So have you heard from him?”

  “No. And I don’t want to.”

  “Well, you don’t need to worry about it now because I’m here so if he shows up, he and I can have a little conversation. And talking of conversations, it’s your turn to tell me what you’re doing here.” He leaned against the counter, his broad shoulders dominating the narrow kitchen area. “What are you doing back in Paris when I know how much you love Snow Crystal? I know how much you love your job.”

  “I’m doing what I should have done a long time ago. I was a coward. I avoided coming back here because the place was full of bad memories.”

  “So put the apartment up for sale and then get yourself back to Snow Crystal. Winter is coming. Everyone is planning how to make the best of this season. You’re an essential part of the team.”

  Something twisted inside her but she shook her head. “I can’t do that.”

  “Fine. So don’t sell it. Rent it.”

  “It isn’t this place. I will sell it. I have someone coming around tomorrow to do a valuation. But I won’t be coming back to Snow Crystal. I’ll find somewhere else. Maybe not Paris. Maybe Bordeaux.”

  “Why? Because I told you I loved you and scared the hell out of you? That was a mistake.” His voice was soft. “If I promise never to say it again, will you come back?”

  “You think it was a mistake?”

  “Yeah, that’s right. Big mistake.”

  It was ridiculous to feel disappointed about something that she didn’t want, anyway. It made no sense.

  None of her feelings made any sense.

  “You’re right. We should go out.” She grabbed her purse and her keys and ushered Sean out the door. “Tell me how everyone is. How is Walter? Is he using his new machine to cut logs? And Alice? How’s her knitting coming along? Are Elizabeth and Poppy coping well in the kitchen?”