The Secret Sister (12 page)

“I thought that was your voice!” Laney cried. “Grandma, this is her! She's right here!”

Rafe's mother eyed Maisey speculatively. “Hello.”

Supremely conscious of what she'd done with this woman's son, but wanting to be polite, Maisey angled her cart so she could talk to both Dinah and Laney's grandmother. “Hi.”

“I'm Vera, Raphael's mother.”

“It's nice to meet you.”

“You, too.” She nodded a greeting intended for Dinah, but Dinah was preoccupied, trying to stop her son from taking off his pants.

“No! Mommy said to leave 'em on, Justy,” Dinah said. “We'll go change you in a minute.”

Vera's attention returned to Maisey. “Laney says you write children's books.”

“I've written a few, yes. But right now, I'm working in my mother's flower shop.”

Dinah looked up in spite of the fact that her son was now screaming, “Mommy, icky! Poop!”

“You're kidding me!” she said. “You're
famous
?”

Apparently she'd ignored the part about being back at the flower shop. “Not quite,” Maisey replied.

“Her book has Molly Brimble in it,” Laney announced. “And Molly Brimble has hair that goes all over unless she braids it. So Maisey is going to teach me how to braid so I can keep her hair nice. Aren't you?”

Laney spoke to the ceiling until her grandmother gently turned her head so she was facing Maisey. “When you speak to people, remember to point your nose at them, okay, honey? That helps people know who you're talking to.”

“Okay,” she said, but she was too absorbed in the excitement of Molly Brimble and those braids to remember her grandmother's advice, because as soon as Rafe's mother let go, her head rocked back again. “Aren't you, Maisey?” she asked. “Aren't you going to teach me how to braid?”

“Sure,” Maisey said. “I'd be happy to do that.”

“Laney tells me you're Mrs. Lazarow's daughter, and if you're already working at Love's in Bloom, I guess it's true.”

“Yes.” Did Vera know her mother personally? She didn't indicate one way or the other.

“And you live in one of the bungalows that Rafe will be rehabbing?”

Vera Romero was probably wondering why Maisey wasn't living at Coldiron House. “Yes. My father developed those bungalows when I was a child. I have fond memories of them.”

Her expression softened. “I remember your father. He was a kind man.”

The familiarity in her voice was so unexpected, Maisey had to wonder how her father and Mrs. Romero's paths had crossed. “Did you know him well?”

Vera hesitated as if she was trying to pick her words carefully, but Rafe came striding down the aisle before she could say anything. “I'm beat,” he said to his mother. “You two about ready to go?”

Maisey hadn't expected him to be there, but it made sense. Due to the difficulty of getting cars on and off the island, it was likely that Vera didn't have a vehicle of her own. Maisey guessed she couldn't drive, anyway, her hands were so gnarled with arthritis.

Vera raised her voice, trying to be heard over the racket Dinah's son was making. “Almost. Laney was just introducing me to your neighbor.”

Rafe's eyes passed coolly over Maisey. “Hi,” he said, but it was a perfunctory greeting. He didn't sound pleased to see her. She assumed he was angry at the way she'd treated him when he came to help her move last night. She felt bad about it, but he had no idea what she was going through or how carefully she needed to protect herself from getting involved with the wrong man.

“Can I go over to Maisey's house tonight, Daddy?” Laney grabbed his leg. “She's going to teach me how to braid.”

Rafe scratched his neck, taking so long to answer that Maisey got the impression he didn't want to say yes. “She's probably too busy tonight.”

That was a leading statement. He was obviously hoping Maisey would agree. But when Laney's face fell with disappointment, she didn't have the heart to put the girl off. She figured she might as well fulfill her promise sooner rather than later. “It's fine with me. It won't take long.”

“Hi, Rafe.” Dinah smiled up from where she was still wrestling—one-handed—with her son, trying to get him to quit peeling off his pants.

“Dinah.”

She straightened. “You're looking good.”

“So are you,” he said absently. Then he told his mother he'd be out in his truck and left.

Dinah gave an exasperated sigh. “I should go, too. I can't stay long with Justin freaking out like this.”

“Do you need me to watch the baby while you get what you need?” Maisey held her breath as she awaited the transfer of that small weight. She hadn't had a baby in her arms since Ellie and wasn't sure she could do it without breaking down in tears.

“No, the only thing I really need is some vanilla extract. That's why I didn't grab a cart. But we should get together in the next week or two, catch up.”

Relieved to have escaped baby-holding detail, Maisey let out her breath. “I'd like that,” she said, and punched Dinah's number into her phone.

As Maisey put her phone back in her purse, Dinah leaned close. “Isn't Rafe about the hottest guy you've ever seen?”

“I heard that,” Vera said dryly. “And I'm sure Laney did, too.”

“Daddy's too hot?” Laney's face creased with confusion.

Completely unruffled, Dinah fanned herself. “No, he's too
cute
!” she said. Then she rushed off with both kids to get her vanilla.

Vera stared after her. “Don't you think it's strange that a married woman would say that while holding her kids?”

Maisey could hear “Justy” screaming two aisles over. “They weren't old enough to understand what she was saying.”

She shook her head, slightly exasperated but not really put off. “I guess I should be used to Dinah by now. You never know what's going to come out of her mouth. At least I should be glad it was PG.” Despite her slow and laborious movements, Vera managed to wheel her cart around. “We'd better go. Tell your neighbor goodbye,” she instructed Laney.

“Bye,” Laney repeated.

Maisey was tempted to stop them. She wanted to get an answer out of Rafe's mother about how she'd known Malcolm. But the two were already trundling away. “See you later,” she called out to Laney.

12

R
afe wasn't pleased about seeing Maisey. He'd decided she'd only slept with him to prove she could make him want her. It must've been a game, payback for what had happened before. Why else would she blow hot and then cold?

Or she'd been amusing herself with someone she found attractive enough to have a little fun with but wouldn't consider dating.

He was a father these days. He didn't need that kind of insincere bullshit in his life.

He stood off to one side as Maisey opened her front door.

“Hi, there,” she said when she saw Laney.

Laney edged closer to the threshold, hugging Maisey's book to her chest. He'd pulled her back twice, so she wouldn't be hovering too close, but she was so excited she kept inching forward. “Did we wait long enough?” she asked.

That question sounded as if the delay had been pure torture. Rafe hadn't enjoyed it, either. Laney had been at him from the moment they got home, begging him to take her to Maisey's. He'd been holding her off, trying to give Maisey time to have some dinner and unwind. He didn't want his daughter to become a pain in the ass, especially when Maisey had made it so clear that she wasn't interested in being his friend—or anything else. He assumed she thought he was too shallow for a relationship. She'd joked about it when they flirted in the kitchen, but he'd never dreamed he should be taking that shit seriously. He was what, barely twenty, when they ran into each other at that party?

He'd always been told that women have long memories. Now he believed it.

“This is the perfect time.” Maisey stepped back. “Come on in.”

Rafe guided Laney to the couch, but he had too much energy to sit down himself. He didn't want to be that close to Maisey, anyway, didn't want to pay attention to what she looked like, what she was wearing or what she was doing. So he stood at the window and gazed out while she used the book she'd given Laney to attempt a braiding lesson.

Unfortunately, it didn't go as well as she seemed to expect. It soon became apparent that Laney's little hands weren't quite dexterous enough.

Maisey went over the process several times, step by step, but Laney couldn't follow her instructions. Part of the problem was Laney's inability to complete each step before moving on to the next. Since she couldn't see the end product, she couldn't seem to grasp why it mattered. Forgetting that she had to alternate sides, she'd simply wind the three strands together.

“You'll get it,” Maisey said. “Let's try again.”

Rafe had to give Maisey credit for patience. The lesson went on for half an hour before she looked up at him. “Maybe I should teach you so the two of you can go over it at home?” she suggested.

“Me?”

“She's so...young that it might take some reinforcement.”

“Look, Daddy!” Maisey had been so gentle that Laney had no idea she was failing her first class. “I'm doing it! I'm braiding Molly Brimble's hair!”

“You're close, sweetheart,” he said.

“It'll just take a minute,” Maisey told him, trying to talk him into agreeing.

Swallowing a sigh, he walked over and sat down with them.

“Let me show your dad for a second.” Maisey carefully took the book out of Laney's hands.

She separated the yarn into three sections and demonstrated how each side went over the middle. “That's it,” she said when he picked up on it after only a couple of tries.

“The things I do for love,” he muttered as he clipped a barrette onto the end of Molly's yarn hair.

Maisey shot him a grin. “If only your old friends could see you now.”

Ignoring that comment, he stood. “We've got it, don't we, Laney-bug? Let's go, so Ms. Maisey can...do whatever Ms. Maisey wants to do with her evening.”

“Can Ms. Maisey come over and have some ice cream with us?” Laney asked.

Earlier, Rafe had bribed his daughter with the promise of ice cream before bed to persuade her to calm down and wait. “She doesn't want any ice cream,” he answered before Maisey could respond.

“Thanks,” he said, scooping his daughter into his arms. “We'll get out of your way now.”

* * *

Maisey rested her cheek against the door after she'd closed it. She understood why Rafe was angry with her. He had no clue why she'd turned on him, didn't understand that it'd been a mistake to get involved with him in the first place. He was an innocent bystander who didn't know that her life was like some unfortunate ship that'd been blown onto the rocky coast and smashed to pieces. Everything, even the little she'd had left in her life after Ellie's death and her divorce—namely her career—was sinking to the bottom of the ocean. Someone as beleaguered as she was would be foolish to race into another storm, especially a storm named Rafe Romero.

But that didn't stop certain physical appetites from trying to assert themselves...

With a frown at how unsettled she felt after seeing him, she went to bed. She had to get up early and go back to Love's in Bloom. Nancy was under too much pressure for Maisey to take the time she'd initially planned to set up her house. Until they'd established a manageable routine, Maisey figured she'd have to fit the details of her life around her responsibilities at the shop. Which wasn't a bad thing. The whole point of having a job was to give her some direction, help her battle the gale-force winds she was facing. Maybe, with time, she'd be able to drag herself, battered and waterlogged but glad she was alive, onto solid ground.

Getting some rest sounded great in theory but, hard as she tried, she couldn't sleep. Too many thoughts, worries and conflicting emotions swirled around inside her. There were snippets from that telephone conversation with Jack—
I miss you. Can I come see you sometime?
The hope inspired by any tentative improvement in her relationship with her mother. The concern she felt for Keith, as well as the fear of what he might be doing. The knot that had crept into her throat at the feel of Laney's small hands roving over her face. The memory of how indifferent Rafe had seemed tonight, compared to how focused and engaged he'd been when she was in his bed yesterday. He'd put a lot of effort into pleasing her. She could see why he might be mystified by her retreat. But, as she reminded herself, she should never have gotten involved with him in the first place.

Irritated by her inability to shut off her mind, she climbed out of bed, changed into her swimsuit and pulled a sweatshirt over top, then walked down to the beach.

The moon was so full she didn't need the small flashlight on her key chain, but she'd brought it, just in case. When she found herself as alone as she'd hoped to be, she took off her sweatshirt and dropped it, along with her keys, on the large flat rock that created a little platform—the same rock she'd used when she was younger—and waded into the surf.

The air wasn't nearly as cold as it'd been the night she'd slept outside, because there was no wind. But it was still chilly enough to make the water feel warm by contrast.

Maisey swam hard, trying to exhaust herself, and after an hour or so, she started back to her bungalow. When she passed Rafe's house, she walked partway up the drive to see if he still had a light on.

His place was dark, but picturing him in bed certainly didn't bring her any peace. Her thoughts immediately reverted to how gently and yet confidently he'd touched her, the way he kissed and how comforting it had been to fall asleep with him afterward. That was the first time she hadn't fallen asleep alone since Jack left.

As soon as she got home, she picked up her phone to try calling Keith and saw that she'd received a text.

I've been thinking about you.

It was from Jack.

* * *

Josephine froze. It'd been a long time since she thought she could see Annabelle's blond head on the private beach, where whatever nanny they had on staff used to take the children, but she thought she saw it now. Her breath caught and her chest tightened as she stepped onto the patio outside her bedroom for a better glimpse.

There was nothing there. No people. No children. But she could've sworn...

No, that was crazy. Impossible. It was just that Pippa had mentioned her the other night. At odd moments, Josephine was tempted to come forward, to tell the whole sordid story. But that was a reckless impulse. One she always managed to quell.

She stood at the railing, watching the sandpipers swoop down on the sand crabs and couldn't look away even when the wind pressed her thin robe to her body, mussing her hair. She half expected to see Malcolm walking around the point where the rocks jutted out into the sea, carrying Annabelle in his arms.

He'd loved Bella so much—which made it such a mystery why Josephine never could.

“Mrs. Lazarow?”

Pippa stood at her bedroom door. Forcing herself to turn away from that lonely stretch of beach, she went back inside to see what her housekeeper wanted.

* * *

It was two days later and, except for knowing that he now had Maisey living next door, Rafe's life had returned to normal. Maisey was gone during the days. He was glad of that. He found it was easier to work when she wasn't a few minutes away. He knew she was gone because he passed her on the road every morning on his way back from dropping Laney off. She'd wave when she saw him, but he never bothered to respond. He was trying hard to put her out of his thoughts, to stop reliving that hour in his bed.

There were other women in the world, he told himself. But it wasn't that easy to meet them. He didn't date very often; he didn't like leaving his daughter with a sitter. Most people didn't know what she could and couldn't do, so they weren't comfortable taking care of her. And he was afraid they might not watch her carefully enough, or they wouldn't be as kind as they should be. He had his mother, but he didn't want to take advantage of her.

He was tearing out a wall Josephine Lazarow had decided she wanted moved—to open up the kitchen area of Unit 1—when he came across something wedged between the studs.

A metal box. As he pulled it out, his first thought was that Maisey's father might've stashed some money in his precious Smuggler's Cove development. Rafe couldn't think of a more likely explanation. Someone wouldn't go to so much effort to hide something unless it had great value. But it wasn't cash. Once he opened it, he found...pictures.

* * *

Maisey never answered Jack's text. She did, however, take her phone out every once in a while to reread what he'd sent her. Considering how easily he'd moved on, his entreaties were sort of...gratifying. No woman wanted to be so forgettable.

Or was he regretting what he'd done simply because he didn't have anyone else at the moment? He hadn't expressed any second thoughts when he was with Heather...

Nancy came up behind her while she was staring down at her screen, wondering if she should text something back to her ex.

“Any word from Keith?”

Maisey slipped her phone into her pocket. “No. 'Fraid not.”

“He really should call you,” Nancy said.

Maisey might've let that comment go. It was true. Keith
should
call her. But Nancy seemed to have more of a personal stake in the situation than Maisey would've expected. She also seemed to know Keith well enough to be assertive in her disapproval, which seemed...odd.

After adding the cardholder to the flower arrangement she'd just finished, Maisey confronted her new boss. “Has my brother called
you
?”

Nancy's face flushed beet-red. She began to deny that she'd had any contact with Keith, but then sighed. “Shoot. I can't lie. I'm terrible at it. And it's harder with you. Here you've been going the extra mile to help me every day, and...”

“And?”
Maisey wasn't pleased that Nancy seemed to know more about Keith's well-being than she did. Why would he let his own sister worry? He was an adult; he had the right to live as he chose, even if it wasn't good for him. But to take off with no word after a fairly recent attempt at suicide? To make her fear for his well-being day and night, on top of everything else she was dealing with?

“He's okay,” Nancy admitted. “That's what I felt I should tell you. I—I heard from him a couple of days ago. He's fine.”

Maisey was too angry to be relieved. Wasn't this just like her brother? How could she have trusted him enough to move home? “Where is he?”

“Not on the island.”

That was cryptic. Nancy's loyalty was coming into play—fueled by her infatuation. Maisey had sensed her interest the day she started at Love's in Bloom. “It's not like I'm going to chase him down, Nancy.”

“I
can't
be any more specific than that. I don't know exactly where he is. All I know is that he asked me to wire him some money not too long after he left, and then again yesterday, on my lunch hour.”

“And you did it?”

Nancy spread out her hands. “I had to. I couldn't say no. I was afraid of what might happen to him. He didn't have five bucks to his name, couldn't even grab a bite to eat.”

Or line up his next fix. How many times had he led others down the same road? Why did Nancy think all his friends eventually abandoned him?

Dropping her head in her hand, Maisey kneaded her forehead. “Have you been sleeping with him?”

Dead silence. Obviously, Nancy hadn't expected her to be so forthright.

Maisey didn't insist on a reply. “I'm not going to mention a word of this to my mother,” she went on. “I just... I feel I should warn you. You're aware that my brother has serious problems, right? That he's a drug addict?”

Nancy twisted the charm bracelet she was wearing. “He says he's been clean since he got out of rehab.”

Maisey hated that she had to have this conversation, but she didn't think it was fair for someone as innocent as Nancy to become mixed up in his problems. “I hope that's true. I don't actually know. But I do know that he'll say whatever he needs to in order to get what he wants.”