Once and Again (4 page)

Those arrogant bastards on the Board tried to revoke their acceptance of his bid, but the deal was already done. Jake’s lawyers were the best at what they did and his contracts were airtight. They always were.

“How do you plan to turn this place around?” Link asked. “Two decades ago, this club hosted five PGA tournaments in a row, but like you said, it’s been hemorrhaging money for the past few years.”

“Modernize. The course has to be done first. That’s the big draw. Then the clubhouse, and the boathouse, for sure. I’ve been thinking about adding some other amenities, too.” Like a state-of-the-art spa and maybe, just maybe, some luxury homes on the vast property. The goal wasn’t just to restore this place to its former glory, but to drag it, kicking and screaming, into the twenty-first century. Though Jake knew without a doubt that the Board wouldn’t see it that way.

“Renovating the course’ll be a good start. You’re doing the back nine first?”

Jake nodded. “Then the front nine. Gotta keep the members pacified while the work’s being done.”

“I don’t know how you managed to snare Walter Williams to do the job. I’ve played his courses all over the world. He’s the best designer to come out of America in a century.”

“Connections.”

Link eyed him. “Some connections. Heard he’s booked through for the next seven years. What strings did you have to pull?”

“Let’s just say that Walt owed me a favor,” he said, smugness creeping into his voice.

“I don’t want to ask.”

“Good, ’cause I don’t want to tell. Unless you want to tell me which little birdie likes to sing?” Link just gave him a smirk. “Fine. Then let me show you what Walt has planned for this hole.”

“Okay.” Link pulled his cap even lower, gave a nod to his caddy, and began the walk down to the green. “I still can’t wait to hear how you’re going to keep the old folks happy while getting new blood in here.”

Jake followed in his footsteps, his own caddy trailing behind. “I have a secret weapon.”

“You gonna tell me?”

“After that little-birdie shit you pulled? No way.” Link would figure it out soon enough, anyway.

Carolyn Rivington.

Her threadbare suit. Her hair, perfectly in place. The quivering of her body she tried so hard to keep under control. The deep expression of resolve on her beautiful face—like a down-on-her-luck Jackie Kennedy with those pearls and that proud smile.

He needed her.
God damn it,
even after everything she and her family did to him, he still needed her to make nice with the members and the Board while he worked them from the other end.

Yeah, he needed her, bad. He’d even told her so.

But he’d be a fucking liar if he said he didn’t want her, too.

Carolyn swept her gaze over the seated crowd in Briarwood’s main ballroom before turning to the club’s chief steward, a silver-haired man named Wes Valles. “It looks like the Rotarians are set,” she said.
Finally.

Planning this event had been ridiculously tough, as most of the members of the Eastbridge Rotary Club were elderly men completely set in their ways. The infighting among the group had made organizing their annual luncheon more difficult than some of the weddings she’d done. Ultimately, though, after numerous frustrating phone calls and more than one meeting where tensions ran high, Carolyn managed to figure out who was
truly
in charge and got the vice president of the club to sign off on the event.

Wes nodded. “We’re about to serve dessert. Then they can start the toasts.”

As if on cue, servers appeared from a side door, quickly spreading throughout the room. Each server bore a tray of vanilla custard flecked with raisins, a choice that had taken no less than two hours to decide. Carolyn leaned a bit closer to Wes so that her words would reach his ears only. “I know these guys aren’t the easiest to deal with, but you and your team have made this event run so smoothly.”

“Just doing my job, Carolyn,” he said, her name sounding awkward on his tongue. Still, she was pleased by it. Wes was one of the old-school staff, and he’d been at Briarwood when she was a girl. For a full month after her arrival, she was Ms. Rivington. It had taken considerable effort and charm to get him to drop the formality. He was still uncomfortable about it—she could tell—but it was a breakthrough.

“How’s the new grandbaby doing?” she asked.

Wes’s worn face broke into a smile. “Crawling, now. He’s got some legs on him, that one.” He pulled out his cellphone and showed her a picture of a cherubic child with dimpled knees.

“Aww,” she said. “Tell me when he takes his first steps, Wes. There’s nothing cuter than a little guy toddling around, grabbing everything in sight.”

For one long moment, he studied her face, searching for the truth. He must have found what he was looking for, because he finally gave a short nod. “I’ll do that. Thanks for asking about him.”

Carolyn gave him a wry smile. “I’m definitely living vicariously through you. Not that I want kids right now,” she said quickly, punctuating the words with a nervous little laugh, “but I like hearing about other people’s children.”

“I get it,” Wes said, and maybe he did.

In every one of her romantic relationships, the subject of children hadn’t come up. She and Jake had been young—way too young—and the men she’d dated after him hadn’t mentioned having them, either. Then again, they were the kind of men who jetted off to Paris for a weekend on a moment’s notice, or took long holidays in Belize. To them, children were an encumbrance, something to finally have
at last,
but definitely not at first. And she’d bought into it. But since she’d been back in Eastbridge, she’d found great pleasure in hearing about the few children who graced her life, even tangentially. It wasn’t that her biological clock was ticking. It was that she associated children with family. With community.

She blinked. “I’m going to grab some lunch now,” she told Wes. “Call my cell if you need me.”

“We’ll be fine,” Wes said. “There’s nothing left to do here but the cleanup, and we have that covered.”

“Great. Thanks again. You did a really stellar job.”

Carolyn went by the kitchen, gave a nod to Eric, who was in the throes of his lunch service, and carefully, so as not to disturb anyone’s work, swiped a fresh roll, a knife, and some sea salt butter. She broke open the bread, smeared the butter inside, then folded the roll back up. Quickly, she backed out of the kitchen, half-expecting to see Jake glowering at her in the hall. To her relief, he wasn’t there, so she slipped outside, instinctively heading for the stone wall on one side of the large meadow behind the clubhouse, remnants of the property’s history as a dairy farm. Despite the cloudy sky, after weeks of cold and rain, it finally felt like spring.

When she got to the wall, she realized there was no way to sit down. Even the driest-looking spots would do a number on her silk pantsuit. So she simply breathed in the air, took a bite of bread and butter, and gazed out over the meadow. During the summer it would be used to stage badminton games. In the distance to her left, she could see the tennis courts. A few brave souls were playing on the damp courts, gamely hitting the ball back and forth. It would be another month before there’d be a waiting list for playing times. To her right, closer to the main building, the croquet lawn sat vacant but neatly groomed, waiting for warmer-weather players.

She took another bite.
God,
this bread was good. She should have taken two rolls. Or some cheese. Maybe tomorrow. Now that she knew there was going to
be
a tomorrow for her at Briarwood. Because Jake needed her.

Strange to be needed, especially by him. Strange, but welcome. She’d always been accepted wherever she went. Her mother’s social connections and her family’s wealth easily paved the way. And then when she lost everything, she realized that acceptance didn’t mean respect, or even friendship. Blair and Dani seemed to have that figured out long before she did. It had taken working at Briarwood to show her the bubble—the utter vacuum—in which she’d been living.

All of a sudden a wave of exhaustion hit her, and no wonder. She’d been burning the candle at both ends for months.
Lord,
she was tired. Perhaps she could risk leaning against the wall. She chose the driest spot she could find, then ever-so-slowly settled back against it.

Just as she got comfortable, there was a crunching sound from the woods behind her. She pushed herself up and turned, only to see Jake Gaffney coming up on her fast, tattoos on display once again under the edge of his gray T-shirt. For once, he wasn’t wearing a scowl, but before she could figure out whether to stay or go, he’d scaled the low wall and came to stand beside her.

“Jake,” she said in greeting. It still felt strange to call him that. Strange, and intimate.

He didn’t look at her, just stared out over the meadow. “Just came from a meeting with our course designer,” he said. “It’s going to be gorgeous. But this is beautiful, too, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Very.” So beautiful in springtime, the grounds just coming alive, all that hope and promise shimmering in the air. She’d had that with him, once, her whole life spread out before her. She could do anything, be anyone. She hadn’t made good on that promise, but he had, hadn’t he? “How’d you get the money to buy this place?” she blurted out.

He didn’t even turn to look at her. “Didn’t you Google me?”

This not-angry new Jake was something she hadn’t yet seen. She pressed her lips together, unwilling to lie to him. Of course she’d Googled him, but the search results had returned nothing of substance. All she found was that he was a well-known real estate developer. There was nothing to fill in the blanks between then and now. He’d either done a good job of keeping himself out of the press—or he’d paid someone to do it for him.

“I know you didn’t find anything,” he said, “so I’ll tell you. I did it the hard way.” He paused. “I earned it.” The implication being she hadn’t. “You want to know how,” he stated.

“Yes.” She did. Desperately.

“I worked my ass off,” he said, matter-of-factly. “For years I didn’t sleep, barely ate, just kept my eye on the prize. I took risks. Big ones. They paid off.”

“So you got lucky?”

“Luck was only part of it. The other part was me not wanting to fuck up.”

“Didn’t you—weren’t you afraid you’d lose everything you earned if you kept taking risks?”

Jake shook his head. “I started with nothing, and I figured I had nothing to lose by gunning for it. It’s hard, just keeping it all going. But that’s what you have to do. Don’t leave any energy for the way back because there isn’t a way back.” He was still looking out at the meadow, obviously talking more to himself than to her.

Then he shifted to face her, his eyes steely, hard points, and she felt it—all his power and drive, the restlessness that propelled him forward. It was sexy, ruthless, intoxicating. This wasn’t what she thought he’d turn out to be, and she admired him—everything he’d done, everything he’d been through, achieving so much more than anyone ever thought possible.

But thinking of him like this wasn’t at all smart because nothing could come of it. She knew how he saw her—like some relic from the past whose only use was to bridge the gap between the old Briarwood and the new.

“I told,” he said. “Now it’s your turn. What the hell really happened to you?”

She forced herself to meet his gaze. “My dad made some bad financial decisions. Trusted an advisor he shouldn’t have. We lost almost everything. And so did many of our friends. They mostly hate us. But it was my fault, too. I wasn’t prepared for…well, for this, I guess. I had no backup plan because I didn’t think I’d ever need one.” Her parents had put her in lockdown after that
fiasco
with Jake—her father’s word. And at some point while she’d been dutifully following orders, doing everything her parents asked of her just so they wouldn’t be so
angry
anymore, she’d lost her passion, her reason for being.

“You didn’t get married?” He was still watching her intently.

“No.” There’d never been a good enough reason—or a good enough man. “Did you?”

“Too busy,” he said brusquely. “So you were left with no husband, no money, and no friends?”

“That pretty much sums it up.” She’d become a cipher, subsumed into her parents’ expectations of who they thought she should be. In the end, the loss of her lifestyle just underscored what she already was—nothing. She glanced over at Jake, and his eyes had gone soft. As if he might actually be sorry for her. She didn’t want to see his pity. Couldn’t bear it, actually. “It’s okay,” she told him. “Things are different now. I’m trying to make them different.”

All at once, his face went hard again.

“I have a meeting,” he said, rather abruptly. And just like that, he was gone, back the way he’d come through the woods.

A sick feeling settled in her stomach.
God,
he really did hate her, and she was just deluding herself to think he might want any kind of relationship, even a friendship, with her.

She was still clutching her half-eaten buttered roll, and while she didn’t much feel like eating it now, she couldn’t let it go to waste, either. The sky was getting darker, so she walked back to the clubhouse. As she reached the staff entrance, she saw Jane Pringle coming out carrying a tote wider than she was. The dark-haired woman gave a little wave.

“Hey,” Jane said, pulling her jacket a little more tightly around her slim body and hitching up her bag. “It got chilly all of a sudden.”

Carolyn forced a smile onto her face and waved back. “I think it’s going to rain, but you’ll make it to your car. It’s a few minutes off.” As if on cue, the wind picked up. “Were you here for Susumo?”

Jane nodded. “I’m not complaining. Having the extra business is good.”

“So is your work. I heard from Bebe Knowles that her flower cake was a huge hit. I told Susumo how pleased the client was, but I’m glad to have the chance to tell you in person, since I know you did the bulk of the work on it.”

“Thanks,” Jane said, flushing with pleasure. “I thought it turned out well, but it’s not my opinion that matters.” Jane studied her for a few moments, then cocked her head and looked at her sideways. “Say, are you all right? You look a little pale.”

“I’m fine,” she said, pushing her hair behind her ears. “I just have a lot on my mind.”

“Well, I can imagine, what with the new owner and all. Is he as scary as everyone says?”

“Scarier,” Carolyn told her.

“Oh, well, I can’t wait to meet him, then,” Jane said with a grin. She pointed to Carolyn’s roll. “You want a bag for that?”

“Um, sure. Do you actually have one?”

“I usually have a couple of spares.” Jane reached into her giant bag. “Let’s see here. Ah, yes.” She pulled out a clean plastic baggie and handed it to Carolyn.

“Thank you.” She tucked the roll inside and peered at Jane’s bag, fascinated. “What else do you have in there?”

“Oh, headache medication, a sewing kit, some knives and baking implements. My kid’s artwork. A pair of clean socks. A leaf. You know, the usual.”

“That’s funny.”

Jane shrugged. “That’s my life.”

Carolyn laughed and shook her head. “Okay. Speaking of the scary new owner, did Susumo talk to you about the welcome party I’m planning?”

“He mentioned it, but didn’t give me dates.”

“I’m glad he said something to you because if he didn’t ask you to come onboard, I was going to. Obviously, I need a cake.”

“You’re in luck,” Jane said. “I do cake!”

Carolyn grinned. Jane’s cheeky personality was infectious, plus her willingness to do anything to help out was exactly what she needed right now. “So what do you know about the event?”

“Nothing yet, but let me guess—it has to be super luxe and organized on short notice?”

“However did you know?” Carolyn said, letting wryness seep into her tone.

“Experience,” Jane said. “I’ve planned a few in my time.”

Carolyn blinked. Was Jane saying what she thought she was? Where had this woman come from, anyway? All Carolyn knew about her was that she worked at a bakery in Eastbridge, made a killer cake, and couldn’t be more down-to-earth.
Intriguing.
And maybe worth delving into more deeply.

“Why don’t you tell me what week the party is going to be held so I can clear it with my boss, Evelyn, if I get called in?”

“Right now I’m looking at the third week in May. I think we have two other parties that week, which would be a huge amount of work in a short amount of time. I’ll get Susumo the details when I have them, and he can pass them along to you.”

“Great, great. If I can swing it, I’ll make it happen.” Jane was silent for a moment. “You know, I’ve been thinking we should grab coffee sometime.”

Carolyn blinked. Jane was asking her to coffee. And while she was a bit apprehensive about putting herself out there, talking with Jane was easy. “I’d like that,” she said slowly.