by Drea Stein
Olivier wanted to wince, she saw that, as Jake took his hand and shook it.
“Uncle Olivier is visiting, and he’s going to stay for a while,” Adele said, flitting around, and only her natural grace kept her from knocking over a display of vases.
“Uncle Olivier,” Jake said, and Colleen shot him a warning look.
“Yes, quite a charming town. Adele was just telling me all about you.”
“Yes, Colleen and I go way back.”
“Really? She never mentioned you.”
Colleen decided to step in. This wasn’t how she had envisioned her next meeting with Jake going, but she needed to avoid any sort of scene while Adele was watching.
“Are the pastries for here?”
“Yes, I was getting a box for the office, and I picked one up for you. It’s on me. A thank you to a customer.”
“Customer?” Olivier’s voice was curious.
“I work in construction. I fixed up the store for Colleen.”
“He let me help,” Adele chimed in, from where she had taken the box to the counter and was examining the contents.
“So you’re a handyman?”
Jake laughed easily. “Something like that,” he said.
Colleen interjected. “Jake is being modest. His owns one of the largest construction companies on the coast.”
“Still, personally fixing Colleen’s shop. How nice. Please, send me the bill.”
Smoothly, Olivier pulled a business card from his pocket and tried to hand it to Jake.
“No need,” Jake said and waved the card away. “Colleen and I have already settled up.”
Olivier looked between the two of them, and Colleen found herself seething. She wasn’t particularly pleased that Olivier was here, but she certainly didn’t like how she was becoming the object of a pissing match. Olivier had no claim on her, and Jake should know that he had nothing to worry about.
“Still, in case anything else needs fixing, please be sure to call me first,” Olivier said and held out the card.
Jake’s curiosity must have worn out. He took it without a glance and stuffed it in his pocket. Colleen wanted to scream in frustration. Most of all she wanted both of them to go and leave her in peace and quiet. It was disconcerting to have the two of them here, in the same place, as if her past, present, and future were colliding.
“I am sure Colleen can figure out what needs to be done. Must be going. Got some things to be handy with, you know.”
Jake made his escape, but the look on his face was stormy. Colleen was about to run out after him and make excuses, but stopped herself. She hadn’t invited Olivier here. She didn’t want him here, but he had a right to see Adele. Of course he hadn’t seemed that interested before now, but she pushed that traitorous thought out of her head. Olivier was here now, and she couldn’t deny Adele the opportunity to spend time with him.
Chapter 56
Colleen stepped out of the car onto the brick walkway of The Lighthouse, an upscale restaurant, which was housed in the former Queensbay lighthouse.
“I am glad you agreed to go to dinner with me,” Olivier said. He was waiting for her at the front entrance. He offered her his arm, and she took it, since to not do so would seem both rude and provincial.
The black Lincoln Town Car had arrived precisely at six-thirty for the half-hour drive up the coast. She had agreed to come to dinner with Olivier because she knew that the sooner she did, the sooner she would find out what he wanted. It was just dinner, at a restaurant, with dozens of other people. True, she hadn’t realized he would have picked what the local papers called “the most romantic restaurant on the coast.” He swept in, announced his name at the reception desk, and the hostess snapped to attention. The Lighthouse had a hushed and serene atmosphere. Cutlery clicked softly, candlelight flickered, and waiters in black vests and bowties moved fluidly among the tables.
They were led toward the back, to a small table for two. It was just central enough so that everyone in the dining room would see them together. Colleen knew that Olivier had carefully planned all of this. He was a big believer in appearances, and he wanted everyone to know that they were together. She let a rueful smile cross her lips. It was public yet intimate, and if pressed by his wife, he could claim that, true, he and Colleen had dined, but in full view of a dozen eyes. Subtle, clever, and totally Olivier. He wanted something, and Colleen braced herself for what was to come.
“I see they received my request for the champagne,” he said as they were seated at the table. He checked the bottle, Colleen knew, to make sure it was the exact vintage he’d requested. Seeing it was satisfactory, he nodded for the waiter to pour a glass for her and then for himself. He lifted his glass, and she waited for the toast, wondering what he was going to say.
“To old times.”
She nodded. “Cheers. To old times.”
Their glasses clinked and she took a sip of the champagne. It was good, expensive, and she savored it as she leaned back and prepared herself for the show. He had obviously taken great pains with the evening, making all the arrangements ahead of time. The dishes paraded out before them without a menu offered for them to peruse. Even so, Colleen was aware that most of this wasn’t even on the regular Lighthouse menu and knew she was being treated to the best he could offer.
Olivier talked about art, antiques, books, and work. He was charming, and it all flowed over her. She chatted back. He had been nothing all those years if not interesting. Still, when it turned personal, he didn’t pry, just asked a few questions about her mother, the town, Adele and her schooling. She wondered about all of the things unsaid, and when he would get around to them.
After dinner, they walked out onto the terrace, overlooking the water, where it stretched out until it met the sky. The gentle breeze ruffled her hair and the silver sliver of moon kissed the water with its luminous glow. Restaurant sounds rose and fell behind them: laughter, the clink of dishes, while from below came the sound of the gentle lap of the water against the shoreline.
He took her hands. She realized that his seduction had been subtle. He hadn’t tried to kiss her, had barely touched her. Instead, flowers had been delivered to the store and he had arranged the car, the dinner, and now a nightcap while they took in the amazing view. She realized this was no different than when she had first met him and his charm, carefully supplemented by money and sophistication, had swept her away. She had been blind and blindsided. Too young and too stupid to know where all of that was headed, but now, she thought, she wasn’t the same person. So she waited, biding her time.
“I have been thinking, my darling, that I miss you. I miss what we had.”
“What did we have?” Colleen asked. She was curious to see what he thought, how he characterized their relationship.
“Laughter, fun. Love.”
“Yes. We did, and then you married another a woman and I’m a mother. It seems as if we aren’t the people we used to be. We can’t go back to what we had.”
“There are many different kinds of relationships,” he said softly.
She waited, wondering. He gave his most charming smile, even as he still held her hands. “I would like for us to find a way to be together more,” he said.
“You’re welcome to visit Adele anytime, but we would need …” Colleen started to say.
“Yes, someday, perhaps we can tell her who I am.”
She kept the smile plastered on her face, but her heart dropped as he continued with his pitch.
“Would you like to open a store in New York for me?”
“What?” she said, taken aback. She took a deep breath, steadied herself.
“I think it is time Martell Antiques expanded across the ocean. You know our business, and your endeavor here is so charming, but really, here? A city is where you belong, not some place like this. I see great things for you in New York, with my brand name and capital behind you. You could manage it. I am negotiating the lease on the space now, and there is an apartme
nt upstairs. It would be perfect for you and Adele. I am in New York frequently, so we would see each other, often.”
So there it was. Olivier wanted to have his gateau and eat it too.
“Does Simone know about this offer?” Colleen asked pointedly.
Olivier smiled briefly, then brushed off the mention of his wife.
“This is a business deal, with perhaps, some other benefits. Simone is not part of my business. You are, however, very good at what you do. My business is not the same since you left and I would hate to see you waste your talent here.”
“So I get to be both your employee and your mistress?”
He paused, drew back as if offended by her blunt statement. She took her hands back, glad they were free.
Olivier, looked at her, considering if her words were merely part of a negotiating strategy. “Perhaps we could work out something more like a partnership. Some profit sharing, perhaps. I would of course hope that when I am in New York we could see each other outside of business.”
“So you’re bribing me?” she asked and smiled. She was starting to enjoy herself at Olivier’s discomfiture at having his offer met with resistance.
“You are the mother of my child. I want to do what’s right for you. I am offering you a chance of a lifetime. To build something.”
“But the shop wouldn’t be mine, would it?” she said, clarifying. “What happens when you get tired of me again? Or I get tired of you?”
“Tired of each other?” he said and gave a laugh as if the thought were impossible.
She waited and held her ground.
“My dear, obviously I am not tired of you. I cannot forget you,” he said, and reached out and brushed a hand over her hair.
She didn’t draw back but didn’t feel anything. Her feelings for Olivier were clinical, dispassionate almost.
“Of course, I do not know what the future will bring, at least not in affairs of the heart, but I know that I miss you, and I know you must miss me and Paris and your life there. You gave it all up. I understand you were upset, but for what? To come back to this?” He swept his arm around taking in the whole of the grand scene, the water, the coast, and even the distant lights of Queensbay. “The village is charming, quaint, I give you that, but it is no Paris, no New York. You had big, grand plans once, my dear, I saw the fire in your eyes, and now you are settling.”
“What I have done, Olivier, I have done on my own,” Colleen replied stiffly. Okay, so maybe turning Phil’s Queensbay Treasure Emporium into La Belle Vie was a far cry from what she had imagined her first store would look like, but she was slowly making it her own, on her own. Maybe she had had some help, but the help had come without strings. It had been freely given, as she thought of what her mom, Jake, Quent, Ellie, and Lydia had all done for her.
He ran a finger along the edge of her chin, lifting up her face so that she had to look at him. “Don’t tell me you have become too fond of this place already,” he said.
He made as if to kiss her, but she glanced her cheek away.
He stopped, looked at her, and then nodded. “Very well, you must think about it. I see. That is well. I will let you do so.”
She ended the night after that and had him take her home, her head thick from the champagne, her heart feeling heavy with choice.
Later, she sat on the porch, curled up in her rocking chair, her hair up, out of her fancy dress and into a t-shirt and pair of comfortable pants. A blanket covered her bare feet, as the night, clear and beautiful, had just a hint of a chill to it. It was quiet, most houses in dim darkness as their inhabitants switched off their televisions and reading lights and settled into bed.
Colleen couldn’t sleep, hadn’t been able to, though she had tried. Better to do something, so she had come outside to rock and brood. She had a cup of herbal tea, untouched. As she watched, she saw a brief flickering light in the soft darkness. She smiled. The first firefly. In a few weeks, the nighttime would be thick with them, swarms of them lighting up the trees like twinkly lights. Then the summer sounds would start: frogs, bugs, birds, and she didn’t know what else, but it would be as loud as the Champs d’Élysées at noon.
Her phone buzzed. She looked at the email, debated whether or not to open it. Olivier had titled the email “Your New Store” and attached pictures of a storefront. She could just make out the street name, recognized and knew exactly where it was in New York. Big plate glass windows, charming stone architecture. There was indeed an apartment above it. She could imagine it now, her own store in New York. What she had always wanted, far away from the quiet, soft dark that was enveloping her now. She put the phone down, breathed deeply, and watched the first firefly of the season zig zag through the night.
Chapter 57
“Did you enjoy your date last night?”
Colleen looked up in surprise. She had been a thousand miles away, true, but all of a sudden she was back in line, waiting for her coffee at the Golden Pear. Jake’s voice was loud and definitely angry. A few of the people sitting at the tables looked up. Colleen saw Darby behind the counter, the flash of reddish hair as she looked up to see what the commotion was.
“My what?”
“Your date with your ex?”
She sighed. “It was just dinner, Jake. I did tell you,” she said, and she had, trying to downplay it.
“He took you to The Lighthouse,” he said, his voice accusing, as if she had booked a trip to Cancun with him.
“He read an online review. It had five stars,” she said in exasperation. Jake stood there, big and hulking with a hurt look on his face. Colleen glanced around. People were desperately trying not to listen, but she could feel the interest crackling in the air. The downside of living in a small town.
“Can we talk about this later?”
“No, we’re going to talk about this now.”
“I don’t want to talk about it. It’s none of your business.”
“None of my business?”
“Jake, really. Olivier and I have a …”
“A child together?”
She stilled, and then saw red. “How dare you. I told you it’s none of your business,” she hissed. She could feel her face coloring as all around her people tried to pretend they weren’t listening.
“He’s no father to her. He won’t even claim her. What’d he offer you, a chance to be his mistress again? He’s never going to leave his wife.”
She wanted to hit him. She stopped herself just in time. She was trembling, and she closed her eyes, as if she could block the whole thing out. She opened her eyes, and everyone was still there, and they were definitely staring. She turned and walked out the door with as much dignity as she could muster. She kept her face set, cold and hard, until she made it into the shop. She let herself in, locked the door and let the tears come.
“I am not serving you,” Darby said. Her hands were crossed over her chest, and Jake could see she was good and mad, which was exactly how he felt as well.
“What do you mean?”
“You were way out of line, mister.”
He jammed his hands in his pocket, his right hitting the little square box he’d been carrying around for days, before Olivier had showed up. The café had settled around them a bit, but he could feel the stares.
“You just outed her baby daddy to half the town, something not even Adele knows. And you basically called her a slut. Shame on you.”
“But she can’t go back to him,” he said, his voice a furious whisper.
“You’re assuming the worst, you know. She was just in, asking about the craft and antique fair in Nattick next month, whether or not it was worth it to get a booth. Maybe she was just having dinner with an old friend. Or discussing some personal business. Like it or not, as you mentioned, he is connected to her.”
He took his hand from his pocket and ran it through his hair. “What should I do?”
“Do you really have to ask?” Darby said curtly. “But first I would tell this crew to kee
p their mouths shut.”
He looked around and nodded. He could do that.
Chapter 58
“Next,” the nurse said and smiled serenely. Colleen picked Adele up, realizing she was getting heavy as the little girl’s head fell against her shoulder. She was half asleep, poor thing. She followed the nurse down the hallway past brightly painted murals of sea animals and zoo animals and into a small room.
“The doctor will be in shortly.”
Adele whimpered, and Colleen held her close. She hated these moments, when she felt powerless to make it better. On the one hand she knew that it was probably just a fever, and that it would pass, but she needed the reassurance of a doctor’s diagnosis to know that it would be okay.
The fever had built slowly, the first signs some unusually irritable behavior, then it had been the flushed cheeks and the complaints of a sore throat. Colleen had tried cool baths, lots of water, but the fever had kept rising. She heard that something had been going around Happy Faces, that half the class was down with something. When she had checked on Adele this morning, she was burning up and listless. Colleen’s mother had suggested a trip to the clinic, just to be on the safe side and now, though Colleen knew Adele would probably be fine, she was filled with worry, the gut-chewing worry of a mother over her child.
The door opened. The doctor was younger than Colleen had expected, maybe even younger than herself. She wore light blue scrubs, with a white coat that said “Dr. Lynn.” There was a stethoscope around her neck, and her hair was pulled back in a ponytail. And, if Colleen wasn’t mistaken, there was a small baby bump hiding under the white coat.
“Hi, I’m Dr. Lynn, and who do we have here?”
Adele barely stirred at the sound of another voice.
“This is Adele,” Colleen said, “and I’m Colleen McShane.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m married to Jackson—Jake’s business partner. I’ve heard a lot about you from Jax and Jake. Nice to finally meet you. I keep meaning to get into the new shop, but there always seems to be sort of emergency.”