Once and Again (22 page)

“I do. You’ve been out of our lives for far too long, Mom. And I’ve been trying to do everything myself. It’s not healthy. And you being apart from us isn’t healthy, either.”

Mary sighed. “I know. I’ve just been stuck, Jane. So stuck without your father.”

“So get unstuck with us.”

“If you really want me here, I’ll sell the house. And I have some money put aside, too. You won’t have to support me. I can even help chip in with our living expenses.”

“Thank you,” Jane said, meaning it. “I will probably need to take you up on that offer, but let’s talk about that later. For now, just let’s be happy with the decision that you’re going to be with us for a while.”

“All right.” Her mother sat down at the kitchen table, her shoulders sloping into a kind of slump Jane had never seen from her before. Mary’s admissions had clearly taken a lot out of her. “Jane—everything’s going to be okay, isn’t it?”

“I know it is, Mom,” Jane said with certainty. Forget Dan and the money and the job and Andy’s school and everything else going on in her life right now. She’d get through this, the same as she had every other setback in her life, because she was a fighter, and she’d keep on fighting—for Andy, for herself, and now, for her mom. “I know it is.”

News of the building’s sale traveled fast. Mountain Laurel Cakes shared the building with Ephemera and Petal, a high-end clothing store that sold $300 women’s jeans and equally expensive tops. The owner of that store had already negotiated to move into a storefront two buildings down, which happened to have a vacancy that would fit the shop’s specifications.

Unfortunately, Lucy Thurlow was having less luck finding a place for Ephemera, and she came to the bakery almost every day to talk with Evelyn about future plans.

“Garrison says I should forget about a storefront,” Lucy said. “Go exclusively online. But the whole reason I started this business was to have something to do and somewhere to go when Garrison retired. All he does now is tinker on his inventions.” Lucy put her mug of tea down on the counter and shook her head. “I love him. I really do. But if I have to sit at home and do the
Internet thing,
”—she waved her hand around—“while he pounds away in that workshop of his, I’m going to go out of my mind.”

“Maybe while you’re looking for space you could put your products online. It’d be smart to do anyway,” Evelyn said. “If I could,
I’d
do it, but no one wants to eat a virtual cake.”

Lucy sighed. “I know. I should, and maybe I’ll take the time while I’m in flux to deal with it, but I still want a storefront. Call me old-fashioned, but there’s something romantic about actually touching the paper you’re going to use, feeling it between your fingers—you know what I mean?”

“I know, Lucy, I know,” Evelyn sighed, “but times are changing. People want different things now. They want speed and convenience. I heard,” she said, lowering her voice, “that the new owner may turn this building into a giant yogurt shop.”

“No!” gasped Lucy.

“Oh, yes,” Evelyn said, nodding. “One of those do-it-yourself joints with the linoleum floors and the neon lights.” She shrugged. “But who really knows? I just hear rumors.”

Jane finished piping the last frosting rose on a lemon cake and shook her head. “Evelyn, you heard that from Steph, who heard it from a Petal employee.”

“So?”

“So that employee is a teenager! She doesn’t know anything!”

Lucy sighed. “It doesn’t matter what it turns into. All that matters is that we’re out. I got a realtor who’s showing me places. I’m going to see one this afternoon, actually.” She took a sip of tea. “What are you going to do?” she asked Evelyn. “Have you started making plans?”

“No, and I don’t yet know what we’re going to do. Kitchens are a tricky thing. We can’t just open up shop somewhere else—unless what we need already exists. Isn’t that right, Jane?”

Jane nodded and turned away. Last week on a job with Susumo, she’d mentioned the issues surrounding Mountain Laurel Cakes. Shockingly, he confided to her that he’d wanted a full-time assistant for a while, and offered her the job when the bakery closed. She’d already spoken with Evelyn about transitioning to do more work at Briarwood, and Evelyn had given her blessing, but she still felt guilty about abandoning the bakery. Unfortunately, though, she and Andy needed to eat. She knew Evelyn understood, but it didn’t make things easier.

“And what are you going to do about your apartment, Jane?” Lucy inquired.

“Honestly? I have no idea,” Jane confessed. “I want to stay in the school district, but I can’t afford anything else in Eastbridge on my salary. Did I tell you my mom’s going to stay with us for a while?”

“So you need a three-bedroom place, hmm?” Lucy looked thoughtful.

“You know of someplace?”

“I
have
someplace. There’s a guest cottage on our property. It hasn’t been used in years and needs some work, but it’s in fair shape. I could get Garrison to clean it up for you. He’d love another project.”

“You’d really do that for us?”

“Sure,” Lucy said. “We live on five acres in the middle of the woods. It’d be nice to have some company. Besides, I suspect rent for any new place I take will be higher than what I’m paying now. I was locked into my lease for Ephemera years ago. Things are just so much more expensive these days, and it’d be nice to have some supplemental income coming in.”

“How much would you want for your cottage?”

“Maybe a thousand a month?”

Jane stared at her wide-eyed.

“Why? Is that too much? I can try to—”

“I’ll take it!” Jane said, faster than lightning.

Lucy looked bemused. “You haven’t even seen it yet.”

“I don’t care what it looks like.”

“She pays double that for rent now,” Evelyn said.

“Shh—” Jane said, signaling for Evelyn to shut her mouth.

“Look, it doesn’t matter what you’re paying for your current place, Jane. We’re not getting
anything
for the cottage now. It’s just sitting there, so we may as well put it to good use and help you out, besides.” Lucy put her mug down and glanced at her watch. “I have to go check out a potential place for Ephemera in an hour. Why don’t I talk to Garrison when I get home? And if he agrees, you could come by after you get off work tonight to take a look.”

“It’d have to be around seven, after we eat dinner and Andy does his homework. Would that be all right?”

“Yes, of course. I have your cellphone number. I’ll just text you the address. Sound good?”

“Yes,” Jane said, nodding. If the cottage worked out, which she hoped—she
knew
—it would, they’d have their own place, and it would be cheap enough that Mary wouldn’t have to dip too deeply into her savings to contribute. They’d have plenty of room and be near friends. And best of all, not only was the cottage in a safe, quiet part of town, but she wouldn’t have to move Andy out of Eastbridge Elementary. Oh, it was more than good.

It was perfect.

For Carolyn, much of the next week went surprisingly smoothly. Once Jake sent her a list of the proposed renovations, Carolyn did one better than merely suggesting to her own clients that the changes would transform Briarwood—she enlisted the rest of the staff to help, too. Everyone she talked to seemed receptive to the plan to get more members onboard with the renovations. No surprise, given that happy members meant more business at the club, and more business meant they would all keep their jobs. After a brief coaching session where Carolyn passed along the information Jake provided, the staff was off and running.

Orwell Tippett told anyone who’d listen how he couldn’t wait for the tennis courts to be repaved and the pool to be expanded. Summer talked up how having renovated spa facilities and a brand-new exercise studio would mean more offerings. Lincoln Rollins, the new golf pro, worked his clients like a master salesman as he touted the benefits of having a course redone by the famous Walter Williams. Eric mostly grumbled—a brand-new stove and another double oven didn’t impress him—but he rarely came out of his kitchen, anyway.

Carolyn had kept subtly pressing her own clients, too. Martha Mayhew was planning a luncheon. So was Mimi Chaffee. At the moment, she was figuring out how to work on Priscilla Reynolds, with whom she had a meeting scheduled later this afternoon.

She’d never been so busy in her life. Her regular events took up the same amount of time they always did, but on top of that she had Jake’s welcome party planning to finalize, staff to corral, and clients to sway. Yet she was enjoying herself. Her work mattered.
She
mattered. For the first time in months, her family situation faded into the background. Dad was still gone, at least for the time being, but she was so busy, she actually missed him less.

Bex had checked in with her again. Worring was still missing, but at least Bex had a potential lead on a money trail. She’d had to get a court order to compel Yowls to hand over the Rivington files—at least the ones that pertained to her affairs. Apparently, simply asking for them wasn’t enough, but Bex finally got them, and she was digging through old financial records to see what else she could uncover about the Rivington finances, even before Worring came into the picture, the hope being that there were additional assets or investments unconnected to the scandal that might have survived.

And Carolyn and Jake had reached a kind of understanding. He’d stop in her office at least once a day to get her input on how she thought things were going with the staff. She welcomed that time—a few minutes alone with Jake, just talking. In private, things couldn’t get any hotter. In public, they played it cool. Any whiff of impropriety might undermine Jake’s renovation campaign.

As if on cue, there was a rap at the door. She looked up to find Jake leaning against the door frame in that familiar way of his.

“Hey,” he said, his eyes warming. She could grow used to this.

“Hello. Please come in.”

Jake entered and shut the door behind him. She gave him a look and he just laughed. “As much as I want to, even I have my limits.”

“Limits, hmm?” she said with a smile as she rose.

“I’m not taking chances in the middle of the day with Richard right down the hall ready to kick my ass if I even look at you in the wrong way.” She cocked her head, but he held up his hand. “No, don’t give me that. He treats you like his daughter.”

“He does, doesn’t he?” she said with a little shrug. “I don’t mind it.” And she didn’t. It was nice to be cared for like that, especially given that her own dad had been MIA for weeks at this point. “How are the preparations for the Board meeting going?”

“Not bad. We’re done with the planning. Now we just need to make sure that the delivery is sound.”

“It will be,” Carolyn said. “Just so you know, I’ve had more positive responses from several clients. It’s just as I promised—a little suggestion goes a long way. And the more members we have on our side, the greater pressure the Board will feel to follow suit.”

Jake shook his head. “If you’d told me when I bought this place a month and a half ago that I’d be bending over backward to make sure the Board was happy with the renovations we need to make this place viable—renovations a majority had already approved on paper—I would have said you were crazy. Now, I just see it as the additional cost of doing business.”

“You’re right to do this,” Carolyn said, reaching for his hand. His larger one engulfed hers. “And your plan
will
work. Above all, the Board members simply don’t want to be seen as obstacles or to feel as if they’re already obsolete. Your presentation ensures their inclusion.” She squeezed. “We’ve done everything we can from our end. You know that.”

“I do know that,” he said, squeezing back. “Thank you. Your help has been invaluable.”

“You’re welcome,” she said. “Honestly, it was my pleasure.”

Jake pulled away. “I have half an hour before I’m due to meet up with Marc and Press before our final run-through. Let me take you to lunch.”

She glanced down at her watch. “Oh, I would love that, but I actually have a client meeting in fifteen minutes.”

“Busy.”

Carolyn nodded. “I told you I had this,” she said, echoing her words from that first, awful conversation they had. Things had turned out so differently than she thought they would. “You knew I’d work hard for you.”

“I didn’t, but I should have. Anyway, you’re not really doing this for me, are you?”

“No,” she admitted.

His gaze swept over her face, lingering on her mouth. “I see that now,” he murmured. “I wish I’d seen it earlier.”

“You’re going to be amazing later,” she said. “Just remember they are not the enemy. And they can be powerful allies if you take the right tone.”

“I hear you,” Jake said, nodding.

“Now go grab some lunch before your meeting. On Wednesdays, Eric makes a great prime rib sandwich.”

“Meat,” Jake grunted.

“Sounds good, doesn’t it?” Carolyn said with a smile.

“Yeah,” he said, stepping forward and capturing her face in his hands. “Other things do, too.” Carolyn honestly thought he was going to kiss her right there, but one moment turned to two, then three. Finally, he merely brushed his lips gently on her forehead, and then stepped away. “I’ll stop by later to let you know how it went.”

“Please do,” she said.

He gave a nod, then left.

When he’d disappeared, she let out a sigh, then went to gather up her papers for her next meeting. Her latest development with Jake was promising, despite their seriously rocky start. Or should she say re-start? They’d gone about it all backward—love, hate, sex, and now, something that seemed like friendship…and maybe something more.

She liked that most of all.

After the Board meeting, Jake went back to his office with Press and Marc. Carefully, he shut the door. Then, with great satisfaction, he clenched his fist and gave a tight pump. “Yes!”

“We did it!” Press said, smacking him on the back and grinning. “And you were afraid it wouldn’t happen.”

“I can’t believe they barely argued with us,” Marcus said. “I’d have thought Chelmsford, especially, would have stood on ceremony. And while he gave us some pushback, he wasn’t nearly as vitriolic as he could have been. None of them were.”

“It was our superior presentation,” Press said.

“I think it was the fact that Jake finally decided to dress like a grown-up,” Marcus said, indicating the suit Jake had donned specifically for the occasion.

Jake shook his head. “As much as I’d like to think it was both of those things, I honestly think it was neither.”

“What was it, then?”

“Not what,” Jake said. “Who. I want to give Carolyn Rivington a hell of a lot of credit for organizing the staff to get behind our proposal. I think things went a lot smoother because of her and her work.”

“Oh, come on,” Marcus said. “It wasn’t all her. It was a combination of many factors.”

Press paused. “Come to think of it, several of the Board members
did
cite the desires of the membership as being critical to their voting in favor of the proposed renovations.”

“It was a complete about-face, especially for Chelmsford,” Jake said. “You remember how I told you he argued that Williams’s renovation was going to annoy the older members of the club? Well, today, he actually acknowledged the benefit of the renovation as something for the oldest members to look forward to.”

“You’re right,” Marcus acknowledged. “I’d forgotten about that.”

“I hadn’t,” Press said. “And you remember what Gerry Chaffee said—that they more than appreciated our willingness to include them as partners. He used that word—
partners.
”

Jake nodded. “I heard that over and over again during the discussion. We’re not steamrolling them. We’re guiding them to improvements. Big difference, and one that I couldn’t see for a long time.”

“So what now?” Marcus asked. “We need to plan our next steps to get the renovation up and running. We have the boathouse taken care of and your brother onboard for the ballroom and the woodwork of the main building, but thanks to the delays, we have no one else lined up, and if we want to get this work started, we have to get a game plan together.”

“We can plan tomorrow,” Press said. “Tonight we celebrate our victory!”

Marcus frowned. “If we want to make it an early day, we should—”

“Oh, shut up, Marc,” Press said. “Live a little, for once in your life. One night out isn’t going to kill you.”

“Fine. Let’s go to that tavern.”

“The place we went to with Joe? Sure. Maybe I can see if he wants to join us?”

“I liked him,” Press said abruptly.

“He’s not like me at all,” Jake mused.

“That’s why I liked him.”

Jake just laughed. Nothing could put him off his mood now. He was flying on air. This was better than winning his first big contract. Better than his first million. And he knew exactly whom he needed to share this with.

“You two go ahead, and I’ll meet you there,” Jake said. “There’s someone I need to talk to first.”

“Tell her thanks,” Press said knowingly, and Jake merely nodded.

It didn’t take long to get to Carolyn’s office. She was inside, sitting at her desk, a cardigan around her shoulders. As soon as she saw him, she rose, worry and anticipation written all over her face. He’d been insane to ever think she was cold. Carolyn Rivington was filled with passion. It emanated from her in waves.

“Tell me,” she demanded.

Not caring who saw them, he stepped into the room, swept her up in his arms, and found her mouth with his own. She yielded immediately, sinking into his body with a warmth and sweetness that was intoxicating.

When they both came up for air, he gave her a huge grin. “Approved, lock, stock, and barrel.”

“Oh, Jake, I am so happy,” she said, a hand over her heart. “And relieved. I can’t tell you how worried everyone was about keeping their jobs.”

“They won’t just keep them.” He stepped away from her, mindful of prying eyes that might be passing by—especially Richard’s. “Once the building renovations begin, they’re all getting raises as incentive to stay on while the place is being redone. I need established professionals to make this work.”

She shook her head. “Don’t speak too soon. We still have the welcome party later this week.”

“It’s going to go great, now that I’ll be able to tell everyone about the renovations. Hopefully we’ll at least have a tentative start date by then.”

“I just want it to be perfect,” she said.

“It will be.”

“I appreciate your faith in me.”

“Just like I appreciated yours. We did it, Carolyn. Thanks to you. I was so blind I couldn’t see what was right before my eyes—respect and compromise.” He wasn’t just talking about the Board meeting anymore. “Look, I’m grabbing a beer with Marc and Press, but I want to see you later.”

“Why don’t you stop by my place,” she said slowly. “That is, if you’d like to.”

“Yeah,” he said, acutely aware that this was the first time he’d ever been invited to Carolyn’s place. “I’ll text you when I’m done.”

“I’ll see you later, then,” she said.

He nodded. “Later. For a celebration of our own.”

Her smile was the only response he needed.

Carolyn was lying in bed, eyes closed, when there was a knock on her front door. In that half-asleep, half-awake state, she thought it must be her dad, home at last, until she realized it was probably Jake. She sat up and glanced at her clock. A quarter after eleven. And then at her cellphone, plugged into its charger and resting on her night table. One missed text from a half hour ago.

She pulled on a silk robe over her matching tank and tap pants and padded down the stairs in bare feet to the front door. Just to be safe, she peeked through the peephole.

She opened the door, and there he stood, still in his suit, inexplicably looking harder and hotter than she’d ever seen him. All that power, wrapped up in the veneer of civility. She knew what lay underneath—determination, drive, and a raw hunger that had made him into the man he now was.

“It’s late,” she said, her voice a little thick. “I’m sorry I didn’t get your text. I think I fell asleep. You want to come in?”

“Hell yes, I want to come in,” he said, his eyes darkening. In a moment, he was inside, holding her at arm’s length while he drank her in. “Gotta tell you how much I love your nightclothes,” he said. “Been dreaming of you like this ever since that day I fixed your dock and you came down to the beach dressed in these skimpy, silky things. You looked damned good.”

His words went straight to her core, warming her from the inside out. She fingered his lapel. “I might say the same of you,” she said, her voice breathless. “I didn’t get the chance to tell you before how nice you looked.”

“Maybe I should wear suits more often,” he said.

“You should,” she agreed, “because—” She ended on a gasp as he licked her neck, hitting a sweet spot that made her shudder. She went from zero to sixty that fast, breasts swelling, nipples hardening, sex dampening.