by Drea Stein
“At the end of the summer, I got a full-time job at the bank, and Zoë didn’t. Not that it mattered much. She went to work in publishing and had a lot more fun. We shared a flat together, and I decided to stay on. I liked my job, and because of the people I met through Zoë, I came to the attention of the private banking division. They had a group that worked with very high net worth individuals, figuring out who they were, what they liked and targeting them. Were they interested in becoming art collectors? If so, we had art advisors to guide them through the gallery. If they liked the theatre, we got them seats to opening night, and so on. I became a chaperone to these events.”
It had been fun, and she had been good at it. It had all seemed so much simpler back then.
Noah nodded, encouraging her to go on.
“And one time I met Michael, not because he was a client, but because he worked for the same bank. I looked great that night,” she said, with a smile. The dress had been amazing.
“I had earned this reputation, the crazy Yankee, a curious mix of working too hard combined with the ability to party. Michael asked me to lunch the next day, and probably because I didn’t act all that impressed by him, even laughing at his pretensions, it went on from there. He said I was refreshing. I took it to mean I was naïve, and I spent a great deal of time planning my interactions with him. I hadn’t had many boyfriends, really, so…”
She trailed off, glanced up and, seeing she still had his attention, kept going. Noah had been her first real boyfriend, and her last serious relationship before Michael. Sure, in college, she had dated, but after Noah, she’d been determined to keep things light.
“I think that was part of the attraction for him. One thing led to another; he wanted to get married, and I said yes. It all seemed perfect. The accent, the clothes, the convertible roadster, the country house, the dinners, all of the right gestures. It made me feel grand. It made me feel respectable.
“As soon as I said yes, things began to get a little odd. He seemed to get more possessive and more attentive. He would suggest how I should dress, what books I should read, whom I should talk to and about what. But if he thought I was too attentive in talking to someone, especially another man, he would fly off into a rage. Or if it seemed like I wanted to go out with my friends and not him, he would get cold, and withdrawn.
“I spent more time trying to figure out how to keep him happy, in a good mood, than I should have.”
She glanced at Noah and saw that he was staring at her, his jaw clenched tightly, his hands balled into fists.
“Did he ever…?” Noah could not say it, didn’t want to think what he would do if he had.
“What, hit me? Threaten me?” Caitlyn gave a bitter laugh. “No, Michael was far too clever for that. He used other ways to get at me. Kept me so busy trying to please him that I lost a bit of myself. And then came the final blow. I came back early from a business trip, to surprise him, you see, and I did, in the truest sense of the word – with Zoë, my friend.” Caitlyn shook her head, remembering. “I was shocked, but it was good; it brought me to my senses. I was angry, angry at him, but more at myself. For allowing myself to become so caught up with someone, to have spent so much of my time and energy trying to be something for someone else. It reminded me of my mother.”
“But that wasn’t it?” Noah said, his voice low.
“No, surprisingly enough, he couldn’t believe that I wanted to end it. I think that was what stunned him, that we couldn’t work it out. He still wanted to marry me, but didn’t think that he needed to observe the traditional idea of monogamy. That was a deal breaker for me, and he called me American and provincial.”
“Didn’t that make you angry?”
Caitlyn laughed. “Angry was an understatement. But I tried to take the high road, not telling people what really happened. He used that to his advantage, so suddenly I seemed like the bad one. What I had thought of as my circle of friends had shrunk considerably. My personal life was in shambles, and I didn’t get the promotion I thought would and, well, London didn’t look so friendly anymore. No one would touch me, offer me another job.”
“So my father called, and suddenly good old Queensbay looked okay,” Noah said, connecting the dots.
Caitlyn nodded. “No, I called him. And begged. He always said there was a place for me, but I think that’s because he never thought I would take him up on it. But I needed to get away from Michael, so I thought it would be better to get away, to come back, to see what this place held for me.”
“Did you ever love him?”
Caitlyn paused for a moment before answering, “I thought I did.” She didn’t add what she was thinking: Not the way I thought I loved you.
“So, I guess you’re over him?”
Caitlyn looked at Noah, held his deep brown eyes. “I would say so.”
He moved towards her, and she let him kiss away the memories. They still hadn’t talked about the future, or about their past, but she knew that could wait.
“You haven’t had it easy, have you?” Noah paused, his hands holding her face to his.
“I don’t know. Things could be a whole lot worse. Who said life was easy? As long as there is some fun in it.”
“We could have some fun now.” He skimmed his thumb along her cheek, his smile back, and Caitlyn felt relieved. She wasn’t ready for serious. She didn’t do serious anymore.
“Yes,” she agreed, wrapping her arms around him, “we could.”
Chapter 44
They spent that night together, and Noah cooked her breakfast the next morning before sending her to work with a kiss and then surprising her by telling her he had some things to take care of. Since then, Noah had been busy, around, taking her to dinner, always picking her up at the house, respecting her wish that they keep things on the down low, eating at restaurants outside of Queensbay where it was less likely they would be spotted.
He warmed her bed some nights, but he had business meetings in the city, and sometimes he stayed there. It wasn’t that she sensed their relationship was cooling off, not at all. It was just getting comfortable, into a rhythm, like she – and he – expected that Noah would be there.
Still, he hadn’t brought up the future again, or pushed. Noah was following her lead. Caitlyn was pondering this, missing him, since he had spent the last two days in Boston on a business trip, judging a business plan competition, and wondering just how she and Noah Randall, hot-headed teenage lovers, had settled into this. A couple. A couple that no one knew about with a future they dared not touch. And it was almost Christmas. What did one buy for one’s secret billionaire boyfriend?
Caitlyn was looking on the Internet, searching for ideas, when the phone rang. She looked at the caller ID on her phone and sighed. It was Tony. And she didn’t really need to deal with Tony right now. It was first thing on Monday morning, and she hadn’t finished her coffee. But you couldn’t keep your best client waiting. She picked up the phone.
“Hello.”
“Caitlyn,” Tony’s voice bellowed over the receiver.
“Of course, what can I do for you?”
“I need my money.”
“Excuse me?” Caitlyn said.
Her stomach did a flip-flop. How come they never called when they were happy? They never congratulated you when you made them money. They only called when something was wrong.
Caitlyn pulled Tony’s files. The quarterly statements had been sent out to clients last week and copies delivered to the account managers just before that. Everything looked fine with the accounts.
“What’s the problem, Tony?”
“I need the money I sent you.”
“What money?” Caitlyn said.
“The million-five I sent you to get involved in the partnership.”
“How did you send it?” And what was he talking about?
“I wrote checks. From different accounts, I might add,” Tony said.
“And you sent them in the mail, to me?” Caitlyn felt l
ike she was the slow tortoise trying to catch the fast hare.
“Yes, that’s what the material you sent me told me to do.”
“Who told you that?”
“No, you told me. Your name was on the letter,” Tony said.
Caitlyn tried to hide her surprise.
“Don’t you know what’s going on there?”
“Of course I know, Tony. But you put up the money to invest in a deal – what deal?” she asked, frantically searching her desk, flipping through screens on her computer as if the answer could be there.
“How the hell do I know? I trusted you, so I sent the money. Caitlyn, that’s not the problem. I need my original amount back now.”
Tony sounded like he was in a panic, and Caitlyn was curious. It didn’t sound like the man she knew.
“Is everything okay, Tony?”
She heard him draw in a deep breath. “It’s fine, just fine. But I have some unexpected capital needs, and I need the cash back sooner, rather than later.”
There was an opportunity to preach, Caitlyn thought, to say something along the lines of “I told you so.” She didn’t think it would be a good idea and certainly wouldn’t endear her to Tony. Of course, it might bear to remind him of the fact once everything had cleared up. It might make him more willing to believe that she really did have his best interests at heart. “Listen, Tony, this doesn’t have to be a problem. Let me see what I can do.”
“Fine. Sooner would be better.” He hung up on her.
Caitlyn looked down at the phone. This bothered her, more because she could have seen it coming. She knew about Tony’s financial position. That was why she had advised him on the slow and steady route. But who had sent him paperwork asking him to invest over a million dollars?
Caitlyn found Sam Harris in his office, as usual, staring at his computer.
“Caitlyn? What can I help you with?” He looked up, and Caitlyn was hit with a sudden realization. He reminded her, in certain ways, of Michael. Or perhaps it was just the feeling of revulsion that came over her whenever she thought about either one of them. At least she only had to work with Sam.
“I just got a call from Tony Biddle.” She sat down in the chair across from him, staring straight at him.
“So? He’s your client.”
“Funny, that’s what I thought, too. But, apparently someone sent him some deal paperwork asking him for quite a bit of money.”
Sam leaned back and crossed his arms. “So, you invited him in on a deal, and he sent in the money. That’s the business we’re in, Caitlyn. He can’t just have it back, you know, not until the investment term is up.”
“Yes, well, I never sent him the paperwork.”
“Really?” Sam typed something up on his screen and turned it to show her. “This is in the system.”
Caitlyn looked at the screen in disbelief. Tony had said he had gotten a letter from her, and here was an electronic copy.
“I never sent that to him. He’s not ready for that kind of risk, and he doesn’t really have that kind of money to invest. He needs it back.” Caitlyn fought the small wave of panic that was settling over her.
Sam laughed a little. “We’re not a library, Caitlyn. He can’t just have his money back.”
“Sure he can. We have the money; we can give it back,” Caitlyn said.
“If we gave back money to anyone who changed his mind, then we wouldn’t have much of a business, would we? Our business is built upon the assumption that we get to keep the money for a while, to invest it. It’s in the paperwork.”
“But this was a mistake. He was never supposed to get that paperwork,” Caitlyn said, thinking fast. She didn’t know how Tony had gotten it. Perhaps Heather had messed up? Still, there would be time enough to figure that out later. Now she needed to focus on keeping Tony a happy client.
Sam lifted his hands and shrugged.
Chapter 45
“You seem to have settled in quite nicely here,” Chase said. They were in the boatyard, walking amongst the hulls of boats wrapped in plastic against the coming winter. Chase had wanted to take a look at one for sale, and Noah had agreed to accompany him, more to get out of the office than anything else.
Early December was cold, with the wind rolling in from the water. Noah hunched down into the new coat he’d bought at North Coast Outfitters and wished he’d sprung for a pair of gloves as well.
“Hey, earth to Noah.”
Noah looked up quickly. Chase was staring at him, a look of curiosity on his face.
“Sorry, I’ve just been thinking about things.”
“What, your new business or Caitlyn?”
Noah shook his head. His friend knew him too well. “Caitlyn.”
“So what’s wrong with that?” Chase asked, ducking under a metal brace and around the stern of a boat. He was searching for something by name.
“It seems like she’s all I can think about,” Noah said, complaining. It was true. He couldn’t get the thought of her out of his head, but anytime he tried to talk to her seriously about them, she changed the subject.
“You sound like a teenage girl,” Chase said.
“You just wait,” Noah shot back. “Your turn will come.”
Chase shook his head. “No way, I am a confirmed bachelor. Too many fish in the sea for me to settle on just one, but you’re different. You know, like a swan.”
“A swan?” Noah wasn’t sure he wanted to be compared to a swan.
“Yeah, you know, the big white birds that mate for life. You and Caitlyn are swans. You two are meant for each other, but you’re too thick-headed to see it.”
“I’m not thick-headed,” Noah said, almost hitting his head on the keel of a sailboat as Chase abruptly changed course.
“Well, maybe you’re not, since you’re the one talking about your feelings with your best friend, but one of you is. If you two screw it up this time, I’m gonna have to knock some sense into both of you.” Chase stopped suddenly and tilted his head back. “This is it. The Windsway. She’s a beauty, don’t you think?”
Noah looked up. The yacht was not wrapped in plastic like the others, so he could admire the clean lines and simple design. Chase was right; it was a beautiful boat.
“Owner lost his shirt on some real estate deal. He’s selling things off left and right. I already bought his Porsche, and he’d said he’d give me a deal on the boat. Only a year old, never sailed. Sucker,” Chase said genially. Noah knew his friend hated it when people bought boats and didn’t use them.
“So, what do I do?” Noah said.
Chase looked at him, his mind clearly on the boat and not on Noah’s trouble. “Umm, have you ever tried telling her how you feel, really feel?”
Noah waited, and his heart skipped a beat. “I’m afraid I’ll lose her if I tell her.”
“Well, then you never really had her, did you? You either win or you lose, but you can’t keep playing forever.”
Chase looked up at the boat. There was a ladder against the side. The breeze had brought with it a light drizzle, and Noah wished for a cup of hot coffee.
“Want to take a look?” Chase’s grin was boyish, and Noah couldn’t resist his friend’s enthusiasm.
“Let’s go take a look at your great deal.”
As they climbed the ladder, Noah decided to remind his friend, “Ever hear the one about if it’s too good to be true, then it probably is…?”
“You’re just jealous I found this first…” Chase’s voice was muffled. He was already in the cabin of the boat.
Shaking his head, Noah followed his friend.
Chapter 46
It had taken some work, but Caitlyn had finally convinced Sam Harris to send Tony’s money back to him. After having to listen to another half-hour of lecturing, Caitlyn had returned to her desk, exhausted. She had won a battle, sure, but she felt like she was losing a war. Sam Harris didn’t have any faith in her. That much had been evident.
It would be a good night to go home
early, Caitlyn thought, checking her watch, and then realized it wasn’t so early. Noah had an unexpected business dinner with some investors in the city, and she was alone. It would be a nice evening to relax, have a glass of wine and look at account statements. She still hadn’t had a chance to look at Mrs. Smith-Sullivan’s paperwork, and the woman had been calling daily, harassing her.
Caitlyn pulled her coat tightly around her and turned off her office lights. The rest of the floor was empty. It was the holiday season, and no one was staying late. The parking lot was in the back of the building, looking at the brick face with its symmetrical row of windows. It was cold out, the sky already darkening, and the smell of fireplaces was in the air, unmistakably winter. The quaint gas lamps of Queensbay were draped in evergreen garlands and red ribbons, and last Sunday had been the official lighting of the Christmas tree, complete with the Victorian-garbed carolers.
She picked up some supplies in the local market, chatting with the woman behind the counter. It was starting, she thought, to feel like home.
She had set some lights on a timer, and the warm orange glow greeted her as she pulled into the driveway. The house was solid, comforting, and even though it was quiet, she was happy to be home.
Already feeling calmer, she heated up some dinner and poured a glass of wine. She took it all into the study and set out the papers Mrs. Smith-Sullivan had given her. The old girl Sully wasn’t that far off, Caitlyn thought, after looking through things and using her calculator. According to her Queensbay Capital statements, there should have been more than enough money for her to write a check to her nephew.
But that wasn’t what had happened. It was only after she had needed it and complained that the money showed up in one lump sum. Someone had forgotten to keep up the transfers, though according to Sully they were supposed to be automatic. And if there had been enough money in the firm account, then there was no reason why someone wouldn’t have made those transfers.