Compromising Positions (18 page)

“What am I supposed to do now? I guess there won't be any letter of recommendation, either.”

Vivian leaned forward and lowered her voice. “I have a friend who works for a small decorative arts museum in San Francisco. She has a job for you if you want it. It pays better than the Mapother. It's actually a promotion for you. Take advantage of this change, Amelia, and I think you'll come out on top.”

Amelia looked up at her boss and forced a smile. Vivian had taken a chance on her when no one else would. She owed her for that at least. “Thank you. I'll look into San Francisco.”

“It's called the San Coronado,” Vivian said. “It's lovely. Spanish architecture, red-tiled roof. And it's right along the ocean. Couldn't be a prettier setting.”

Amelia nodded as she walked to the door. “I'll just get my things together. I won't be long.”

“Darling, take your time. It's the least we can do for you.”

Amelia walked through the offices, past her coworkers. She was numb, as if a bomb had gone off beside her. She couldn't hear; she couldn't speak. She felt angry and humiliated and so very sad. Amelia loved her job and now someone else would do it.

“Amelia! Welcome back.”

She turned to smile at Serena Phillips, the head of their communication department. “Thanks.”

“We're still getting calls about your sleep-in,” she said. “Lots of great press on that. Brilliant move.”

By the time she reached the Lexus, her eyes were burning with tears. She'd known her mother was capable of cruelty, but she never truly believed it would be directed at her.

Thankfully the trailer had been unhitched and her SUV was parked in its usual spot, the keys inside. She sat in her vehicle for a long moment, wondering what her next move should be.

Every instinct told her to drive right back to Millhaven. Sam was there. He'd offer comfort and security, a place to stay until she got her life sorted out. Her second instinct was to visit the family lawyer. The money she'd been promised in her grandfather's trust was not something her parents could just give away on a whim. Somehow, she sensed that she was being played and that all was not what it seemed.

Instead Amelia decided to go home. She'd confront her mother one last time, then cut ties with her altogether. She steered the SUV through city traffic, thinking about all the things she wanted to say.

Amelia tried to see the situation from her mother's viewpoint. Amelia was her only child. But why try to force that child into being something she wasn't? Couldn't her mother just accept her as she was instead of trying to change her?

She pulled up in front of her parents' townhome on Beacon Hill. They usually spent the week in town, then headed out to their weekend home on Cape Cod. It was morning and her mother would be going through her week's schedule, accepting luncheon invitations, making plans to play tennis with her friends, arranging shopping trips and meetings with the household staff.

The last person she'd expect to see would be Amelia. Or maybe she was waiting, hoping that she'd get a chance to savor her victory. She'd managed to destroy the last of her daughter's happiness.

Amelia still had a set of keys for the house, so she parked in the back, in her father's spot. The security system beeped as the door opened. Amelia walked through the silent house. She found Inez, their housekeeper, in the library. “Hello, Inez. I'm looking for my mother.”

“Miss Amelia. How lovely you look today.”

“Thank you. I'm looking for my mother.”

“She hasn't come down yet. Let me go up and tell her you're here. I'm sure she'll want to see you.”

She took a seat in one of her father's leather wing chairs, uncertain of what kind of reception she'd get. Certainly her mother wouldn't expect her to be happy. She clenched her hands, trying to release the tension in her body. When that didn't work, she got to her feet and began to pace.

“Hello, Amelia.”

She spun around to face her mother, who stood in the doorway to the library. “Hello, Mother.”

“What brings you here? You haven't set foot in this house in...what? A year?”

“It's a long time for parents to be estranged from their only child.”

“I'm not sorry for what I did, Amelia. I needed to make you come to your senses. I'm sure eventually you'll come to forgive me and forget this little...bump in the road. I only want what's best for you.”

“No, Mother, you want what's best for you. You don't care about how I feel. You don't care what makes me happy.”

“That's not true.”

“I loved my job. I was proud of the work I was doing.”

“You'll get over it.”

“I loved my life. I was independent. I wasn't afraid of anything. I had a future.”

“You can still be happy,” her mother said.

“Happy? Like you're happy? Your marriage is nothing more than a business arrangement. You sleep in separate bedrooms and I don't think I've seen Father kiss you since I was a kid. Your friends don't care about you, they care about your money. You don't trust anyone and you even can't bring yourself to love your only child. The years are passing you by, Mother, and look at what your life has become. Don't you want to be happy?”

“That's not always possible,” Olivia said, her expression cold. “I do my best with what I've been given—including an ungrateful daughter.”

“I'm not ungrateful, Mother. I'm just finished. You can officially kick me out of the family. You don't have to worry about me anymore. I'm relieving you of your responsibility.”

“Don't be silly. You can't walk away.”

“Watch me. Sam showed me what love is supposed to be. I was afraid I would allow myself to be controlled, like you tried to control me. But now I know how strong I am and what I truly want. You can keep your money. You can't do anything more to me.”

Amelia got up and turned to walk out. But she froze when she saw Edward standing in the doorway. Amelia glanced back at her mother. “You are cruel,” she said.

Taking a deep breath, she walked to the door and smiled up at Edward. She took his hand and led him through the house and out the door to the small garden. As was everything else in Boston, it was covered with snow.

“Do you mind if we walk?” Edward asked. “It's easier to stay warm.”

“Sure,” she said.

They walked out to the street and strolled down the narrow sidewalk. “How did you know I was here?” she asked.

“Your mother suspected you'd be coming by this morning. Inez called me right after you arrived.” He shook his head. “Don't blame her. She was only following orders.”

“Edward, I know that you've always wanted things to be different between—”

Edward pressed a finger to her lips. “Stop. Let me talk.”

“All right,” she said, his fingers still on her lips.

“You were right,” Edward said.

“I was?”

He nodded. “We were a good match, but not a great match. I thought it was enough to be good together. Until I met Vanessa.”

“Vanessa?”

“Vanessa. She works in our securities division. Vanessa Paredes. She's from Argentina.”

“Argentina?”

“Yes. She's beautiful and fiery and funny and passionate and we are perfect for each other. If it weren't for you, I never would have found her.”

Amelia threw her arms around Edward's neck and gave him a fierce hug. “I'm so happy for you.”

“And I'm happy for you,” Edward said. He stepped back. “There is one more thing, Amelia. Something you should know.”

“What is it?”

“Your grandfather's trust,” he said. “Your parents were using it to try to get you to marry me. And, for a while, I supported that effort. But they don't have any right to keep that money from you. It's yours.” He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out his business card. “Call me. I can help you get it.”

She looked down at the card, tears swimming in her eyes. “Thank you, Edward.”

He leaned close and kissed her cheek. “I'll send you an invitation to the wedding.”

“I wouldn't miss it,” Amelia said.

She watched him walk away, the collar of his cashmere overcoat pulled up against the wind. A shiver skittered through her and she rubbed her arms through her down jacket.

Amelia glanced up and down the street. What was next? she wondered. For the first time in her life there were no expectations hanging over her head. And, for the first time in her life, Amelia knew exactly where she belonged.

* * *

A
LIGHT
SNOW
began to fall right around sunset. The radio forecasters predicted another snowstorm, this time moving in from the west.

Sam had made the drive to Boston faster than his map program told him he could, but the trip hadn't turned out anything as he'd expected.

He started at the museum, certain that he'd find Amelia hard at work when he arrived. But the museum was closed to visitors until noon. When he went to the loading dock, a security guard informed him that they couldn't take his shipment without an approved bill of lading. Sam asked to talk to Amelia, but the guard told him that Ms. Sheffield was no longer employed by the museum.

Sam didn't know what the hell to make of that news, so he decided to forget the element of surprise and call her. But when he dialed her cell phone number, there was no answer. He had her home address and decided to try that next. But after hanging around in front of her building for two hours, and buzzing at half-hour intervals, she didn't respond and her apartment appeared dark and deserted.

What the hell had happened? He tried to formulate some possibilities and the only thing he could come up with was that she was with her family. Maybe she'd decided to go home to make amends with her parents. Or maybe Edward had been the lucky guy to warrant a visit.

“Damn it, Amelia,” he muttered. “What the hell is going on?”

Sam grabbed his cell phone again, this time dialing the inn. Sarah picked up after two rings. “Blackstone Inn. This is Sarah.”

“Hey, it's me,” he said.

“Hey, you! How's it going? Is Amelia with you? Let me talk to her.”

“She isn't. I wasn't able to find her. Something is going on. I was wondering if she might have called the inn.”

“No. What do you think is wrong?”

“They said she didn't work at the museum anymore.”

“What does that mean?” Sarah asked.

Sam swore beneath his breath. “I don't know.” He paused to gather his thoughts. “I even drove past her parents' house.”

“Did you go in?”

“No, there was a gate. If she's there, she doesn't need me interrupting her. Besides, I'm not ready to meet her parents.”

“What are you going to do?” Sarah asked.

“I'm coming home,” he said.

“What about the bed?”

“The museum has the wrong bed. But since she doesn't work there anymore, I suppose it doesn't make a difference.”

“You're giving up awfully easy,” Sarah said.

“It was a bad idea in the first place. This is just the fates telling me it wasn't meant to be.”

“I wouldn't be so sure of that,” Sarah insisted.

“She left this morning,” he said. “If she had really wanted to stay, she would have.”

“But you're in love with her,” Sarah said.

Sam sighed heavily. “I guess I am.”

“I'll see you in a little while,” Sarah said. “I'm cooking roasted chicken for dinner. James is eating with us.”

Sam flipped off his phone and tossed it on the passenger seat. He'd need to get used to being the third wheel at the inn. No doubt, James would be moving in soon. And though it would be nice to have a handy guy around, living with a third person would be an adjustment.

He'd imagined how things might end with Amelia, but he'd never pictured this. He'd gone from holding her in his arms that morning to wondering where she was and who she was with twelve hours later.

Edward. That was the only name that was banging around in his head at the moment. But why? He knew Amelia didn't love him, and yet Sam still felt threatened. Maybe it was because Sam knew what he'd do to keep Millie in his life. If Edward felt even half for her as much as Sam did, he wouldn't let her out of his sight. And the other man had much more to offer.

Sam reached for the radio and switched it on to a country station as he headed home, listening to song after song about betrayal and heartbreak.

He didn't regret a single moment of his time with her. He'd put it all out there, risked everything, opened his heart as he never had before. If she was gone for good, he'd accept the fact and move on.

Yet Sam couldn't imagine what it might be to start another relationship with someone new. He was twenty-eight years old. He'd had a number of lovers and girlfriends in his life but not one of them had compared to Amelia. Not one of them had captured his heart as she had.

So he'd spend the rest of his life alone. At least now he could appreciate the inn and all its quirks.

But what if Amelia had quit her job so that she could come back to Millhaven and be with him? That would mean all her intentions from that morning had fallen away. That she couldn't live without him. That she loved him as much as he loved her.

The thought occupied his mind as he finally drove through Millhaven and headed up the road to the inn. But to his disappointment, there was no Lexus SUV parked in the driveway when he arrived.

Sam parked his pickup near the kitchen door. The lights inside were on and he saw Sarah moving around through the frost-glazed windows. He opened the door and walked inside, stomping the snow from his boots.

Sarah was standing by the sink, a dish towel in her hands, when he came in. “Hey, there,” she said.