by Drea Stein
Darby snorted and said, “Caitlyn never loses.”
Adriana said, “Caitlyn was always an excellent card player. Poker, blackjack, hearts, even bridge. Her grandfather loved cards, chess, anything that stretched his brain and seemed like a game.”
“Is that who taught you?” Heather asked.
“Yes,” Caitlyn said, shuffling the deck. “My mother had no interest in cards, and when my grandfather saw that I did, he taught me everything. Adding stakes – even if they were only pretzels or chocolate chips – only made it more interesting to him.”
“Oh, the poker games he, Maxwell and Trip would have,” Adriana said, her eyes bright with memories. “They didn’t really like each other, but they all ran in the same circle, so a no-holds-barred poker match was really the only way for them to get at each other.”
“Did Caitlyn’s grandfather always win?” Heather asked, curiosity tingeing her voice. Caitlyn tried to shoot her a warning look, but Heather just raised one blonde eyebrow over a bright green eye and turned her attention back to Adriana.
“No, of course not. They were all good players. There were others that played, too, but really I think Maxwell, Lucas and Trip were the only ones who considered it a blood sport. Maxwell was reckless, a true gambler. He would sometimes be outrageously lucky and win huge, and other times he would lose all night. Lucas and Trip were more careful, considerate.” Adriana shook her heard. “It got worse once Trip suspected Lucas and I were having an affair.”
Caitlyn, who had just been taking a sip of her drink, choked and almost spit it out. She glanced over at Heather and Darby, who were both looking at Adriana, entranced. Marion threw Caitlyn a sympathetic smile, with a “what can you do about it” kind of look.
“You and Caitlyn’s grandfather?” Heather asked. Caitlyn focused on the large oil painting above the fireplace, a tasteful depiction of a three-masted, fully rigged ship riding the cresting waves. She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear this, but was fairly certain that Adriana meant for her to.
“Oh yes, I was his mistress. Trip was pretty dreadful and had cheated on me almost from the first. I didn’t, not until Lucas. I was good friends with Annabelle, his wife, Caitlyn’s grandmother, and of course I would never do that to a friend. Once she died, though, I think Lucas began to look at me in a different light, as they say.”
“Why didn’t you two get together? Why stay with Trip if he was so awful?” Heather asked, enthralled in the story.
“Divorce wasn’t an option. Too expensive. And dangerous. Trip had a bit of a temper, and we had a pre-nup. It made a divorce mutually too expensive for us. I came to the marriage with a good deal of money, you see, more than people imagined. Untangling our assets would have been a nightmare. So he looked the other way for a while.”
“For a while?” Heather asked.
Adriana smiled. “Did you know that Caitlyn used to gamble professionally?”
“What?” Neatly diverted, Heather turned her attention back to Caitlyn, who kept shuffling her cards.
“Professionally is a bit of an overstatement.”
“Your grandfather was livid when he found out.”
“I was running a card game at school,” Caitlyn explained, “and the captain of the football team was a sore loser.”
“What happened?”
Caitlyn shrugged. “I had to donate most of the money back to the school booster club.”
“Most?”
“I managed to keep some of it.”
“What did you do with it?”
Caitlyn smiled, remembering. “Gave it to Mikey DiGiovanni. His father owned the pizza place in town. He needed a car to start a delivery business.”
“You gave it?”
“It was more of a loan. He paid it back. With interest. And now he owns ten different locations across the state.” Caitlyn let the cards play under her hands, the whisper of them oddly soothing.
Adriana looked at her shrewdly. “I’m guessing that wasn’t the last time you did something like that.”
Caitlyn glanced at Darby, who smiled and said, “Caitlyn knows a good investment when she sees one.”
Feeling uncomfortable, Caitlyn decided to change the subject. “A girl has to get her start somewhere. Speaking of that, perhaps we should switch it up, play something we’re all good at?”
“Hearts,” Marion suggested hopefully.
Caitlyn looked at Heather. “I was thinking something more along the lines of Go Fish.”
There was a round of laughter as Caitlyn began to deal the cards.
<<>>
“So, Noah wasn’t the captain of the football team, was he?” Heather asked once they were in the car alone together. They had dropped Darby off first, she had to open the café early the next morning.
“I don’t really remember,” Caitlyn said curtly, hoping she could stop this conversation before it started.
“Really? So, he wasn’t the one who turned you in?”
Caitlyn shook her head. “I think Adriana was exaggerating for effect. It wasn’t that big of a scandal.”
“Really?” Heather shifted in the seat of the car, and Caitlyn could feel her looking at her.
“Well, my grandfather decided to send me away for a year. To a boarding school in France.”
“Like a military academy?” Heather said.
“More like an all-girls finishing school. He felt I needed some positive female role models. I only stayed a semester, but it was enough.”
“Enough for what?”
“To learn my lesson. I came home, and I wasn’t quite as rebellious as before. Before I was the girl with the crazy, man-obsessed mother, no father and the strict grandfather. I spent a lot of time rebelling, you know, black hair, black clothes, big clunky black shoes. And being mad at no one in particular.”
“And then was it like Sabrina when you came home?” Heather’s hand clutched Caitlyn’s arm. “I can just see it now; you must have walked into the room or someplace, and everyone there just turned to you and stared? Were you wearing a hat? Designer? Please tell me it was Chanel?”
Caitlyn laughed, navigating one of the twisty backwoods roads as she headed towards Heather’s house.
They were in Caitlyn’s car, the Mercedes coupe she had inherited from her grandfather. It had been one of his prized possessions, and driving it always made her feel closer to him.
“I don’t remember what I wearing, but suffice to say, it probably wasn’t head-to-toe black.”
Caitlyn was holding back with Heather. It had been a red and white polka dot bikini, and every eye on the pool deck at the club had turned her way. Half of them hadn’t recognized her, and she had been absurdly grateful for the overlarge sunglasses that hid her eyes. The walk to her lounge chair had seemed endless, but it had signaled a new beginning for Caitlyn, the realization that she could be who she wanted to be. She was her mother’s daughter in name only. She had begun to take pride in being a Montgomery, in being Lucas’s granddaughter. She had begun to think of her legacy.
“So, was that when Noah Randall caught sight of you?”
“What are you talking about?” Caitlyn shifted in her seat and let her eyes glance over in Heather’s direction.
“Come on, you have to tell me. I mean, it’s not like I can’t tell there’s something going on with you two.” Heather’s eyes gleamed in the reflection of the dashboard lights.
“What are you talking about?” Caitlyn felt her chest tighten in panic.
“I mean, I heard that you two used to date. In high school. I mean, if my high school boyfriend had turned out to be Noah Randall and I dumped him … wow, I would have kicked myself.”
“I didn’t dump him. He dumped me,” Caitlyn said tightly. They were getting closer to Heather’s house, and she was glad.
“What, he dumped you? Was he crazy? The nerve.”
Caitlyn had to smile at the fake outrage in Heather’s voice.
“It was a long time ago,” Caitlyn said, pulling into
the driveway of Heather’s house.
“Well, sometimes you just never get over your first,” Heather said.
Caitlyn paused, letting the silence sit in the air.
“He wasn’t?”
“Long story. He was supposed to be my first, but it just didn’t work out that way. Something got in the way.” Caitlyn didn’t feel like she needed to give Heather the whole story, how Noah had pushed her away when she needed friendship the most. She knew his adolescent male ego hadn’t handled the rejection well.
“Intriguing,” Heather said. “But I’m sure you two are making up for lost time. The looks you send each other. Half the time I can’t tell whether you two want to kill each other or get it on right on the boardroom table.”
There was a pause while Heather thought about this. “Tell me you haven’t?”
“No,” Caitlyn said emphatically, hoping this was the end of the conversation. But Heather wasn’t done.
“Are you sure? Because the two of you aren’t fooling anyone with that whole ‘Miss Montgomery and Mr. Randall’ act. I can tell you just want to jump each other’s bones.”
“We do not,” Caitlyn said.
“Oh please.” Heather rolled her eyes. “Have you thought maybe that’s exactly what you need? You know, get it out of your system, instead of trying to fight it?”
“What do you mean?” Caitlyn said.
“Well, according to you – and I’m not quite sure how this happened – you two were in love, first sweet innocent love and yet you never managed to do the mattress mambo. So here you are, years later, with all these pent-up sexual what-ifs going through your head. And not that you’re big on the details, but I know there’s a bad breakup in your past, and you probably haven’t gotten any since you lived in another country.”
Heather paused, and Caitlyn thought she was done, but it was only so she could add, “And there’s only one way to answer a ‘what-if.’”
“How?” Caitlyn asked, but she was pretty sure she already knew the answer.
“Do it,” Heather said in triumph, as if she had just pointed out the most logical thing in the world.
Heather said her good byes and thank yous, and Caitlyn was about to let her go when she stopped her.
“Does anyone else know? Or suspect?”
Heather gave a little laugh as she leaned in through the open door. “Well, the interoffice envelopes are pretty discreet. I don’t think anyone else knows you as well as I do.”
Caitlyn was about to say something when Heather beat her to it. “Don’t worry; your secret is safe with me.”
Relieved, Caitlyn nodded, and Heather shut the door and practically skipped her way up the brick walkway to her front door. Caitlyn waited to make sure her friend was in before pulling away and heading to her own bed. It had been good to have a girls’ night out, something she hadn’t enjoyed since she first moved to London. Once she had met Michael, he had monopolized most of her time and her thoughts. She had kept herself free in case he made last-minute plans, which he often did, but turning down friends so many times had left her with few people to call on when he’d changed plans on her.
But maybe Heather was right. Maybe what she needed was to satisfy that what-if. No strings, no commitment, just an answer to a question that had been out there too long.
Chapter 31
Noah watched her watch him. Something had changed. It was subtle, but now when he looked at her, she looked at him. Long, appraising looks that made him stiff between the legs while his blood rose. This had been going on for days, but still she hadn’t said so much as a word to him beyond the usual polite hellos and good mornings. It was driving him insane, and he knew if he didn’t get his arms around her, and his lips on her, he would explode. But today was her big day, her meeting with Tony Biddle, and she had come to work looking fierce, intent.
Chapter 32
Caitlyn eyed Tony carefully. He had enjoyed his poached salmon and pasta salad, and seemed to feel at ease in the conference room. Caitlyn had called on Darby and asked her to make lunch. Once Darby had gotten over the nervousness of cooking for one of the nightlife world’s celebrities, she had outdone herself. Which was good, Caitlyn thought, because lunch seemed to be the one thing Tony was enjoying the most.
They had chatted and gossiped, and it was going well until Caitlyn started to get down to business. Her plan made sense, and Tony could see that. He was having a little more difficulty in facing the truth.
“I don’t know, Caitlyn. It all sounds so difficult,” he said. “You make it sound like going on a diet.”
“It’s not depravation. It’s not very exciting, I’ll admit, but it works. Was opening your first restaurant sexy and exciting, or was it a lot of hard work, day in and day out, repetitive work until you got things right?”
“True, but…” he said.
“It was all part of a bigger picture for you. I understand that, Tony, and that’s what I want to help you with. Once we get the foundation set, you can build whatever you want on top of it. This is a beginning, something to put you on the right course.”
“If I tie up all of my free cash in these other things,” he glanced down at the paper, “I won’t have the money I need to expand.”
“Tony, you need to think about your future – protecting the money you have. You could easily become one of those shooting stars, Tony, white-hot in the moment and then tomorrow, gone.”
Caitlyn thought for a moment and tried to put it into terms he would understand. “What if someone got food poisoning at one of your restaurants or you got a bad review? Attendance drops, the buzz switches to someplace else and suddenly you don’t have the money coming in like you’ve always expected.”
“I’ve been rich, and I’ve been poor. Rich is better,” Tony said.
Caitlyn nodded. “Exactly.” She felt a surge of excitement. He was starting to feel it; he was getting there. She was about to push the papers towards him when there was a knock on the door. Heather poked her head in, looking nervous.
Caitlyn had asked not to be disturbed.
“What is it?”
“It’s Sam Harris,” Heather told her. “He said he needs to talk to you now.” Heather was apologetic. “He’s insisting.”
Caitlyn went into her office and picked up the phone.
Sam was in Boston on business, and his voice came across the telephone crisp and demanding.
“Caitlyn, I need you to pull up the statements on the Harts.” The Harts were an older couple, one of her new clients.
“Why? I’m in a meeting now.” She tried to keep the waspish sound out of her voice, but Sam couldn’t have picked a worse time to call.
“Who, Tony Biddle?” Sam didn’t think Tony was a proper client for the firm. “I’m supposed to meet with Richard Hart, and I just want to be prepared. Pull them up and fax them to me.”
He gave a number, and Caitlyn did as she was asked. She gave the task to Heather, and the whole thing took no more than a few minutes. Why Sam couldn’t have just asked Heather or his own assistant for it made no sense, but Sam had been keeping close tabs on her, questioning her on big and little things at almost every opportunity. It was beginning to tick her off.
Fuming at the delay, she walked back to the conference room. Tony was standing, the papers piled up neatly in front of him.
He made a show of checking his watch, and said, “I really need to be going.”
Caitlyn smiled. If Tony Biddle thought he was going to get out of here without signing the new account paperwork, then he didn’t know who he was dealing with.
“Well, I’ll only need one more minute,” she said, sliding a pen across the table to him.
Chapter 33
The note came through the interoffice envelope. Heather delivered it to her with a wink and craned to see what it said, but Caitlyn shooed her away as she extracted the piece of paper with the neatly typed note. “Congratulations on your new deal. Will you allow me the pleasure of your company to ce
lebrate?”
He had signed it with a simple, bold N and added a handwritten postscript: Don’t even think about saying no to the boss. He added only one box, with the word Yes underneath it.
Caitlyn considered only a moment before she took her pen, checked the box and slipped the paper back into the envelope and put it in her out box. She knew what she was saying yes to, and anticipation coursed through her. It was a good day to answer what-ifs.
Chapter 34
He had received the envelope back from her, and the little check, with the accompanying scrawl of XOXO ~ C made him grin in anticipation. He was getting his second shot with her, and he wasn’t going to mess it up this time.
He called Heather, not caring that he wasn’t discreet, and asked her what Caitlyn liked to eat. She mentioned The Golden Pear and how Caitlyn had a thing for the molten chocolate cake there.
Noah smiled into the phone. “Perfect.” He had no idea what a molten chocolate cake was, but Caitlyn, he knew, was a sucker for chocolate in any of its forms. He called Darby and made arrangements for a complete meal, ready to be picked up at six, with instructions for re-heating included.
Later in the day, he struggled over what to wear and then stopped himself. It was just dinner, he reminded himself, and settled for something casual – dark gray slacks, a white shirt and a soft, midnight blue cashmere sweater. The whole outfit had dutifully been picked out by his personal shopper, who had been hired by his publicist, whose job it was to help him look less like a college kid and more like a CEO. He had scoffed at first, but then appreciated the power being well-dressed had given him in a room full of scruffy programmers, for most of whom not wearing flip flops was a big deal.
He kept checking his watch, waiting for her to arrive, pacing, checking on the dinner, touching things, re-checking his wine selection, fussing over the music he had playing. She wasn’t even here, and she was tying him in knots. Noah was more nervous now than he had been facing down a boardroom of venture capitalists.