“Everett and I have discussed building a place of our own,” Charlotte admitted. “Rachel is a bit hesitant about moving out of the place we shared with her dad, but I think it would be a good fresh start for all of us.”
Kelli remembered that it had taken Charlotte years to even get rid of her husband’s shirts in the wake of his accident. Her house had operated as a kind of shrine to his memory. Kelli, Kerry, and Claire had fallen into non-stop conversation about what to do about Charlotte. It turned out the answer had fallen onto Everett’s shoulders instead.
“Some of the decor you picked is just stunning, Susan,” Kelli said, leaning up against the wall. “Did you find yourself drawn to a different style this time, as you built up a home with a different man?”
The question was personal, but Susan took it in stride. Honesty was her policy. Kelli appreciated this so much about her.
“Yes. With Richard, I chose everything with the idea that we had to represent ourselves as confident, intelligent attorneys. Nothing could be chosen for the artistry of it; it had to be designer or state-of-the-art. If I didn’t receive at least four compliments on any given dinner occasion, I deemed myself a failure and bought something new. It was intense, to say the least.” Susan spread her hands out toward the living room and the grand stone fireplace, which Scott and Kellan had built themselves. “But this place represents my soul. I feel Scott’s love for me in every room. And I purchased the furnishings and the art with our love in mind. Don’t get me wrong; I loved my home in Newark, but this place? It seems connected to me in ways I couldn’t have dreamed of before. I’m so grateful.”
Chapter Nine
“I just eat up this story about the hotel.” Lola hovered near Kelli with her wine glass lifted, her voice low and mischievous. “All that romance. All that horror. I mean, I remember stories about it when we were growing up, that it was haunted. I always begged Susan to drive Christine and me over there when she got her driver’s license, but she wouldn’t.”
“What wouldn’t I do?” Susan called as she whipped past before she popped a cookie in her mouth. It was one of Christine’s specialties— a chocolate macadamia gooey masterpiece.
“You would never have any fun,” Lola hollered.
“Fun? Aunt Susan? She’s never heard of it,” Audrey piped up from the doorway. Max had begun to whimper, and she again propped him in the little wrap around her chest and bobbed him lightly so that her knees popped out and back in.
“Oh, you. I’ve had my share. Maybe too much,” Susan said after she swallowed her cookie bite.
“Your idea of fun is chasing after a good case,” Christine pointed out as she rubbed her pregnant belly. “One time, I asked you what kind of hobbies you wanted to take up when you had more time after your divorce and you said, maybe volunteer more for people in need. You put Mother Theresa to shame.”
“Anyway, Tommy and I went out to the property last week,” Lola continued as she returned her gaze to Kelli. “And I took some really spectacular shots of the place. It was on that foggy day before it kicked up a rain.”
“Oh! Show me.”
Lola pulled out her phone and searched through her online folders until she found her rather professional-looking photography. As she flipped through, she explained that she’d had to get to some level with her photography skills, as she often didn’t have a photographer on hand as a journalist.
“It’s better if you can do both if you need to,” she explained. Her eyes shot toward Audrey, who continued to bob Max near the wall.
“I’m listening, dear mother,” Audrey teased.
“That’s right. You’re headed back to school this fall to study journalism, aren’t you?” Kelli asked then, wording it as delicately as she could. She wasn’t entirely sure how a young woman could possibly leave her baby behind. Probably, the event would crack her heart in two. Still, this had been the arrangement since the beginning, with Christine and her fiancé, Zach, taking over the responsibility.
“That’s the plan,” Audrey recited, her voice heavy with doubt.
“Anyway. These photos, along with the story you told, got me thinking,” Lola said. “I would love to write a piece about it. Dig into the grittier details about the hurricane and interview people on the island who might still be around. I mean, 1943 was a long time ago, but it’s not like it’s so ancient of history, you know? I’m sure there are many residents on the island that hold some kind of connection.”
This had never occurred to Kelli. She gave a slight shrug and then added, “I actually have a potential buyer, if you can believe it.”
“Oh gosh. Do you think the buyer will uphold the artistic heritage of the place?” Lola asked as a wrinkle formed between her brows.
The image of Xander Van Tress on the top of that small stone staircase, peering into the darkness of the dilapidated ballroom, sprung to Kelli’s mind. She nodded slowly. “I do, actually. And Mom and I might have discovered the old blueprints in the attic. I have an antiquarian looking over them now. I don’t think it’ll be too hard to convince Xan— I mean, Mr. Van Tress, to take stock in them. Maybe he could merge the new with the old.”
Lola nodded with excitement. “This should all go in the article. Maybe I could pick your brain about this sometime later when we aren’t all fuzzy with wine. What do you say?”
Kelli’s heart lightened. Things seemed to be in transition. People were interested in what she did; people genuinely cared about her, even in the wake of the horror of her divorce. Her opinion of herself had been below ground level. Slowly, it was rising to back to a normal status.
“I would love that.”
THE ARTICLE ABOUT THE Aquinnah Cliffside Overlook Hotel and its potential purchase was published in an online magazine based in Boston later that week. Kelli was surprised at the swift turn-around time, but Lola explained that she wanted the thing up and running before the hotel was actually sold.
“Maybe this will make your buyer have a bit more competition and raise his price,” she pointed out over the phone.
Kelli tore through the article again, genuinely impressed with Lola’s way with words. She discussed the dramatic history of the old place, the way it had transformed the island during the years directly after the whaling boom, and how, with the hurricane of 1943, the landscape of the island and where the tourists had flocked and celebrated in the summertime months had shifted. Lola had even tracked down an old man named Dexter Collington, who’d worked alongside his father at the Aquinnah Cliffside Overlook Hotel during his youth, prior to the destruction of the place.
“It was just about the most magical place I’d ever seen,” Dexter stated in the article. “My father would wake me up an hour before the crack of dawn so we could race over to the cliffs and get started on a hard day’s work. I was there when Johnson was there, and boy, was he a rough owner. He wanted everything spick and span at all times. My father feared him and respected him, as did I. Of course, we talk about Johnson now because he disappeared on a sailboat a few years later— one of the great tragedies of my life, as I respected him so greatly. I spent years fearing the sea as a result. As a Vineyard resident, you always find new reasons to fear the sea, I suppose.”
The article also mentioned Kelli and her difficulty in selling it. Lola quoted Kelli as saying, “People don’t see what I see when I bring them out there. They see a shell. They don’t see what that shell represents— the colossal history beneath and what it can become once again.”
Lola had also quoted Xander Van Tress, who spoke excitedly about the potential sale.
“I’ve never seen anything like it in my life. I want to sink my teeth into it and taste the past and the present and the future of the old place. Martha’s Vineyard. Does it get any better than that?”
This was a perfect quote. Kelli’s heart jumped into her throat. A crush— was that what she had? She remembered when she had first crushed on Mike. In her eyes, he could do no wrong. Hormones were a tricky thing to fight. The
y had no rhyme nor reason.
Kelli leaned back in her office chair and tapped her nails across the hardwood of the desk. The previous afternoon, Lexi had convinced her to get her nails done in preparation for her date with Xander. According to his text messages, he planned to pick her up at that very office in the next hour. He planned to bring her to a wine bar. What would she be like, feeling so tipsy and comfortable due to the wine with a guy she so, so wanted to kiss? Would she mess up in some way? What would she even talk about? She prayed now, to God above, that she wouldn’t blather on about something boring, like the weather or what she liked to cook. What was something interesting she could talk about?
She lifted her fingers to the keyboard of her computer and typed:
INTERESTING THINGS TO BRING UP ON DATES
Oh, God. She’d really done it, now. She was rusty and uncreative. Shame washed over her as she deleted the words and scrunched her nose. Before she had a chance to consider this, even more, there was a knock at the door.
“Come in!”
Brittany opened the door and grimaced. “There’s a call for you.”
Kelli knew it. It was Xander, wasn’t it? Calling to cancel.
“It’s Mike,” Brittany said instead.
“Gosh. Really. What does he want?”
Men always sensed when you had moved on from them. It was their animal instincts. They had it, even from miles and miles away.
“He wouldn’t say. You know how he is,” Brittany informed her.
“Right.” Kelli heaved a sigh and nodded. “I’ll take it.”
Brittany clicked the door closed and left Kelli to face the music of her phone. She took a deep breath and answered.
“Mike.”
“Kelli. There she is. The woman of the hour.”
Kelli’s heart dropped into her belly. Mike could be charming when he wanted to be. She knew that better than anyone. Some days, they’d spent hours arguing, only for him to turn on his joking, clown face for their children, who had adored him at the time and not known the sinister backdrop of their parents’ relationship.
“What do you want, Mike?”
“I want to talk about this little article I just read over,” Mike stated. “About the hotel.”
Mike had been involved in the dealings of the hotel before his departure. Like Kelli and her parents, he had also struggled in selling the thing too.
“What about it?”
“Well, you know I never told you this, Kelli, but I always had a hunch about that old place.”
“And what hunch is that?” She didn’t have time for these games. Xander would be arriving soon, and she wanted to have time to do her makeup, make a mistake, wash it off, then do it again, as she always did.
“I don’t actually think that place was ever legally your parents to sell,” he shot then.
Kelli’s heart skipped a beat at his words. “What do you mean?”
“Well, I never was able to find any proof. There is no deed. No paperwork. Nothing.”
Kelli stuttered. “That’s impossible. My parents always owned that property.” Ever since she could remember, the issue of the property on the cliffside had been a topic of conversation. Her parents knew that they could make a killing on it yet never had found an interested buyer, especially since the property was located so far west and away from the rest of the action on the island.
Mike balked. “Yeah, you never did question your parents. That was my job, and you always resisted it because you always thought they were perfect.”
“That’s ridiculous. I know my parents aren’t perfect. You’ve seen all our fights over the years.”
Mike scoffed. It was impossible to convince him away from his own firmly held beliefs. Kelli knew better than to try to change his thoughts.
“In any case, there is no proof, as far as I can tell, that you should be able to sell that place. I don’t know what will happen to you if you do sell it and it winds up belonging to someone else. I do know that I felt it was on my shoulders to warn you.”
Kelli’s nostrils flared. “Don’t call here again, Mike. You left, and we’re better off with you out of the picture. Do you understand me?” She then slammed the phone onto the receiver and let out a low growl.
Brittany reappeared in the doorway of her office. Her face was etched with concern. Often, when Brittany saw other people upset, she always turned into Mother Hubbard. She called herself “the ultimate empath, almost to my detriment.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yes. I’ll be fine after some deep breaths.”
“Do you want me to go to Rhode Island and commit a crime?” Brittany asked, flashing her a mischievous grin.
Kelli laughed in spite of everything. “I don’t think so, but I’ll keep you posted if anything changes.”
“Please do.”
The moment the door clipped shut, Kelli sprung into action. The listing of the hotel was found in nearly every file her parents had passed over to her; it was on their website; it was in the paperwork they, themselves, had drawn up. But when she searched through the old deeds and older paperwork, she found nothing linked back to the old hotel.
Why did her parents think they had this to sell? Did the hotel possibly belong to someone who hadn’t wanted to sell it in the first place? And why wasn’t there any record of that person anywhere?
What was going on?
Kelli could feel her heart racing in her chest. If she sold a property that wasn’t actually hers to sell, there would be serious consequences. Suppose that article had led someone to catch onto her “scheme”?
Suddenly, her phone buzzed with a text.
XANDER VAN TRESS: On my way! Excited to see you again.
“Shoot,” she muttered as she flung herself toward the bathroom. She didn’t have time to go over this, but she had to pretend over the next few hours that she knew nothing about this. If this was nothing, she couldn’t let Mike ruin it. Not again.
Chapter Ten
A boutique hotel called The Hesson House had recently opened its doors, with a beautiful wine bar that dripped from the immaculate yard out toward the glittering sands that stretched along the Nantucket Sound. It was here that Xander took her, here where he opened the car door of his convertible for her and helped her step delicately onto the ground below. Chivalry was still alive. His blue eyes echoed their excitement, even as he seemed still too hesitant to smile. Was it possible that Xander Van Tress was nervous at all? Probably in the city, he took women out all the time. She was just a blip on his timeline.
“What a beautiful place,” Kelli breathed as she lifted her chin toward The Hesson House. “I can’t believe I’ve never been over here.”
“I spoke with the owner, Olivia Hesson,” Xander continued. “I was fascinated with the fact that she built this place up to its original state— doing what I want to do so much with the Aquinnah Cliffside Overlook Hotel. I want to merge the old world with the new, to bring about excitement for previous design and architecture in a new generation of tourists. She led me through the ornate dining rooms and the beautiful upstairs suites and explained the elaborate work she and her boyfriend conducted over the previous months. Apparently, her great aunt left her the mansion. The pressure of it nearly destroyed her. Ah! Look. Here she is now.”
Olivia Hesson stepped down from the back porch and lifted a hand to shake Xander’s. Kelli felt a funny sensation, a shiver snaking up the back of her spine. Was this jealousy? She wanted to laugh at herself. Xander had only just mentioned that Olivia had built up the property with her boyfriend. Was this proof that she liked him way more than even she could comprehend? She blushed and inwardly cursed her teenage-like mind.
“I’m so glad you came by, Xander,” Olivia said brightly. “And Kelli Montgomery, right? I don’t think you remember, but we were introduced many, many years ago. I believe our ex-husbands were chummy for a while.”
“Ah. I see.” Kelli felt the words like a punch to the stomach.
&n
bsp; “Long ago days,” Olivia affirmed with the wave of her hand. “I’ll send one of the best bottles of wine over to your table. It’s on the house.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Kelli offered.
“Please, for old time’s sake. Or— if not for the old times, then for the new times, as I guess they show us just how rough the old times really got.”
Olivia’s eyes were stern for a moment, proof, yet again, that many people on the island knew just what a waste of a human life Mike truly was.
But in a moment, the strangeness was over, and Xander placed the palm of his hand upon Kelli’s back and guided her toward the table that Olivia had set aside for them. In a flash, the expensive bottle of Primitivo was sent to their table and their glasses were filled. The sun had begun its beautiful descent toward the west and started to cast orange light upon everything. It was endlessly nostalgic, an ever-present reminder of summertime evenings Kelli could never return to. She and Xander locked eyes for a moment; perhaps this was an acknowledgment of the strangeness of first date operations. And then, they clinked glasses and took a sip.
“Wow. That is really something,” Xander breathed.
Kelli knew very little about wine. She wished she would have picked Lola or Christine’s brain about it prior to coming with a very rich man to a wine bar. Would that mistake cost her everything?
No, she reminded herself. What would cost her everything was the fact that the legalities of selling that Aquinnah Cliffside Overlook Hotel were suddenly iffy at best. The worst of it all was that Mike knew. He now dangled this fact above her neck; he held the ax, and she was the chicken.
“Ex-husband. That sounds complicated,” Xander leaned back in his chair as he placed the napkin across his lap.
“At forty-six, everything’s a bit complicated at times, I suppose,” Kelli told him. “It’s crazy for me to even say that’s my age.”
Xander chuckled. “I’m turning fifty this year. Dreading it.”
“Anything big planned?”
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