Second Chance with Her Billionaire

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Second Chance with Her Billionaire Page 6

by Therese Beharrie


  Trevor sighed. ‘Do you blame me for not wanting to relive the most shameful mistake in my past?’

  ‘Yes, I do. But wait—which mistake?’ she asked. ‘Sleeping with a woman who wasn’t your wife? Putting your business above your family? Or asking me to keep quiet about it? Doesn’t matter,’ she said over whatever he would have said. ‘I blame you for all of it.’

  She stopped walking, her feet digging into the sand. It was warm from the sun. Summer wished the heat could rise from her toes up, into her heart, so she wouldn’t feel so cold.

  ‘Are we done now?’ Summer asked, turning to face her father. He’d stopped walking, too. She ignored the pain on his face. The surprise.

  ‘I didn’t realise...’ He trailed off. ‘You think I put the business over our family?’

  She laughed, hard and harsh. ‘You’re not asking me that question because you want to know the answer. You already know it’s true.’

  He didn’t reply.

  She laughed again. ‘Of course you know it’s true. Because you remember what you said to me when I found out about the affair.’ His eyes widened; he did. She would force him to hear it anyway. ‘You told me you didn’t want to focus on a personal issue like this when you had a business deal to concentrate on.’ She paused. ‘But, please, Dad, tell me how that makes me more important than work? Or Mom and Autumn, for that matter?’

  Again, there was silence.

  ‘Are you regretting telling Autumn you’d like to see the real me now?’

  ‘Summer,’ he said slowly. ‘I didn’t think... I didn’t know...’ He took a breath. ‘I told you I was sorry—’

  ‘No,’ Summer interrupted, her eyes suddenly feeling hot. ‘You actually haven’t.’

  Her father blinked. ‘No, Sun, I... I did.’

  ‘Don’t call me that,’ Summer said immediately, the heat prickling and her throat thickening again.

  At what her father had said. At what she’d said. At the fact that she didn’t mean it. Not really. Not when something inside her had turned at the name she hadn’t heard come from his lips in over eight years.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said hoarsely. ‘About everything.’

  She stared at him, and a part of her wished she could accept the apology. But she couldn’t. Not when he thought an apology like that was adequate.

  Not when she doubted he knew what he was apologising for.

  ‘The worst part is that you don’t see why I can’t move past it,’ she told him, her voice breaking. ‘You think it’s because I can’t get over the affair. But it’s because I can’t get over you asking me not to turn to the people I love after finding out. You pushed me to the outside of the family, Dad. Now you’re wondering why I can’t just step back in.’ She swallowed. ‘There are a lot of barriers keeping me from doing that. You built most of them.’

  She took a deep breath.

  ‘I’ll see you at the boat,’ she said. ‘Don’t worry. No one will suspect a thing.’

  She turned and headed back for the lodge.

  * * *

  He hadn’t meant to spy. That was what it was called, right? Watching people without hearing their words?

  Though in all honesty, Wyatt didn’t need to hear the words to know what was happening. From his position at the top of the pathway that led to the beach, he could see the tight hold of Trevor’s shoulders; the angry expression on Summer’s face. The sadness there, too, Wyatt thought. The hurt.

  It hadn’t been his intention to spy. He’d only wanted to talk with Summer about the night before. She’d been late to breakfast, which had prevented him from speaking to her beforehand. He suspected that had been the reason for her tardiness. Then she’d rushed off so quickly afterwards that he’d had to run after her—only to see Trevor had got there first.

  He’d thought about waiting for them to be done before he’d been caught by the stiffness in Summer’s posture. He forgot about his own intentions and watched as they spoke. As they argued. There was definitely something going on between Summer and Trevor.

  He couldn’t dwell on it when Summer turned around and began walking back to the lodge. He immediately turned and walked to the rendezvous point for the lake cruise, not willing to be caught in the act. He made it there earlier than the rest of the guests, and spent his entire time waiting wondering what the hell he’d just seen.

  It was a refreshing difference from the thoughts that had kept him up the night before. Or was it the effort not to think about those thoughts that had kept him up? Probably both. Either way, this was much more interesting than the dark pits of his feelings about his mother. About his longing for his ex-wife.

  Not that thinking about Trevor and Summer helped him figure out what was happening between them.

  Summer’s behaviour towards her father now was starkly different from when they’d been married. Or was it? Thinking back now, he couldn’t remember too many occasions where he’d seen Summer and Trevor interact. When they had, he couldn’t remember those interactions being anything other than respectful.

  He hadn’t paid that much attention to it, if he was being honest. A lot of the time his thoughts had been on work.

  Because you know I was only taking my cue from you. Working hard. Focusing on building a name for myself.

  Summer’s words bounced into his mind, dribbling there until he paid attention to why he remembered them. Was it possible he’d missed something because of his work? Had he been so involved he hadn’t noticed Summer didn’t have a good relationship with her father, even then?

  He dismissed the thought instantly. The Bishops didn’t have bad relationships with one another. They were stable. They made jokes. Showed affection. None of that said bad relationship. And he would know. He had as bad a relationship with his family as they came. Besides, he’d been a part of the Bishop family. Whatever had happened must have been after his and Summer’s divorce.

  Or were you so enthralled by the idea of the Bishops that you didn’t see the reality?

  Lynette joined him then, smiling brightly when she saw him waiting, and he couldn’t think about the answer.

  But the question lingered.

  ‘Bless you for being here before me, Wyatt.’

  Wyatt tilted his head. ‘You’re...welcome?’

  Lynette laughed. ‘It makes me feel less embarrassed about how excited I’ve been feeling about this weekend. If you’re here before me, you must be enthusiastic?’

  Wyatt smiled. ‘You have nothing to be embarrassed about, Mrs Bishop. I think it’s nice that you and Trevor are still so in love.’

  Something on Lynette’s face tightened, then softened. ‘We’ve been through enough to know what’s important.’ Her gaze sharpened on his. ‘Do you?’

  Wyatt didn’t get the chance to answer when Lynette’s friend joined them. Lynette gave him a nod and began to talk about the cruise, leaving Wyatt to figure out—again—what had happened.

  He thought about what he would have answered if he’d had to. Yes, he knew? Stability, security. Happiness, love. Lynette might have been happy with that answer. For some reason, he was not.

  Because he’d tried it? Followed the example of the man who had it all and he’d failed?

  But he hadn’t failed. He just hadn’t been good enough for the woman he’d thought he could find those things with.

  He stopped himself. That line of thought was about as productive as what he’d been thinking about—or trying not to think about—the night before.

  As if you weren’t thinking about Summer last night, too.

  The image of her in that loose nightshirt, the flimsy jersey over it, flashed through his mind. He tried to shake it off. It was successful only because she arrived then, in a bright dress that reminded him of the very season she was named after.

  Her eyes fluttered over to him, and she gave him a slight nod. A
surprise, considering how she’d avoided looking at him that morning at breakfast. Except for that one moment, which seemed similar to how she was looking to him now. As if she needed to. As if it...steadied her.

  She stayed towards the back of the group, putting a solid distance between her and the rest of the guests. She had a large straw hat in one hand, which she clutched so tightly he thought she might break it. He walked over to her side, pretending not to hear her sharp exhalation when he stopped.

  ‘I take it you’re not looking forward to this?’

  ‘What?’ she asked, then gave him a smile so fake he expected it to appear on a plastic surgery TV show. ‘I’m excited to be here. I love cruises.’

  His lips spread as he listened to her. By the time she was done, he was chuckling.

  ‘Man, you hate this so much.’

  She gave him a look, before letting out a small laugh of defeat. ‘Is it that obvious?’

  ‘You mean is your extremely poor acting revealing your displeasure? Yes,’ he informed her, without waiting for an answer. She looked up, shook her shoulders.

  ‘Okay. Okay,’ she said again. Then she hung her head before looking at him in sorrow. ‘I will pay whatever amount it takes for you to distract me for the rest of the day.’

  ‘You... Me...’

  He stopped making a fool of himself, took a breath and tried to process what she was asking.

  ‘Summer,’ he said slowly, ‘are you asking me to keep you company?’

  ‘Don’t make it sound like that,’ she said irritably. Which, frankly, made him feel a lot better than thinking his ex-wife had been kidnapped by aliens. This was much more...on brand for her than asking something from him.

  ‘I’m surprised.’

  ‘Exactly. That’s what you’re making it sound like.’

  ‘Because it’s the truth,’ he exclaimed and she swatted his arm with her hat.

  ‘Keep your voice down,’ she said in a low voice. ‘I don’t want the world to know I’m asking you a favour.’

  ‘You’re asking me a favour?’

  Something remarkably like a moan slipped from her lips. She straightened her shoulders and looked him dead in the eye.

  ‘I understand your surprise. Plus, you’re correct; those words would never have left my lips if my sister was here.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Unfortunately, she isn’t, and I cannot, for the life of me, pretend to be excited to attend a cruise with a bunch of people I don’t particularly care for.’

  She’d said all those words while exhaling, and was now taking another deep breath.

  Wyatt braced himself for more.

  ‘You’re the only person I know here. Or I’m comfortable with.’ She pulled a face. ‘Relatively,’ she added, before letting out a huff of air. ‘It’s not ideal, I know, but, for one day, can we set the stuff between us aside and be friends?’

  She blinked—once, twice, three times—and opened her mouth. Closed it. Then met his gaze.

  She was the one who looked surprised now. As if she had no idea what had come out of her mouth. As if she didn’t recognise herself in what she’d asked him.

  He felt the corners of his mouth tug up, and the What the hell is happening? feeling he’d had faded behind something more intense. Something that straightened out the bumps of hurt and anger that had initially kept him from saying yes.

  Affection. And the desire to give her whatever she wanted.

  Not that he’d make it easy for her.

  ‘What is happening,’ he said deliberately, ‘is called humility.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘It’s this thing that allows you to ask other people for stuff, and not depend only on yourself.’

  ‘Wyatt,’ she said after a moment, ‘are you really using this as an opportunity to teach me a moral lesson?’

  ‘Hey—’ he lifted his hands ‘—this isn’t the kind of moment that comes around every day. I have to capitalise on it.’

  She stared at him, slowing moving her head from side to side, though he didn’t think she knew she was doing it.

  ‘This is what I get for asking you for help,’ she muttered.

  He didn’t resist the smile. ‘It is.’

  She glowered at him. ‘You’re not even telling me whether you’re going to help me.’

  ‘You still want me to?’ he asked innocently. ‘After what you just went through?’

  ‘Wyatt,’ she said, in what was definitely a moan. ‘They’re beginning to climb on the boat. If you don’t give me an answer, I’m going to have to sit with someone I don’t know and...’ her voice dropped ‘...socialise.’

  He laughed again, and a voice in his head told him to enjoy the feeling while he could. It probably wouldn’t last long. Which gave him an idea.

  ‘Fine, I’ll do it.’

  She brightened. ‘Thank—’

  ‘On one condition.’

  What?’ she asked flatly.

  ‘I get to ask you one question.’

  ‘What kind of question?’ Her expression had gone careful, and now the voice in his head was telling him he was messing with things he shouldn’t be messing with.

  ‘Any question.’ He lifted a hand before she could protest. ‘Those are my terms.’

  ‘Wyatt? Summer?’

  They both turned their heads. For the first time, Wyatt saw that they were the only guests not on the boat. He also saw the interested expression on Lynette’s face; the unreadable one on Trevor’s, who stood just behind his wife.

  ‘Are you two coming?’ Lynette asked.

  They looked at each other, and Summer sucked in her lip. What felt like an eternity later, she nodded.

  ‘Deal.’

  CHAPTER SIX

  SUMMER DIDN’T KNOW what had come over her. Her first answer was desperation. It rang true, and louder, than any of the others, and she went with it. Which, all things considered, was a relief. She didn’t want to think about the other reasons she might have asked Wyatt to be her friend.

  Her friend. Oh, the sound of it made her cringe. But she’d been on a roll, and she hadn’t paused to think about what she was saying. If she had, she wouldn’t have done it. And he hadn’t interrupted her—which made her wonder if he was giving her the opportunity to embarrass herself—so she’d kept talking and now she was sitting next to him on a boat.

  It was actually nice. The boat had seats along its edge, with about ten more in pairs of two down the middle, separated by a bar. It seated all thirty of the guests—thirty-two, including her parents—comfortably, and the crew of three were in a small cabin enclosed by glass towards the back of the boat. She and Wyatt sat near the cabin.

  Part of the deal, she thought, and relief flowed through her. She’d dreaded the socialising this weekend would include. The pretence, too. After speaking with her father, those feelings sat like stale bread in the pit of her stomach. And she’d sought comfort from the first person who’d come to mind when she thought she needed to be comforted.

  She didn’t dwell on that.

  The point was, she didn’t feel like being nice to people. She’d have to be nicer than usual, too, to prove to her father she could pretend everything was okay. So the desperation at turning to her ex-husband had been a reasonable kind. The fact that he’d said yes, though, was...interesting.

  It wasn’t new. The night they’d met at the Christmas party he’d helped her go into that room of people she didn’t care about and pretend to be a happy family. Of course, she’d still had to go into the room and pretend, but Wyatt had made it easier.

  When he’d asked her later why she hadn’t been herself, she’d been stunned. No one she’d only just met knew she wasn’t being herself. They almost always thought she was just the cool, aloof sister. The distant heiress to Autumn’s warm persona. She’d played the role so well
even her family believed it.

  Wyatt seeing through her had felt significant in a way she couldn’t understand then. But she’d felt understood. Which almost made up for all the times after when he’d let her down.

  She’d asked him more times than she cared to admit to help her deal with social situations. Family obligations. Work meetings. He’d always say yes, and he’d keep his word...if it pertained to those family obligations. When it didn’t, like clockwork, he’d call the afternoon of the event and cancel. Something important had come up at work, he’d always say. She didn’t even think he realised it. But she had. And she’d learnt to stop relying on him.

  Which meant his transition into her father had been like clockwork, too.

  So the fact that she was sitting next to him now was so strange. It did feel as if he was the old Wyatt. The man she’d met that first night. Shaking her head—it was best not to go down that road—she stared out at the long reeds running along the river the boat was cruising down.

  Beyond the reeds were hills of varying heights, covered in large part by bushes and the occasional tree. Every now and then, Summer would spy a house between the bushes; or at the top of the hills, though those were predominant and huge, with large windows and balconies to take full advantage of the view.

  Though it was hot, the movement of the boat brought a welcoming breeze that cooled the sting of the sun. Laughter floated from the front of the boat down to them, light chattering adding to the ambience.

  Summer closed her eyes, tilting her head up, and enjoyed the moment.

  She had no idea when the last time was that she’d had one of these moments. Where it felt as if the world had slowed down and her mind stilled because of it. She’d spent the last six years building her own business. Making it a success had felt like a necessity after she’d given up the position waiting for her at Bishop Enterprises.

  She’d been studying Finance when she’d found out about her father’s affair, a degree she and Trevor had agreed would make her an asset to the company. After everything had happened, though, working for her father had seemed like a cruel joke. So she’d done her research and added Portfolio Management to her degree. Owning her own brokerage had seemed like a decent career change. But if she was honest, she hated that she wasn’t working for the company that bore her name.

 

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