24
A
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Abby watched while the party wound down, Bree and Connor were slowly drawn back
into Megan's orbit. It wasn't so much a thawing as a mix of determination on
Megan's part and longing on theirs. It seemed that every time Abby glanced
their way, her brother and sister were laughing and her mother was looking more
and more relaxed. Relieved, she reached for a flute of champagne, then turned
to find her cousin Susie standing beside her.
"Did your dad come tonight?" she asked Susie. "I haven't seen
him."
Susie shook her head. "Jess invited him, but Dad didn't want to risk
getting into some kind of argument with Mick and spoiling the evening. Those
two are still like oil and water. It's ridiculous, if you ask me, but you know
how stubborn they are." She glanced pointedly toward Megan. "It's
probably a good thing Dad stayed away tonight, though. One family reunion is
probably about all this occasion could stand. How did you pull that off?"
"Gentle persuasion," Abby claimed. "And a whole lot of
prayer."
"Uncle Mick keeps circling back to her," Susie said. "Do you
think there's any chance they'll get back together after all this time?"
"I'm really, really trying not to think that far ahead," Abby
claimed. "Now tell me about you. How's the real-estate business around
here?"
"Surprisingly good. In fact, just last week I made a huge sale."
"Really?"
"One of Mick's original houses, in fact, just up the road from here."
Abby's eyes lit up. "The Marshalls' house? I saw the For Sale sign when I
first got back to town."
Susie nodded, though her expression had grown oddly wary.
"I used to love that house," Abby exclaimed. "I always thought
the glassed-in sunporch was amazing. Who bought it?"
Now there was real worry in Susie's eyes. "You don't know?" she asked
cautiously.
Abby frowned at the question. "Why would I know?"
"I just thought…Oh, well, never mind."
Abby's suspicions went on full alert. Trace? Surely not. He wouldn't do
something like that without mentioning it to her, would he?
"Was it Trace?" she demanded.
Susie flinched at the direct question or perhaps it was because of her sharp
tone. "I should never have said anything," Susie said, obviously
dismayed. "I'm sure he meant it to be a surprise."
"Yes, I'm sure he did," Abby said tightly, then regarded her cousin
apologetically. "Susie, don't worry about spilling the beans. You didn't
do anything wrong."
"I just opened my big, fat mouth when I shouldn't have," Susie
grumbled. "Great job of protecting my client's confidentiality."
"It's not as if you blabbed to the universe," Abby soothed her.
"You told me only because you assumed I already knew."
"I hope Trace understands that."
"Believe me, he'll have more important things to worry about," Abby
said grimly. Like trying to explain why he'd bought a house in Chesapeake
Shores without saying a single word to her. Either, like Susie, he'd made a
whole lot of assumptions about his powers of persuasion or he was making his
own intentions clear and leaving it to her to stay or go.
She fingered the cell phone in her pocket and was about to go outside and call
the louse, when she turned and saw him walking toward her. Susie spotted him,
as well, and immediately gave Abby a quick kiss on the cheek. "I think I
see my cue to leave heading this way."
"Chicken," Abby called after her, then turned to wait for Trace.
"You look amazing," he said. He leaned down to kiss her, but Abby
dodged the gesture. The flare of heat in his eyes died at once, replaced by
wariness. "Something wrong?"
"When were you going to tell me?" she demanded. "The day I left
for the airport to go back to New York?"
Trace cast a glance toward Susie's retreating back and sighed. "You know
about the house."
"I do."
"You always loved that house," he reminded her.
"I did, but it doesn't mean you should go out and make a purchase like
that without even talking to me. I thought we were trying to work things out,
taking one day at a time."
"We are."
"So you bought a house here to shift the odds that I'd agree to stay in
Chesapeake Shores?"
"I bought a house because I knew you loved it," he corrected.
"If, when all is said and done, you want to go to New York, we'll go, but
at least we'd always have our own place here for weekends or vacations."
She didn't entirely believe that's what he wanted. "But you want to live
here." She knew it sounded like an accusation, rather than a question.
He shrugged, then nodded. "I do, but I meant every word I said. I'm going
where you go. I love you, and I'm not about to lose you again over something as
ridiculous as which city you like. I can work anywhere. New York even has some
benefits for me. Most of my contacts are there." He looked deep into her
eyes. "Want to get down off that high horse now and kiss me like you mean
it? I've just been to war with your ex-husband. I think I deserve a warmer
welcome than the one I just got."
Abby wasn't quite ready to let the issue go, but she did kiss him. As heat
swirled through her, it seemed less and less important to insist on getting her
own way. Compromise was good. She'd have to think about that.
Meantime, though, she met his gaze. "You're back sooner than you expected
to be. What happened with Wes?"
"I decided not to wait for morning. I had a little chat with Wes and
Gabrielle tonight. Bottom line, he's going to see that the order is
withdrawn."
Abby could envision her ex saying whatever Trace wanted to hear just to get rid
of him. "You believe him?"
"I do. All he really wanted was to be sure I wouldn't convince you and the
girls to stay here and keep them from him."
"He wasn't far off the mark about your plan to keep me here, was he?"
"No, but those girls are his daughters. No matter how we settle things
between us about where to live, he'll be in their lives. I'll repeat that as
many times as I have to, though he's not going to believe it until he's tested
me a few hundred times, more than likely."
"What made you realize that's what he wanted to be sure about?"
"I knew how I'd feel in his shoes," he said simply. "I may not
be their dad, but I love those little girls with all my heart already."
Abby smiled at the sincerity in his voice. She looked up and studied his
expression. "Do you really, really think we can make it work this time?"
"I know I love you more than anything. I'll do whatever it takes to keep
you happy."
Abby drew in a steadying breath. "I love you, too." It was the first
time she'd risked saying the words aloud, even though she'd known in her heart
for weeks now.
Trace grinned. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"
"What?"
"Putting your heart on the line."
"If you must know, it was scary as hell."
Trace frowned at that. "Not with me, Abby. It should never be scary with
me."
But it was. Not because she didn't trust his love for her. It was just that he
held the power to turn her whole life—the life she'd fought so hard to claim in
the heart of the business world—upside down.
*
* *
The whole family was sitting around the kitchen table at the
house, even Megan. Though she looked a bit ill at ease being there, Mick had
insisted she join them for the early-morning breakfast. It was just 7:00 a.m.,
planned for the early hour because Connor had to get on the road back to
Baltimore for work at the law office where he was clerking for the summer. Abby
and Jess had a thousand things to do before the first guests started arriving
at the inn that afternoon. It was the start of the long Fourth of July holiday,
and they were booked solid. In fact, they'd had to turn away several people.
"I should leave and go back to New York," Megan said at once when she
heard that. "I'm in your biggest room."
"Mom, I reserved that for you," Abby assured her. "I'm paying.
We're not losing money on it."
Jess's gaze darted up at that. "You're planning to pay for the room?"
Abby nodded. "Of course."
Jess shook her head. "No, you're not. We're talking about family. Family
is not paying to stay at my inn."
Though it wasn't entirely clear whether she was more concerned about Abby's
checkbook or her mother's feelings, her remarks brought tears to Megan's eyes.
She reached for Jess's hand, but Jess withdrew it from the table before her
mother could clasp it. The fragile moment died.
Mick stepped in to save the tenuous peace. "I think you should put your
mother and me to work today. Let us help out."
Jess gave him a quizzical look. "Doing what? Carrying bags?"
"I can do that, if it's what you need. And your mother could help Gail in
the kitchen. She's quite a cook."
Jess looked thoroughly bewildered by the offer. "Why would either of you
do that?"
Mick leveled a look into her eyes. "We're talking about family," he
said, tossing her words right back at her. "Family does whatever it can to
help out on a big day for any one of our own. For one reason or another, your
mother and I have missed out on way too many big moments in your lives."
He included Abby, Bree and Connor in the comment. "Let us start trying to
make up for that."
"I've already offered to help Gail with some baking today," Gram
chimed in.
"You have?" Jess said, astounded. "I had no idea."
"You can tell her I'll be bringing a batch of my carrot-cake cupcakes over
around three o'clock, so they'll be there if the guests want tea and a snack
after they check in."
Abby listened to the exchange with a sense of satisfaction. Surely now Jess
would have no doubts about her place in this family. Only Connor, who was
leaving in an hour, and Bree, who'd been unusually quiet even for her, hadn't
chimed in with an offer to pitch in today. It was Bree who worried her, but she
couldn't sit her sister down and try yet again to figure out what was going on
until after the inn was operating smoothly. Maybe by tonight she'd have a few
minutes to spare to see why Bree looked so lost.
They were all about to leave the table and head off to handle their respective
assignments when Abby's cell phone rang. Glancing at the caller ID, she saw it
was her boss. She realized it had been days since she'd spoken to Jack, even
though she'd sent in daily e-mails to update him on her accounts and on the
situation with Wes that he'd helped her to resolve.
She excused herself and walked outside to take the call.
"How was the party?" he asked at once.
"A huge success. Today the first guests arrive."
"And then you'll be back with us full-time?"
"Very soon," she said. "Why? Are people up there rumbling about
my being away so long?"
"No, the opposite, in fact. Something's come up out of town and they're
wondering if you might not be the perfect person to handle it."
Abby waited for the familiar stirring of excitement at the prospect of a
brand-new challenge, but it didn't come. The out-of-town part was worrisome.
She was actually hesitant as she asked him to explain.
"I know you love working here in the city," he began. "But
recently I've started getting the feeling that maybe you're conflicted about
your responsibilities here and your family down there."
Abby's heart seemed to stall in her chest. "Are you firing me?"
"Heavens, no," he said at once. "Far from it. The Baltimore
office needs fresh leadership. It can't be much more than an hour or so away
from Chesapeake Shores, right?"
"On a good day," Abby said wryly, thinking of the traffic jams she'd
encountered on that route on recent trips.
"Well, we think you'd be perfect for the job. You have the organizational
skills and the portfolio skills to turn that office into one of the most
profitable in the company. It's been lagging behind in terms of the client
portfolios down there. We've been losing clients, who see their friends making
better profits with other brokerages. You could change that and be close to
your family. We'd still want you to be in New York on a regular basis, at least
once a month to consult with us, but this whole operation would be yours, Abby."
She heard the enthusiasm in his voice, but she couldn't get past her fear that
the company wanted her out of the way. "Why do I feel as if I'm being put
out to pasture? Is this a punishment because of that whole situation with
Gabrielle?"
"Absolutely not. It's an amazing opportunity for you and, to be honest,
for the company to turn around a bad situation."
Abby tried to see it from his perspective, but she couldn't deny the sense that
he was painting a rosy picture to make it easier for her to swallow what
amounted to a bitter pill. In her business, New York was the place to be, the
heart of the financial world. Baltimore was…nowhere.
She swallowed hard. "Do I have a choice about this?"
"Of course."
"You sure about that?"
"You work for me. It's my call, so, yes, I'm sure. You say the word and
you stay right here."
That made it easier, she thought with relief. "Can I think it over?"
"Call me the first of the week," he suggested. "How's
that?"
"First thing Monday morning," she promised. Maybe by then she could
wrap her mind around the implications of this so-called "opportunity"
for herself and maybe even for her future with Trace.
*
* *
By Monday, though, Abby was no closer to a decision than she
had been when Jack had first called. She needed to go to Baltimore, to get a
firsthand look at the situation she'd be walking into. It was the only way to
decide if it was a challenge she'd enjoy or if she'd come to resent being
trapped in a dead-end position.
With Bree promising to keep an eye on the girls and Jess proving herself to be
more than capable of handling the day-to-day operation at the inn, Abby got
into her rental car and drove to Baltimore. When she reached the firm's
offices, she sat across the street staring at the building. Instead of the skyscraper
she was used to, the offices here were in a four-story, historical building
with some charm, but little to distinguish it from other similar buildings
around it. That alone gave her pause. Something about walking into the
marble-floored lobby of a soaring building had always made her think big, made
her feel as if she were part of something magnificent.
Inside the building, which also housed a law firm, an insurance agency and
doctors' offices, she made her way to the fourth floor. The elevator opened
onto plush, navy-blue carpeting and a massive reception desk. The immediate
impression was of wealth and class. She was somewhat reassured by that.
The receptionist looked up at once. "You must be Mrs. Winters. Go right
in. Mr. Wallace is waiting for you. It's the big office in the corner on the
left." She grinned. "Best view in the place. You can see the
harbor."
The impression created by the lobby extended to the back, where offices were
private and decorated simply but elegantly. When she tapped on Mitch Wallace's
door, she almost missed seeing him because of the stunning view behind him.
Working boats and yachts dotted the blue water. He grinned at her apparently
awestruck expression.
"Worth the price of admission, isn't it?" he said, shaking her hand,
then gesturing toward a chair. "I swear it's the only reason I took this
job thirty years ago. I'm going to hate saying goodbye to this view."
"You're retiring?"
"End of the month," he confirmed. "You going to take my
place?"
"I'm still undecided," she admitted. "Tell me about the office.
I hear it's been underperforming."
He nodded, clearly not offended by the characterization. "It has been. I
came in here as a proven manager, not an analyst. I've got a lot of young men
and women working for me who are eager and ambitious, but they all want to be
in New York. Most of them can't see that the best way to get there is by
proving themselves here with what they refer to as nickel-and-dime trades. From
everything I hear about you from the folks in New York, you could take their
skills to the next level."
"You're saying what this job needs is a teacher," she said, frowning.
Did she really want to train a bunch of younger people so they could head for
New York and replace her? The thought made her even more unsure whether this
was the right place for her.
Just then a man who looked to be no more than marble-floored or twenty-six
poked his head in. "Sorry to interrupt," he said, acknowledging Abby
with a nod. "Mitch, I have Harry Fleming on the line. He's determined to
make a trade that doesn't make any sense to me. Can you speak to him?"
Mitch glanced toward Abby. "Want to take a shot at it?"
"Sure," she said, then gestured toward the broker. "Get on the
line with us, okay?"
Looking surprised, he nodded, then picked up the second phone in the office as
Abby spoke to the client. "Mr. Fleming, I'm Abby Winters. I'm here from
the New York office. Maybe I can help you. Why don't you tell me what you want
to trade and why? The broker here seems to have some reservations about
it."
"Fool kid's still wet behind the ears," he muttered.
Abby noticed that said ears had just turned bright red. "I don't know
about that, sir. Most of our brokers have solid credentials. Perhaps, though,
he's not understanding what your specific goals are with this trade."
He mentioned the name of the company he wanted to sell. Abby winced. It was a
blue-chip stock, one on which she knew they still had an enthusiastic buy
recommendation. Then he told her the stock he was hoping to purchase with that
money.
"That one still has a lot of upside," he told her confidently.
"The other one's a dinosaur."
Abby glanced across the room at the young broker and winked. "You
certainly have a point, Mr. Fleming, but I was the corporate analyst who
studied that particular stock just last week. I looked at their future
prospects, their cash flow, their price-earnings ratio and I have to tell you,
it's very likely you'd be making a huge mistake. You might have some gains in
the short term, because there's a lot of attention being paid to the stock
right now, but unless you keep a close eye on it and get out fast, you'll lose
as much as you make. Maybe more."
Her comments were greeted by silence. "You sure about that?" he
asked.
"I put a high-risk label on it myself," she told him. "I'm sure
the broker's concern stemmed from that. We're not recommending it right now.
The decision is yours, of course, but I think your broker was just trying to
prevent you from taking a loss. Now if you have some cash in your account and
want to speculate with a few shares, that's something else entirely, but I
wouldn't trade the other stock for this one."
He sighed. "Let me speak to Dave again," he said. "And thank you
for setting me straight. Don't know why he didn't do it in the first
place."
"I think he was trying to, sir. He's just not as blunt as I am," Abby
suggested. "Here's Dave now."
She sat back down and met Mitch Wallace's gaze. There'd been something about
that phone call that had reminded her that there were real people affected by
some of the decisions she made. She'd always understood that, of course. But
engrossed in her analysis of reports from dozens of different companies,
sometimes she lost sight of what that human contact felt like.
Before she could say any of that, though, Dave hung up and looked at her with
real respect. "Thank you. I think he was about two minutes from pulling
his whole account because I couldn't make him see my point. It's a good thing
you were around."
He left the room, then, and Abby saw Mitch studying her intently.
"See what I mean? You could make a real difference here."
Abby nodded slowly. Maybe she could. A part of her wanted to call New York and
suggest that she take over on a trial basis, but she immediately dismissed the
idea. She needed to make a commitment, to this job and these people, to
Chesapeake Shores and to Trace. It was time.