Had one of her girls heard that last sentence, they might have burst into laughter. It reeked of sarcasm. Of course, neither Oliver nor Zane sensed it. This was the way of men sometimes, wasn’t it? Why had she gone on that date again?
“Very well then,” Oliver said. He was clearly ready to take any compliment. He stood, clicked a button, and then, his presentation appeared in light on the wall beside him. “My pitch to you today encapsulates the height of boutique hotels, spas, resorts, and all that Martha’s Vineyard tourists flock here in the summertime for. But my resort? It broadens on what you already do well here, and it sets itself up for some of the highest rollers this island has ever seen. I know already, this previous Thanksgiving, Martha’s Vineyard played host to one of the most expensive weddings of the century. I’m talking about that level of money coming into the island all the time. That’s what this resort would do for you and the people of Edgartown and all of Martha’s Vineyard.”
That whole thing, with Charlotte Hamner planning a wedding in about three weeks for a famous actress — it had annoyed Amelia a great deal, as she’d had to help with a number of the permits and such. It had been a headache. Of course, that level of money coming into the island was nothing to scoff at, especially in front of Zane, who cared about that sort of thing above all else.
“Very intriguing,” Zane said now as he tapped a finger on his chin.
“I thought so, too,” Oliver said, clearly pleased with himself. “Shall I outline some of the major elements of the resort for you now?”
“Absolutely,” Zane nodded.
“Hold on just a moment.” Amelia held up a finger. Annoyance flooded her heart and took hold of her tongue.
“Yes?”
“I think it’s necessary that we discuss the various permits and such that you’ll need prior to breaking ground on this establishment,” she said. She made heavy eye contact with Oliver as if to say, Don’t mess with me. I’m in charge here.
“I see. Permits,” Oliver acknowledged.
“You’ll need to make sure you get an environmentalist crew out there to approve that you aren’t messing up any important ecosystems. We here on Martha’s Vineyard care a great deal about the nature around us—including all birds and other animals that live on the island alongside us.”
Oliver looked at her like she was nuts. She had, in fact, just compared people to birds — but she was prepared to do it again.
“Beyond these various environmentalist permits, you’ll need a building permit, a plumbing permit, an electrical permit, and a mechanical permit. You’ll also need to present your plans in front of the tourism management group here to ensure it aligns with our vision for Martha’s Vineyard.”
“I kind of thought that’s what this meeting was.” Oliver arched a brow.
Amelia chuckled unkindly. “I’m afraid it’s not totally up to me, although I do belong to the tourism management group.”
“Of course you do,” Oliver said, his voice smooth and cultured.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Amelia,” Zane jumped in. His eyes flashed angrily. “Oliver has hardly told us a single thing about his resort plan, and already, you’re stretching out all this red tape.”
“I feel like I’ve been arrested,” Oliver said to Zane.
The two of them laughed together. Amelia had been in settings like this before: where men liked to think they were above her, belittle her, display a little chauvinism. But everything she’d said was true. Oliver really did have to jump through these hoops if he wanted to build his ritzy resort.
“I’m sorry. I guess I don’t get the joke,” Amelia said.
“She never does,” Zane told Oliver.
Again, they laughed. Annoyed, exhausted, and overwhelmed, Amelia stood from the table and collected her things. “I’m terribly sorry. I have another meeting scheduled after this one, and I don’t have time for theatrics or rudeness. If you’d like to have a professional meeting about your plans and how you hope to get these relevant permits, then we can reschedule something in the near future. If you do decide to change the time, last-minute, let me know as soon as possible.”
“Will do,” Oliver said. His voice was hard-edged. “As long as you have enough time to do your hair, we should be good.”
Amelia paused in the doorway, yanked her head around, and glared at him. Gosh, he looked pleased with himself. Probably, the thought of an imperfect woman turned his stomach, especially him being a New Yorker and all.
“I didn’t realize the nature of my hair had any effect on your presentation, Mr. Krispin. How awful for you.”
Amelia then disappeared through the door and marched back to her office. Once at her desk, she collapsed and placed her forehead on the wood. What she felt now was very strange — a mix of triumph and total, all-encompassing anger and shame.
Chapter Six
It was a day that would forever live in infamy as one of the most annoying of Amelia’s life. Each meeting seemed to drift forward, second-after-second, so that she questioned the very nature of time itself. Just after one-thirty, she told her secretary she couldn’t hack it anymore — that she needed to reschedule all her meetings for the rest of the week. Her secretary looked at her like she had three heads.
“I just don’t feel like myself,” Amelia said. “And I don’t want to screw anything else up.”
This was putting it lightly.
Amelia returned home, changed into a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, and sat on the floor by the couch. She stared at the wall for a number of minutes. Memories from the night before sizzled in the back of her mind. Rage toward Nathan, toward Oliver, toward all men for their arrogance and their lack of love for her, spun through her. Mostly, though, she hated that she’d allowed herself to feel anything for anyone, especially when she had known that anything with Nathan was short-term, or even less than that—a fling and nothing more.
Women like her had flings. It wasn’t this crazy, out-of-the-box thing. Why, then, did she feel so crazy?
Just past three, Amelia called Olivia. The bell had just rung at the high school, and through the phone, Amelia could hear the frantic cries from the high school hallway.
“Amelia! Hey! I was just wrapping up here and prepping to head over to the mansion.”
“Ah. Another day of hard labor ahead of you?”
“Something like that,” Olivia replied. She had inherited an old, historic mansion from her great aunt and had spent the majority of the past few months fixing it up. Since then, she’d also fallen in love with the man her great aunt had hired to build it back up. In Amelia’s eyes, it was as though Great Aunt Marcia had known all along Olivia might find love with Anthony.
“Gotcha. Well, that’s okay. I was just curious if you could talk.”
“Of course! Why don’t you come over to the house? You can talk while I spackle. It’s boring work, anyway.” Olivia paused for a moment and then said, “It’s a little early for you to be out of work, isn’t it?”
“I left a little early.”
“Sometimes, you’re there till nine at night.”
“Okay, so I left a lot early,” Amelia quipped. “But I had to get out of there.”
Olivia’s voice shifted to reflect her worry. “You’ll explain when you get there?”
“Sure. Yeah. Okay.”
Amelia drove the familiar route out toward the old historic building and parked to the left of Anthony’s big truck. When she appeared at the door, Olivia hollered through the second-floor window. “Let yourself in and come on up!”
Anthony and Olivia were both on the second floor, working in separate rooms. Anthony waved a sturdy hand from down the hall and said, “Good to see you, Amelia!”
“You too!” Amelia replied as she swept past and entered the bedroom toward the right side of the hallway, where Olivia stood to tackle her spackling task. She looked giddy, like a much younger girl, and she grinned madly at Amelia with her little metal tool lifted toward the wall.
“Welcome back to our chaos,” Olivia said. “I won’t put you to work this time.” She then furrowed her brow and added, “You look a bit...”
“Exhausted? Hungover?” Amelia finished. “I’m all of those things and more.”
Olivia’s eyes bugged out. “You got drunk on a work night?”
“I know. It’s not like me,” Amelia said. She then chewed at her lower lip, turned her eyes toward the ground, and admitted it. “I had a — um — one-night stand.”
Olivia dropped the metal spackling tool. It rattled around on the ground as she gaped. “You’re joking.”
“I’m not,” Amelia said. Her heart thudded somberly. “I wish I was.”
Olivia rushed toward her, fell to her knees, and gripped Amelia’s shoulders. “Oh, my God! This is huge!” Her voice was laced with excitement.
“Is it? Because I feel crazy.”
“It’s huge. I promise,” Olivia said. “I mean, when was the last time you ... Well, not that I can talk. Before I met Anthony, well.” she shrugged. They knew each other’s history like the backs of their own hands. “But it doesn’t sound like it was the best of times?”
Amelia shrugged. “He was handsome and sometimes funny. And very rich. And sure, it was fine and fun and a life experience. But then I was late to this meeting this morning, and I kind of made a fool of myself. And don’t get me started on what it feels like to do a walk of shame at the age of forty.”
Olivia buzzed her lips. “Listen, Amelia. Over the past decade, you’ve worked yourself to death. You’ve hardly given a moment to yourself. So what? You had a walk of shame? That’s incredible! You got yourself out of your normal, everyday schedule, and you experienced something new!”
Amelia scrunched her nose. She played with a strand of hair, which had now morphed into a strange curly mass since she hadn’t been able to monitor it properly since it had dried. “I look like a muppet,” she confessed.
Olivia burst into laughter. “You’re way too hard on yourself. I know that’s the Amelia way.”
A tear trickled out of the side of Amelia’s eye. She placed her finger against it to catch it and then lifted her tear up into the light. “I can’t believe I shed a single tear over Nathan Gregory.”
“The tear doesn’t have to be for him,” Olivia told her. “It can be a tear for how beautiful it is to meet and connect with a stranger and then, maybe, never see him again. But for a moment, you two were everything to one another.”
“You really do have a poetic way of looking at things,” Amelia said, her voice doubtful.
“I have to. I teach creative writing,” Olivia said teasingly.
A few hours later, Amelia collected herself up, wrapped her emotions uptight, and said goodbye to Olivia. “I told Jake I’d go to his basketball game.”
“Cheerleading one night, basketball the next,” Olivia said. “You’re busier than most moms.”
“You know I can’t miss these things,” Amelia said.
“Those kids are so lucky to have you,” Olivia offered. “I just hope you don’t run yourself too ragged. I’m sure you can miss a game here and there.”
Amelia chuckled. “No. I really can’t.” Not with Suzy so far away. Amelia had made a promise to her brother — to be there for his children in every single capacity. She wasn’t the kind to break her promises.
AMELIA MET HER BROTHER and her parents at the high school gymnasium. She’d hardly eaten a thing over the course of the day, and she was grateful when her father appeared beside her with an extra hot dog, with extra relish, just like she liked it. Jason and Anita Taylor, her lovely and loving parents, had worked together as architects throughout their careers until they’d ultimately retired a few years before. Her father gave her a strange look as she accepted the hot dog, as though he could see directly through to her strange day of pain.
“How are you doing, Ames?”
Amelia tried on a fake smile. “Not so bad. And yourself?”
“I’m prepared for another wild night of high school sports!” he replied.
“Good to hear,” Amelia said as she made eye contact with her mother. “How was your day, Mom?”
“I’ve decided to totally change the kitchen,” her mother announced. “I’m drawing up plans as we speak.”
Amelia laughed. “You really couldn’t stay retired, could you?”
“As if you could ever stop working, Amelia,” her mother said with a sneaky smile. “You’re just as addicted as we are.”
“I guess so,” Amelia said. And in truth, she was grateful that she had gotten such a stellar work ethic from her parents. They were lucky to enjoy the fields they’d chosen. Even Daniel gave so much of himself to his museum work.
Together, they sat near the middle section of the bleachers. Daniel smacked his palms together and focused, watching as his son warmed up, bobbing and weaving through the other players as his jersey swept out behind him. He was a thin kid with wiry muscles, and his face looked like someone else’s — not the normal Jake they were accustomed to back at the house. He was in sport-mode.
“I heard you were here for poor Mandy’s fall last night,” her mother said as she furrowed her brow. “I can’t imagine. It just terrifies me to think of it.”
“It was scary,” Amelia affirmed. “But she popped right back up after a while. She’s resilient, that girl.”
“She gets a lot of that from her aunt.” Anita winked. “Oh, you know, I heard something awful today.”
Amelia arched her brow. Had news of her one-night stand reached her mother’s ears? She supposed it wouldn’t have surprised her. After all, she had been spotted several times at the Sunrise Cove, and news traveled fast on the island.
“You’ve heard about that pregnant Sheridan girl. Audrey,” Anita continued.
“Yes.” In fact, Amelia had seen the poor girl earlier that morning — no longer pregnant, with a face paler than the moon.
“Well, she gave birth. Late February, I think. And the poor baby is quite sick. They’ve kept him in the NICU ever since.”
Amelia’s heart dropped. “That’s just awful.”
“It really is. The girl had a surprise pregnancy. She was meant to be off to Penn State for her sophomore year in journalism. Now, she’s facing some of the biggest hardships of her life. It’s a good thing that the Sheridan family is so strong. She has a good support network.”
“Yes. True.”
The basketball players lined up as the announcer read off their names. Amelia smacked her palms together loudly, then even louder for her nephew, Jake Taylor. He beamed at the stands, at his father and his aunt and his grandparents, and then hustled back to the bench to prep for the first few minutes of the game.
The cheerleaders arranged themselves toward the far end of the basketball court, beneath the basketball hoop. Amelia found Mandy toward the back of the other cheerleaders, which wasn’t customary. Normally, she liked to be front and center.
But there seemed to be something off about Mandy, now. She couldn’t fully use her hurt shoulder, yet it seemed like, although she performed all the motions with her good arm and jumped around just as high as the others. But it was her face that told Amelia another story. Her eyes were sorrowful; her hair wasn’t as curly and vibrant, and between various scored points of the game, Mandy looked on the verge of tears.
It was such a direct reflection of what Amelia felt. It was as though Mandy had bottled up all of Amelia’s disappointments, fears and sadness from the previous twenty-four hours. Maybe she was just upset about the cheerleading competition? She had put a lot of effort into it.
At half-time, Edgartown High School was a full ten points ahead of Falmouth. Daniel was wild with excitement. “I’m going to the concession stand. Does anyone need anything? Popcorn? A soda?”
Anita and Jason both ordered diet cokes, while Amelia said she didn’t need anything. When Daniel disappeared up the steps, Amelia spotted Mandy yet again in the corner of the gym. She had her ha
nds over her eyes, and her shoulders shook — as though she was in pain. Beside her, a friend whispered in her ear.
Maybe it was a boy? A broken heart? A bad test score? Just PMS? It really could have been anything.
Amelia held herself back. It did nobody any good for her to make a scene now, in front of much of the school and all their parents. She remembered her teenage years well and knew that back then, she’d really only needed her girls, Camilla, Michelle, Jennifer, Mila and Olivia, by her side. Still, she made a mental note to take Mandy out for a lunch date soon. She needed a woman in her life she could depend on, whether she knew she did or not, Aunt Amelia wasn’t about to let her down.
Chapter Seven
It took a few days for Amelia to shake herself free of the icky feeling of her one-night stand. Sure, Olivia, Camilla, Jennifer, and Mila sent her a number of “you go, girl” texts, which pepped her up and it wasn’t like work wasn’t as full-on as ever. By the time Friday night came around, Amelia had found herself no longer checking her phone as often, just in case Nathan Gregory had decided to send her a “Hey, we should do this again” text. She knew better than to expect that, anyway. He wasn’t the type, and he’d probably already had a few other, similar nights with other women back in Boston.
Probably, those women knew how to have actual, human conversations over drinks. Amelia couldn’t help but play out some of the things she’d said to him and wince.
Friday evening, Jennifer stopped by Peases Point Way for some pizza. They wore sweat pants and dove into some big Edgartown Pizza pie, stretching the gooey cheese up with each slice and eating about two slices too many. Jennifer spoke about her romance and now full-on relationship with Derek, and Amelia was again reminded of the first days Jennifer had ever crushed on Joel, her ex-husband. It was wonderful to see her so vibrant again, like a little kid.
“What did it feel like to be back on a date?” Jennifer asked, after a small silence.
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