“Off to save some lives, Doc?” Jared asked his friend, who was dressed in khakis and a blue dress shirt—or what Daisy called his doctor uniform.
“You know it,” David said, his face lifting into the engaging grin that had become familiar to Jared in the last few weeks.
“Hey, so why don’t you and Daisy come for a cookout tonight? You can take a swim and have a steak. If you want to.”
David eyed him skeptically. “Who’s cooking?”
“I am,” Jared said indignantly. “I’m not totally useless.”
Laughing, David said, “No comment. Daisy will want to know what we can bring.”
“You don’t have to bring anything.”
“That won’t fly with her. How about a salad?”
“Sure.” Jared had come to know Daisy well in the last few weeks and recognized defeat when he saw it. “Sounds good.”
“Great. What time?”
“Six thirty?” That sounded like a good time for a cookout, didn’t it?
“We’ll be here.”
“If there’s anyone else you want to bring, feel free.”
“Maybe I’ll ask Victoria at the clinic. She’s fun.”
“Not a fix-up, right?”
David tossed his head back and laughed. “Hardly. She’s hot and heavy with an Irishman.”
“Tell her to bring him.”
“I’ll do that.” David gave him a perusing look. “You seem better.”
“I think it’s more that I’m sick of feeling like shit. That gets old after a while.”
“Yes, it does.”
David had shared what he’d gone through after he’d screwed up his relationship with his fiancée and then had to sit on the sidelines and watch while she married someone else.
“Does it ever stop hurting like hell?” Jared asked.
“Eventually.”
Hands on his hips, Jared nodded. “Good to know. See you tonight?”
“We’ll be there. Thanks for the invite.”
“Thanks for everything. You and Daisy have been… You’ve been great. Really great.”
“I’m glad to finally get to know the guy I’ve been sending my rent checks to all this time,” David said with a smile as he headed for his car with a wave from Jared.
Clinging to the upbeat attitude he’d woken with, Jared went to the outdoor shower to rinse off the sweat and sand. He’d owned the house for three years but hadn’t discovered the outdoor shower until he’d arrived earlier in the summer.
“I need to remember how to enjoy life,” he muttered as he stood under the cool water and looked up at the bright sunshine. Other than the incredible time he’d spent with Lizzie, he’d given everything he had to his work for so long he’d forgotten the simple pleasure of an early morning run on the beach. It was quite possible that he’d never get over losing Lizzie, but there was no sense in letting what remained of his life be ruined by her rejection.
He’d recently reconnected with Jenny Wilks, a woman he’d known at UPenn’s Wharton School where he’d studied for his MBA. Jenny had lost her fiancé, Toby, who Jared had also known at Penn, in the 9/11 attacks on New York City. The reminder of Toby’s untimely death made Jared feel guilty for spending glorious summer days grieving for a woman who clearly didn’t love him as much as he’d loved her.
Jared sat on a lounge chair by the pool and let the warm sun dry him as he plotted his day. First stop, grocery store. Second stop, liquor store. When was the last time he’d been anywhere near a grocery or liquor store? He couldn’t recall. In the city, he had a household staff who took care of such things for him. Here on the island, his cleaning lady started bringing groceries with her when she realized he wasn’t eating much of anything as he nursed his broken heart.
“Enough with being a pathetic loser.” He got up to go get dressed and head out on his errands. He had a party to get ready for.
*
On the way into town, Jared’s attention was drawn to an Open House sign outside the Chesterfield Estate, which he’d read about in the
Gansett Gazette
. The twenty-acre parcel had been for sale for quite some time, and he had to admit he was curious, especially after hearing Alex and Jenny talk about it.
Since he had all day before his guests were due to arrive, he decided to indulge the curiosity and pulled down the long driveway that led to the enormous stone house on the Atlantic coast.
Jared had seen some incredible houses in his time, had been a guest at some of the most exceptional seaside homes in the Hamptons, but he’d never seen anything quite like this one. A blonde woman dressed in a sharp black suit worked the door. Jared noticed she took a quick look at him, dressed in faded cargo shorts and an old polo shirt, and dismissed him on first glance.
Part of him wanted to tell her he could buy the estate a thousand times over if he so desired, but he resisted the urge to brag and took the brochure that she handed to him.
“Make yourself at home,” she said with a tight, disinterested smile.
“Thank you.” Jared had the house to himself as he wandered through spacious, airy rooms. In the brochure, he noted that Harold Chesterfield, an oilman, had built the summer house in 1932 as a surprise for his bride, Esther, who had died a couple of years ago. A black-and-white photo of the happy couple tugged at Jared’s broken heart.
When he thought about all the things he could’ve given his beloved Lizzie… Except she’d never wanted such things from him. Her discomfort with his affluence and fondness for the finer things in life had been the only source of discontent in what had been an otherwise blissful relationship. He’d wanted to give her everything, to shower her in diamonds and whisk her away to places she’d only dreamed of visiting.
Over and over again, however, she’d told him she didn’t want those things. She wanted him but had no interest in his extravagant lifestyle. The one comment that had permeated the fog after the proposal-gone-wrong had haunted him ever since:
“I can’t live like you do. I just can’t.”
“Why are you thinking about her again?” Jared muttered to himself. He’d be a raving lunatic by the time he finally emerged from his self-imposed exile. That was what she’d reduced him to.
As he walked through one incredible room after another, an idea occurred to him and solidified when he reached the grand staircase in the center of the magnificent house.
“Are you finding everything all right?” the frosty blonde asked when she found him in the drawing room, staring at the brochure like he gave a damn about the Chesterfields and their “storybook” romance.
“What’s the asking price?” It was the one thing he couldn’t find anywhere in the literature.
“It’s listed at fifteen nine.”
Jared wondered how Jenny and Alex would feel about getting married here. They’d lamented that nothing was available on short notice for a wedding this summer. Ironic, right, to be thinking about another couple’s wedding when he’d expected to be planning his own.
You’re not thinking about that
…
“Would they take fourteen five?”
The blonde’s mouth fell open in shock and then closed just as quickly when she recovered her composure. “And you are?”
“Jared James.”
“Oh! Mr. James! I didn’t recognize you! I’m so sorry. I’m Doro Chase, representing the Chesterfields’ heirs.”
Jared shook her hand but only because she’d thrust it practically into his chest in her excitement.
“I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you!”
“Anyway, about the offer… Are your clients willing to negotiate?”
“I’m sure they’d be willing to entertain your offer. I’d be happy to discuss it with them if you’re serious.”
Jared took in the view of the ocean, the sweeping stairway, the incredible woodwork, the huge rooms, the hardwood floors. The place called to the businessman in him and filled him with the kind of enthusiasm he hadn’t felt in weeks. “I’m serious.”
Chapter 2
This is a fool’s errand
, Elisabeth Sutter decided as the wind whipped through her hair as she stood at the bow of the ferry and watched Gansett Island come into view. After all, nothing had changed since she’d last seen Jared. He was still richer than God, and she still had no desire to be married to that kind of money.
Sure, money made everything easier, but sometimes it made things
too
easy and far too crazy for her liking. If only she could’ve forgotten about him, the real him, the man behind the money, the man she’d fallen desperately in love with and then tried to let go of because it had seemed like the right thing to do.
How wrong she’d been. She’d known almost immediately that she’d made a terrible mistake. The look on his face when he realized she was declining his beautiful proposal… That look was now seared permanently into her memory bank, along with the pain he’d worn in the incredibly expressive eyes that had always gazed at her with unabashed love.
That she could’ve done that to him… It still made her sick to think about the pain she’d caused him, the pain she’d caused them both. If only she hadn’t been so hasty to reject him. If only she’d taken a minute to process her thoughts before reacting so negatively. If only, if only.
It had taken nearly six weeks of daily visits to his office before his personal assistant had finally buckled and told her where he was.
Elisabeth hadn’t even known about the house on Gansett Island, which more or less proved her point about why their relationship would never work long term. Sometimes she felt as though there was more about him she
didn’t
know than what she did know. And what she knew of him, she loved. That was the simple truth she’d lived with since the last time she saw him.
She loved him. After the last disastrous evening they’d spent together, she’d tried to talk herself out of loving him. Not loving him was easier, cleaner, simpler. Their lifestyles were as diametrically different as two lives could be. She was low-budget, low-key, low-maintenance. He was all cash, dash and flash.
And she loved him.
Elisabeth blew out a deep breath that was swallowed by the breeze whipping her hair into knots as the ferry closed the distance between the mainland and Gansett. By now, he probably hated her and had forgotten all the reasons why he’d once wanted to marry her.
That was why she thought of this as a fool’s errand. What good could possibly come of showing up out of the blue forty days after she’d rejected him so profoundly? What was she thinking coming here? What did she hope to achieve? None of the things that truly mattered had changed. He still had more money than God, and she was still unwilling to change who she was to suit his billionaire lifestyle.
She ran a homeless shelter, for crying out loud. How did that jibe with the life of a Wall Street tycoon who made money as effortlessly as most people breathed? From the very start she’d found their divergent paths in life to be comical—and worrisome. They’d joked about their differences as they’d gotten to know each other. But the longer they were together, the more glaring the differences had become.
He hadn’t cared about any of that. He’d told her he’d give her anything and everything she wanted if only she’d marry him and vow to love him forever. She’d begun shaking her head before he’d even finished his proposal.
Elisabeth’s eyes burned with tears that couldn’t be blamed on the wind. She feared that negative head shake would turn out to be the single greatest mistake she’d ever make in her life. Somehow, some way, she had to tell him that. He needed to know that she regretted it. She wasn’t sure she was willing to change her answer, but she couldn’t let him think she didn’t love him.
That was why she’d taken four trains every day for weeks to get to his office. His assistant, Marcy, always knew where he was. He’d told her that the first week they met. If ever she couldn’t get in touch with him, call Marcy, he’d said. Marcy had standing orders to put through Elisabeth’s calls no matter what she might be interrupting.
Elisabeth had felt honored that he wanted to hear from her so badly that he didn’t care if she interrupted his work. Marcy had been far less accommodating after the “disaster,” as Elisabeth thought of that night on the rooftop when she’d ruined everything with the shake of her head.
Marcy had made her work for it, finally relenting when Elisabeth begged her to tell her where Jared was so she could attempt to fix the awful mess she’d made of things. “If you hurt him again,” Marcy had said as she handed over the slip of paper that contained the one thing Elisabeth needed more than anything, “I’ll find you, and I’ll kill you.”
“I understand,” Elisabeth had said, knowing she deserved nothing less than death threats from Jared’s faithful employee and friend.
“I don’t think you do,” Marcy had said. “But when you go there and you see him, you’ll get it, and you’ll know I mean it.”
Marcy’s statement indicated the breakup had been as bad for him as it’d been for her—probably worse, in fact, because he didn’t know she still loved him as much as she ever had. He didn’t know that she regretted her actions that night more than she’d ever regretted anything. He didn’t know that she’d give everything she had—which wasn’t much—to go back in time to rewrite the outcome of that night.