The Queensbay Series: Books 1-4: The Queensbay Box Set

by Drea Stein

  “I remember your mother, too.” Definitely not a good thing, Caitlyn thought and waited. There was no mention of her father; no one remembered him, not even Caitlyn, who dutifully sent him a card each Christmas. He was an alcoholic drifter who lived on a boat in the Caribbean. The marriage to Serena, Caitlyn’s mother, had been just long enough to give Caitlyn legitimacy, which her grandfather then decided to question by having her name changed back to Montgomery.

  “I wanted to speak to you, dear. Maxwell wouldn’t listen to me, said I was being daft. But you’ll listen. Adriana said you would.”

  Caitlyn stiffened. She didn’t know what the woman was talking about, but if Adriana Randolph was involved, it couldn’t be a good thing. But a client was a client.

  “Of course I’ll listen. What can I do for you?” Caitlyn pitched her voice low, soothing, inviting confidence.

  “There is something wrong with my account. I tried to get money, and they said it wasn’t there. But then it was, and everything was fine.”

  Caitlyn smiled, her mouth going dry at what the woman was saying.

  “Your bank account?” She forced her voice to stay calm.

  “No, the firm account.”

  “I’m sure it was nothing.” Caitlyn looked up. There was a noise, a commotion towards the other end of the long room, and she tensed before she realized it was just too-loud laughter.

  The woman fixed her watery gaze on her. “I want to show you something.”

  “I’m not sure now is the best time,” Caitlyn said, her eyes scanning the room. She saw Noah standing in the corner. Their eyes caught, and he raised his glass to her in a mock salute. She tried to ignore the queer little flip-flop her stomach did and turned her attention back to the woman tugging at her sleeve.

  “Well, if not now, when?” The woman looked up at her, and Caitlyn struggled to remember her name – Sullivan-Smith, that was it.

  “Mrs. Sullivan-Smith,” Caitlyn began, but was interrupted.

  “It’s Smith-Sullivan, and I don’t know why I bother. I went to Maxwell, and he gave me the same run-around. Well, let me tell you—”

  “Tomorrow? I do want to talk to you.” Caitlyn looked at the other woman and offered what she hoped was a friendly smile and a reassuring squeeze of her arm. “Call my office, and we’ll set up a time to meet.” Caitlyn dug into the pocket of her jacket, pulled out her business card and handed it to the woman.

  “Hrmph.” The woman made a sound, which Caitlyn guessed was one of appeasement. “Very well.”

  A waiter came by, and Caitlyn lifted a glass off the tray and handed it to Mrs. Smith-Sullivan. “Thank you so much for paying your respects; I know Noah appreciates it.”

  Mrs. Smith-Sullivan looked over in his direction. “Didn’t turn out so bad after all. Must take after his mother’s side. If I were you, I wouldn’t let that one get away again.”

  Caitlyn didn’t know quite how to respond. Oh, she had thought they were being discreet about their relationship, but apparently not discreet enough. Quite a lot of Queensbay remembered that summer.

  “I don’t know what you mean.” Caitlyn decided ignorance was her best course.

  “Oh please, the looks you keep shooting at each other could write a book. You should just go over and talk to him.” Mrs. Smith-Sullivan took a sip of her drink and smiled. “And if I were forty years younger…”

  “Things are just a little more complicated than that,” Caitlyn said, ignoring the way her skin prickled as she knew Noah was still watching her, his eyes burning across the room, finding her, following her. She felt too warm here, and knew that coming had been a mistake. She needed to keep her distance from Noah Randall if she hoped to not make a fool of herself.

  She set her drink down on a small side table and found the door. “Excuse me; I need to get some air.”

  “Suit yourself,” Mrs. Smith-Sullivan said.

  Chapter 6

  Noah stood in the corner, in his father’s house, nursing his drink. He had made it through the funeral, and now here he was, back at the house, surrounded by people he did not know, a stranger in his home.

  But Caitlyn moved through the crowd as if she belonged, the right mix of sympathy and assurance. What was she doing here? What had his father been thinking? People were circling him, not sure whether to talk to him or leave him alone. He kept the scowl plastered on his face, hoping that would keep some of the insincere well-wishers away.

  He followed her with his eyes until she looked his way. She glanced away, and he was satisfied. She couldn’t stand to look at him, not after what had happened. What had happened? He had wanted her, and she had said no, she couldn’t, didn’t want to be with him. Simple as that. His pride had been hurt, and he had called her a tease – a mean thing to do. She’d told him he was being a fool, being reckless. He’d ignored her. They’d both been right, hadn’t they, all those years ago?

  He saw her put her drink down, eyes darting around the room, and he knew she was going to leave. Before he had a chance to think, he was after her, his long strides overtaking her. He caught her arm just as she was about to leave the room and spun her around so she faced him.

  Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were bright, her hands clutched tightly together. She looked beautiful.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “Out. I need some air.” Her breath was coming in short little bursts, and she glanced down at the hand he had wrapped around her arm. Caitlyn’s eyes flicked up to meet his, and he saw something, not quite anger, but nervousness, fear in her eyes.

  “You look upset,” he said, dropping his hand from her arm and noting how some of her tenseness seemed to leave her.

  “So do you,” she countered quickly. He looked at her more closely. Her face was drawn tight, and there was sadness in her eyes, a sadness he remembered well.

  “You really are upset, aren’t you?”

  She gave a small laugh, and he thought he saw her eyes glisten. “Of course I am. He’s dead. And I’m upset. Because I cared for him. And maybe you didn’t, so maybe this doesn’t bother you.”

  Noah felt the anger and the sadness well up in him. “He was my father. Of course I care.”

  “You haven’t seen him in ten years. You broke his heart, Noah,” she said softly.

  He saw red then, almost felt the need to shout. They were drawing attention to themselves; he could feel that every eye was on them. All of a sudden, there was someone next to him, holding his arm.

  “Why don’t we go outside, get some fresh air?” The voice was smooth, but the hand on his arm was strong. Noah looked over and almost sagged with relief.

  “Chase.”

  “Sorry, buddy, I was in Europe. I flew home as soon as I could.”

  “I’ll go now,” Caitlyn said. Noah looked at her. Her tears were threatening to overwhelm her; he could see that now.

  He almost told her not to, but Chase got in his way, and he saw Caitlyn go.

  Chapter 7

  Chase had taken him outside to get some fresh air – and to keep them away from prying eyes.

  “Were you two going to get into it right there?” Chase had found them coffee, which Noah found was going down a lot better than the whisky had.

  “Did you know she was back?” Noah asked.

  Chase Sanders, his oldest friend, looked at him. “Sure, I knew she was back. I live here, she lives here, and we run into each other.”

  Noah took a sip of his coffee. They were in the back of the house, overlooking the water, on a sheltered part of the terrace. Most of the mourners had left, and the catering crew was cleaning everything up.

  “You’re not…?” he found himself asking; he had to know.

  Chase looked at him, his brows drawn together. “What? You mean, me and Caitlyn?”

  “Yeah, you’re not, you know, together, since you didn’t bother to tell me she was here.” Noah tried to keep the jealous note from his voice, but knew he was failing.

  “No,
we’re not together. Though I did buy her a sandwich her first week in town. But we see each other around, say hi. That’s it,” Chase said.

  “So why didn’t you tell me she was here?” Noah asked, suddenly needing to know why everyone had wanted to keep that a secret.

  “Because I know how you feel about her. Besides, I didn’t think you were ever coming back here, so I didn’t think it would ever come up.”

  Noah looked at his friend. Chase had been a champion sailor, and he knew something about keeping a strategy to himself. Still, he had the grace to squirm.

  “Look, you’re not rational about her. Remember when you found out she was engaged? It took me a week to pull you out of that one. I was waiting for the right time to break it to you.”

  “It’s been months,” Noah pointed out. It was warmer today, and in the sunshine it almost felt like the sun he was used to back in California.

  “Like I said, I was working up to it. And anyway, your dad seemed happy about it.”

  Noah looked at his friend. “Happy?”

  “Yeah. Look, your dad and I weren’t buddy-buddy either, but he seemed pleased when Caitlyn showed up. Kept bringing her places, introducing her around as an old friend of the family.”

  “If he was so over the moon, why was he drinking so much?” Noah asked. And why had he been so desperate for cash?

  Chase shook his head. “I don’t know, but that had been happening for a while before she showed up. If anything, her appearance slowed him down for a bit.”

  Noah put his coffee down on the edge of the railing and scrubbed his hands through his hair. Just what had been going on?

  “Do you know why she came back?” he asked.

  “I heard from some friends in London, you know, through the grapevine, that it was because her engagement busted up. The guy was a real asshole, from what I saw, and there wasn’t room in the same city for the two of them.”

  “Did he hurt her?” Noah asked, feeling his chest tighten, thinking about the way she had looked at him when he had grabbed her arm.

  “Down, boy. Honestly, I don’t know. The guy had a temper, I did hear that, but the details of what happened, well, those were pretty hush-hush. I think you should ask her if you’re interested,” Chase said, a knowing smile playing across his lips.

  “Why would she come back here?” Noah asked.

  “Because it’s a nice place. And it’s her home,” Chase said lightly. He took a sip of coffee, and they both stared out onto the harbor, taking in how the sun was almost fully set, the way the last colors of fall clung to the trees, and the lone motorboat making its way in from the Sound to the safety of the harbor.

  “Home,” Noah said, not sure he knew the meaning of the word anymore.

  Chapter 8

  Caitlyn looked out of the window of her study. It was the coziest room in the house, and she had indulged, building a small fire. The firm had been closed today, in honor of Maxwell’s funeral, and though she had her laptop open and was trying to do some work, she couldn’t quite focus. She had poured herself a glass of wine and tried to interest herself in a bowl of soup, but she couldn’t muster up the appetite. She had her lucky poker chip out, turning it over and over in the palm of her hand while she thought. Or tried not to.

  Thank goodness for Chase. He had saved her and Noah from going at it. Caitlyn had promised not to get personal with Noah, not to tell him how much his father had missed him. It would only make Noah feel guilty for something he couldn’t change. And she knew how that felt. Guilt for what couldn’t be undone. She had felt so guilty after her grandfather’s death, she hadn’t known which way was up. And she had pushed Noah away, out of anger, anger at herself. But he had left. He hadn’t stayed and fought for her. And that had hurt, too.

  But now he was back. Seeing him in the flesh, instead of in news articles and Internet stories, only made those memories come roaring back.

  Summertime, after the Fourth of July fireworks down at the yacht club. They had slipped away, down to the docks where the club’s racing fleet was. They had sheltered under one of the overturned boats, and he had kissed her. Softly at first, then more insistently. She had wanted it, and then had been afraid, nervous, not sure what she was getting into. Her body had said one thing but her mind another. She’d been eighteen, heading off to college, and he’d been between his junior and senior years. They’d been three years apart in school, and he’d never really taken any notice of her before that summer. And she had been so flattered that Noah Randall, the god of Queensbay, would take notice of her, an almost college freshman.

  She hadn’t wanted to disappoint him, but she had thought then that sex only led to bad outcomes. Her mother had certainly drilled that into her, one of those bad outcomes being an unwanted pregnancy that you were forced to keep. That had been Caitlyn. The other was watching her mother make a fool of herself for one man after another, always giving herself away but never getting much in return.

  Not to mention that her grandfather had been almost as adamant about staying away from Noah. She’d never been sure if it had been Noah in particular or boys in general that her grandfather was against. But somehow the fact that it was Noah who had come to pick her up for a date seemed to send him over the edge. And so they had been forced to sneak around, and it had made it that much more exciting.

  She had wanted Noah to like her, and he had been patient with her, eager but understanding, only asking that she consider it. And so that night, she had let him go further than ever before, letting him touch her, making her feel things. And then he had stopped. And kissed her gently and told her that there would be tomorrow. That there would always be tomorrow. Noah had made her feel safe and loved, and she knew that if he had asked her again, right then and there, she would have said yes.

  The summer had continued like that, all push and pull, full of firsts. Sure, she had kissed a boy before, but it wasn’t like it was with Noah. His kisses made her head swim and her heart beat furiously, and all she wanted to do was to be with him, every moment of the day.

  And then it had all come crashing to an end. Summer love wasn’t meant to last. It filled her head like a song, and she took another sip of her wine, trying to drown out the memories. Being in the same room with him, even one filled with people, even knowing Maxwell was dead, had done nothing to quell her feelings for Noah. He still made her light-headed and her heart beat too fast. But now it also ached, knowing what he had lost, knowing that feeling all too well.

  Finally the tears came, and Caitlyn let them silently stream down. She was crying for Maxwell, for Noah, for her grandfather, all that she had lost. She fell asleep like that, curled up in a tight ball, a blanket pulled up over her, sinking into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  Chapter 9

  Noah Randall stood looking out the window at the view from the lawyer’s office. It was of the Queensbay marina, mostly empty at this time of year. The docks, which would be bustling in the summertime with boaters of all types, rolling coolers, stacking lines and tanking up, lay vacant, rocking up and down in the steady waves kicked up by a stiff breeze from the north.

  “So, that’s it?” he asked.

  Gary Burton nodded. “Yes. Your father left you the house, of course.”

  “How much is it worth?”

  Gary pushed back a bit from his desk and steepled his fingers together before replying. Noah waited.

  “That’s an interesting question.”

  “What does that mean?’ Noah covered the distance to the desk in two quick strides. Gary pushed back a bit, rearing back as if Noah were going to attack him.

  “Well, your father had a mortgage on the house.”

  “What?” Noah said. “But he bought the house outright when I was a kid.”

  “So he did. When times were good. But he’s routinely used it as collateral – it’s waterfront, you know, worth quite a bit. He’s had to raise money several times throughout the years, and he always used the house to guarantee the loan. Maxw
ell always paid it off, but I guess this time, he didn’t have a chance.”

  “Why?” Noah asked, sitting, looking interested. Maxwell had lived large, never giving any indication until recently that he needed money.

  Gary put his hands on the edge of the desk, grasping it as if for strength. “I don’t know why for certain.”

  “But could you make a guess?” Noah said.

  “Don’t take this the wrong way,” Gary began, “but your father wasn’t quite the financial genius he made himself out to be. Between you and me, even though everything always looked good on paper, ever since Lucas Montgomery died, Queensbay Capital seems to boom and bust. Somehow Maxwell always managed to pull it out of the bust, but I think his time was cut short. I believe he was using the equity from the house to cover some bad investments at the company.”

  Noah leaned back. “So, there’s no money, you’re telling me? After all those years, my father was, what – basically broke?” Noah let that sink in, and then said, “And that’s why he needed my money. Time finally caught up with him.” Noah almost laughed, but stopped himself.

  Gary cleared his throat. “Broke is a bit of an overstatement.” Noah looked at him levelly, and the lawyer swallowed. “Okay, so yes, your father was basically broke, personally.”

  “Oh, that’s rich. You know what he told me when I left for California to start TechSpace?”

  Gary shook his head.

  Noah did laugh then. “Said the Internet was a fad, good for nothing more than playing games and wasting time. Well, he was right about that. Just didn’t know people would pay good money for the chance to do that.” Noah took a deep breath. “Okay, so if I want to keep the house, I have to pay the bank. Done. But what about my newest investment? Do I have to go in and start firing people just to keep it afloat?”

  Gary shook his head. “There’s enough money to keep it going for a while. You don’t have to do anything just yet. Actually, the firm appears to be on an upswing again. Given some time, everything will probably play out just right.”