And Then There Was You (Serenity House Book 2)

by Molly O'Keefe

  “Suddenly you’re a philanthropist?”

  Ian ignored the jibe. “And I’ll be using that foundation to help literacy as Mom intended, but I’ll be giving a lot of money to women’s shelters.”

  There was a long pause and Ian, for the first time in his life, realized he had all the power. Right now. This moment. The power was his.

  “She’d like that,” Jackson said quietly. “She would… approve.”

  “Damn right she would,” Ian said, refusing to be touched by the old man’s concession. “But you’re out, Dad. You’re not on the board, you’re not an advisor, nothing.”

  “Or what?”

  “Or I will give this story back to Jennifer Stern and she will destroy you.”

  “Blackmail?”

  “Learned from the best, Dad.”

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

  “I told you—”

  “About your life?” Jackson asked. “More actresses?”

  Jennifer’s lithe, strong body, her passion that infused everything she did, the way her hair slipped out of those intricate knots she tried to keep it in, came to him.

  “It’s none of your business,” he said. Something thick and bitter stuck in the back of his throat and he needed to get off the phone. “I’ll fax over papers today and I’ll expect them signed and returned to me by week’s end.”

  “And then?”

  Ian blinked and sat up, wondering if his father was asking about them, about what would happen between father and son. As if this cease-fire might give them a chance to have something even resembling normalcy? Ian couldn’t imagine, frankly couldn’t even stomach the idea. But he could imagine Jennifer over his shoulder, telling him to keep an open mind, to see where his father was going with this.

  “The story, those journals?” Jackson said, true to character to the very last and making Ian feel a fool for thinking his father would ever be different. “What happens to them?”

  “I get the papers and you stay out of my way and the story and journals won’t see the light of day.”

  “All right,” Jackson said. “It’s a deal.”

  A deal, Ian thought, shaking his head. Not even bothering to feel sad or angry, just glad that he was getting this cancer, this toxin, out of his life. Finally.

  He hung up, pressing the phone down as hard as he could in the cradle.

  Over. Finally. Over.

  The muscles all over his back twitched and he stood, shaking his hands as adrenaline tripped through his system. He needed to jog. Run.

  He stepped to the window, yanking open the curtains. Sunlight bathed him.

  Like Andille said, there was always a choice and he was making a choice right now to let go of the past.

  He closed his eyes, letting the sunlight warm his face, sift right through his body, burn away everything that was too heavy to keep carrying. He felt himself change. Those things he’d carried for so long, the baggage that kept him from Jennifer, were gone.

  The air he breathed was cleaner, the clothes on his back were lighter. The thoughts in his head…all about Jennifer.

  His eyes popped open. Jennifer, his heart sighed. Suddenly his house was too small and North Carolina too far away.

  “Hey, Mom, there you are again,” Spence said, pointing at yet another picture of her in the tabloids at the checkout aisle in the grocery store. It had been a week and Ian hadn’t been in a single picture. It was like he’d dropped off the face of the earth. She, on the other hand, had to fight off the photographers to leave her house here in Asheville.

  She didn’t understand this new life he’d left her with. And she had the terrible feeling that even if she wasn’t on the cover of newspapers and being stalked by paparazzi, she’d still be lost.

  She missed him. She wondered how he was. If he’d read the journals, dealt with his father, his mother. If he was finding peace at all.

  And then she was pissed with herself for caring.

  But he hasn’t told the tabloids, a little voice in the back of her head whispered. What does that mean?

  She realized she could spend the rest of her life unraveling the mystery that was Ian Greer, but he’d left. And she needed to move on.

  “Can we get it?” Spence asked, while she threw a can of chickpeas onto the conveyor belt harder than was totally necessary. For crying out loud, her son was wearing sunglasses and a ball cap like some kind of convict on the run. “Mom?”

  “No, honey,” she snapped. “We cannot get The Enquirer.”

  “But—”

  “No, buts, Spence. We’re—” Her cell phone rang, cutting off her irrational tirade. She blew out a long breath. This situation was getting the better of her in every possible way. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.”

  He shrugged. “I just think it’s cool,” he said.

  Of course he did. He was eleven. He was on the cover of The Enquirer.

  Her cell rang again and she dug through her purse, answering it while still putting groceries on the conveyor.

  “Jennifer?” Waldo’s familiar bark was a surprise.

  “Waldo?” Jennifer asked. “Is there a problem with the file I sent you?”

  “No problem,” Kerry said, sounding distracted. “Look, can you get to Serenity this weekend?”

  “It’s Saturday.” Already the weekend.

  “Right, can you get there later?” she asked. “Today?”

  Jennifer considered the paparazzi outside of her house and decided a few days away from them would do her and Spence some good.

  “I guess, why? What’s up?”

  “Story” was all she said. “Big. The person I need you to interview lives near there. We’ve got a crew heading down there now.”

  “Can you give me a name? A hook?”

  “Well, it’s no presidential abuse scandal.”

  Jennifer rolled her eyes. Every conversation with Waldo had some dig about the story that wasn’t. Jennifer had apologized so many times, in so many ways, there was nothing left for her to do but ignore it.

  “But we’ve got a victim of abuse and a man with a lot of money to spend, that’s all I know. Check in when you get there. And Jen?” Something shifted in Waldo’s voice. “In advance, I’m sorry. Or, you’re welcome, however it pans out.”

  Waldo hung up and Jennifer stared at her phone. She was sorry if the story was a dud, or a blind alley. Which, chances were, it was.

  But, even if that were the case, the trip would not be in vain. It would be good to see Deb, and J.D. and Sam, now that they were back. And perhaps Andille would have talked to Ian. Not that she’d ask him, but if Andille offered some kind of information, that would be okay.

  “We’re not going to get those,” Jennifer said, stopping the clerk from scanning the Popsicles.

  It was a long drive to Northwoods.

  20

  They arrived at dusk, fireflies illuminating the low grasses in the twilight. Jennifer was surprised she’d missed Serenity so much. Shonny burst out the back door, Andille not far behind him.

  Her heart spasmed at the sight of the man since all he reminded her of was Ian. “Hi,” she said, unfolding from her car and immediately getting wrapped up in Andille’s strong arms.

  The man was nearly unrecognizable. The joy that lifted off him replaced all that weariness, illuminated his eyes, his skin, his smile. She leaned back. “You seem happy.” Understatement of the day.

  He considered her face and she was simply too tired to try and hide all her grief and anger. “You do not,” he whispered.

  “I’ll get over it,” she said with a halfhearted shrug.

  He hummed low in his throat then grunted as Spence ran straight into him. “Hey! Dille!” he cried, passing the blue-and-red ball over to Andille. “I brought my soccer ball.”

  “Excellent,” Andille said, bouncing the ball up to his knee. “Let’s see if you’ve gotten better.”

  And the boys were off chasing the ball toward the yard.

&n
bsp; Jennifer grabbed her purse and headed for the open back door and this mysterious big story.

  Deb was in the kitchen, cutting vegetables for a salad, the plaster casts gone, replaced by flexible air casts.

  “Upstairs,” she said, gesturing with her sharp little paring knife. Deb always acted like no time had passed whenever they saw each other. A week, two days, three months, it didn’t matter—everyone just picked up where they left off with Deb.

  Another thing Jennifer loved about her.

  “Where’s the crew?” Jennifer asked, looking around for the equipment crews traveled with.

  “What crew?” Deb asked.

  At long last Jennifer’s instincts kicked in. This was beyond fishy. “What’s going on?” Jennifer asked.

  “Upstairs,” Deb said, turning back to her salad. “That’s all I’m going to say.”

  Jennifer threw her purse down on the table and headed for the steps. All the hair on her arms stood at rigid attention as she stomped upward, telling herself that the odds were highly against Ian being up there.

  She practically kicked open the door and there he was, blond and blue eyed, wearing jeans and a cautious smile. More handsome than she could stand. Her body lurched and reached for him, wanting him despite everything.

  “Hi,” he said.

  For a second her mind was a blank. Empty. Then her anger kicked in. He’d been pulling her strings ever since she met him and now he’d recruited her friends.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said, turning away for the stairs and outside and her car. There was no air to breathe in this place. No air when he stood so close. He sucked all of her will from her, every thought. And she knew if she was going to hold onto her anger, stand firm against the seductive charisma of Ian Greer, she had to get out of here.

  “Jennifer. Jennifer, stop, please.” His hand caught her elbow and she whirled, slapping at his hands, unable to stand the burn of his flesh against hers.

  “Is this a joke to you?” she cried. “My life, my career, is it just a game you can play whenever you want?”

  “No.” He honestly looked horrified. But the guy was a consummate actor, and she’d be a fool to believe him. “Not at all, Jennifer. I wanted…” He stopped, pulled in a deep breath. “I needed to see you and I knew if I called you, you wouldn’t talk to me.”

  “So, you pulled some strings and I came running.”

  “I didn’t think of it that way, Jennifer.”

  “Of course not,” she spat, so angry, so hurt, so half in love with the man that she couldn’t see straight. “You don’t think of anyone but yourself.”

  Tears burned in her eyes, tears she really didn’t want to shed in front of him, and she turned away, searching for composure.

  He circled her, standing in front of her with his hands out. “All I’ve been thinking about is you for the past week. You’ve been…haunting me.”

  “Good,” she muttered.

  “I didn’t spill the story,” he said.

  “I noticed.”

  “I read the journals.”

  Oh, she thought, don’t do this. Don’t make me care again. I can’t survive getting hurt by this guy again.

  “And I called my father,” he said, his voice so ravaged. “It’s over.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked, wiping at the tears that clung to her lashes.

  “I mean, I told him I would take over my mother’s foundation, without his involvement in any way, and I would never tell the truth about my parents.”

  “Blackmail?”

  He smile was so crooked, so endearing, that she just couldn’t stand it. “It needed to end,” he said. “It was killing me.”

  A different man stood in Ian’s place. Someone more careful, someone less frantic. Less angry. There was a stillness in him, an empty place where all that frenetic anger had been spinning.

  This was the man she’d seen in him. The man she’d hoped he’d become.

  “I’m glad,” she said honestly.

  “Me, too,” he whispered and she made the stupid mistake of looking into his eyes, being caught like a fly in a spiderweb by all she saw there. Regret, earnest compassion, worry, doubt.

  She’d never seen doubt before, not in him, and she knew everything about him was different. Suddenly the ground she stood on was not so stable anymore. Not so sure.

  Anger seemed stupid. The past a million miles away. Nothing mattered but what he was about to say.

  “You said you knew me,” he whispered and she couldn’t breathe, much less speak. “That I was a good man. Better than I thought I was.”

  She nodded, still unable to speak, cautious hope inflating her slowly.

  “I want a chance to be that man,” he said. “I want a chance to be your man.” The words melted her. Destroyed any lingering doubts. The tears slipped down her cheeks. “I know you don’t know me—I barely know myself. But I thought maybe we could try,” he said.

  It sounded so good, it sounded like exactly what her heart wanted.

  “Try?” she croaked.

  “I thought I could get to know you and Spence and you could get to know me. We could play soccer and go bowling and argue about how much pop Spence drinks. We could rent movies and sleep in on Sunday mornings. I could help out when you were on deadline and you could help me with the foundation and we could…” He shrugged, his smile brief and sharp, a spark in the center of the world. “Try.”

  “Try,” she whispered.

  “Unless—” He glanced at his hands, balled them into fists. “Unless I’ve ruined this, and I know there’s a good chance I have. I know I don’t deserve—”

  “Luckily,” she whispered, stepping closer, reaching for his fist, “you don’t get to decide what you deserve.” She wasn’t going to waste any more time. Not when happiness stood right here. Within reach. “I want to try,” she said, laughing slightly. She was queen of understatements today. “I really want to try.”

  He laughed gruffly, from the back of his throat, and she watched as tears filled his beautiful eyes. His beloved eyes. “Thank you,” he whispered and as she leaned up to kiss him, he met her halfway. “Thank you,” he whispered against her smile.

  Everything that stood between them—the story, the secrets, the past—all turned to dust and blew away, leaving only them and the bright clean vision of the future. Together.

  Epilogue

  “Defense, Spence!” Ian yelled from the sidelines and Spence heard him through the screams of the fans as if Ian were right in his ear. Practically in his head. Spence turned, positioning himself to guard the goal.

  “Watch ten, watch ten,” Ian yelled and Spence wiped sweat off his forehead, searching for…there he was. Ten was barreling down the sidelines. Baker wasn’t fast enough and ten cruised right past him, dekeing left around Max, leaving him in the dust.

  “You can do it!” Ian yelled and Spence realized it was just him and ten. Just him and ten and the state championship at stake.

  Ten leaned left and Spence nearly grinned. Nice try, he thought, sprinting right and sliding under the feet of the surprised ten as his toe clipped the ball, sending it back, away from the goal just as the buzzer rang.

  We won! Won!

  He laid on his back and realized how incredibly blue the sky was. How big the clouds. How bright the future. Then he was yanked to his feet.

  Max hugged him and Baker jumped on both of them. But Spence pushed past them, looking for Coach. Looking for Ian.

  And there he was, jogging out onto the field, his arms up in victory and his eyes right on Spence.

  “You did it!” Ian yelled, pointing right to him.

  Spence leaped up, nearly knocking the old man on the ground. But Ian was strong, and he grabbed Spence, swinging him around, like he used to when Spence was eleven.

  Spence was going on to college next year, on a partial soccer scholarship. And he knew it was because of Ian, who’d been coaching Spence’s high school team since Spence was a fres
hman.

  Mom and his six-year-old sister Katie came running out of the stands, followed by Andille and Deb and Shonny and he nearly started to cry. And then he did cry. He just let himself cry.

  “I’m so proud of you, son,” Ian whispered.

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  Thank you so much for reading AND THEN THERE WAS YOU! If you enjoyed it - I hope you’ll consider leaving a review!

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  Are you ready for more family secrets? Check out an excerpt from THE MCAVOY SISTER’S BOOK OF SECRETS.

  What drove their family apart just might bring them back together…

  It’s been seventeen years since the tragic summer the McAvoy sisters fell apart. Lindy, the wild one, left home, carved out a new life in the city and never looked back. Delia, the sister who stayed, became a mother herself, raising her daughters and running the family shop in their small Pennsylvania hometown on the shores of Lake Erie.

  But now, with their mother’s ailing health and a rebellious teenager to rein in, Delia has no choice but to welcome Lindy home. As the two sisters try to put their family back in order, they finally have the chance to reclaim what’s been lost over the years: for Delia, professional dreams and a happy marriage, and for Lindy, a sense of home and an old flame—and best of all, each other. But when one turbulent night leads to a shocking revelation, the women must face the past they’ve avoided for a decade. And there’s nothing like an old secret to bring the McAvoy women back together and stronger than ever.

  With warm affection and wry wit, Molly Fader’s The McAvoy Sisters Book of Secrets is about the ties that bind family and the power of secrets to hold us back or set us free.

  Ready for an excerpt?

  Turn the page for The McAvoy Sister’s Book Of Secrets

  21

  The McAvoy Sister’s Book of Secrets Excerpt