With his eyes drinking everything in about the place, his father relaxed, a soft smile playing around his mouth as he unbuttoned his suit jacket and slid onto a stool beside Vaughn at the bar.
Cooper walked behind the counter, eyeing them with amused speculation. “Anyone ever tell you, you two look exactly alike?”
“All the time.” William grinned and clapped Vaughn on the shoulder. “I passed on good genes.”
Vaughn caught Cooper’s grin and grunted.
Laughing, William turned back to Cooper. “You’ve got a nice place here. Real nice. Reminds me of my local bar back home in Augusta.”
“You’re from Maine?”
“Yes. Born and raised and the family goes back a couple of generations in Augusta. My dad was a postal worker from a long line of postal workers.”
Cooper raised his eyebrows.
Vaughn was proud of what his father had accomplished. “Dad started with nothing. Put himself through college on scholarship, made smart investments, worked his ass off, and is now one of the biggest real estate and construction giants in New York.”
“I knew the real estate giant part, but I just assumed you were a blue blood,” Cooper said. “That’s impressive.”
Like always William Tremaine shrugged off the praise. “I worked hard and got some good breaks.”
“Still impressive. I know how hard it is just to run a bar, never mind an empire.”
“On that note, we’ll have two scotch on the rocks,” Vaughn said.
“Vaughn told me on the way over how you turned this place around,” his dad said as Cooper got them their whiskey. “It’s not easy to do. Bar and restaurant statistics for failure in the first years are grim.”
“Like you said . . . it’s all about hard work.”
“And you have a wife? Kids?”
Cooper grinned, a full, smug, big grin. “Girlfriend.”
William chuckled at his expression. “She must be something special.”
Dr. Jessica Huntington was definitely something special. Cooper was a lucky man. Unlike Tom Sutton, Cooper knew it.
“She’s the one,” Cooper admitted with ease. Most men he knew back in Manhattan would never dream of sharing those kinds of feelings. His longtime friend Oliver Spence would balk at the entire concept of thinking of a woman as “the one.” Oliver had been engaged more times than Vaughn could count and Vaughn suspected he’d cheated on every single one of those women. No. Oliver and his crowd were unable to say shit like “she’s the one.” And Vaughn had to admit he admired Cooper for his ability to be so honest.
William scrutinized Cooper, and Vaughn could tell his father liked what he saw. “It’s a rare thing to find. ‘The one.’ Hold on tight.”
Cooper shot Vaughn a look, having heard the story of his mother’s death during one of those times he’d trusted the man enough to confide elements of his personal life to him.
“Okay, I’m done listening to you two wax poetic.” Vaughn took a sip of his scotch. “What else is new, Lawson?”
And just like that the grin was wiped off Cooper’s face. “You’ll hear it sooner or later . . . Tom cheated on Bailey. She walked in on them last night. Apparently, she wasn’t quiet about confronting them at his place, so it’ll be all over town by the end of the day.”
Vaughn almost choked on his second sip of scotch. His body locked up on him, and despite the burn of the whiskey in his chest, he felt strangely cold all over.
“Say that again.”
“That asshole cheated on Bailey with some twenty-three-year-old girlfriend of a colleague. She walked in on the two of them fucking on his goddamn couch last night.”
His heart started to pound hard in his chest and he had to fight down the urge to get off his stool and hunt that asinine little prick down.
What kind of moron cheated on Bailey?
Bailey.
Christ.
She and Tom had been together a long time. How the hell would she cope? He didn’t like the thought of Bailey falling apart. As strong and outspoken as she was Vaughn knew she hid her vulnerabilities.
Then a thought occurred to him and his blood turned hot. “She isn’t going to stay with the idiot, is she?”
The idea that she might stick with Tom ignited a need to throw his glass of scotch at something or someone. And yet at the same time he wanted Cooper to say, “Yes. They’re going to work through it.” He hated the thought of Bailey giving the bastard another shot because she had to know she deserved better than that, but at the same time he hated the idea that Tom Sutton no longer existed as a barrier between “Vaughn and Bailey.”
“Vaughn and Bailey” would only lead to a hurt Bailey and a fucking messed-up Vaughn.
“No. This is Bailey we’re talking about. That woman practically invented the concept of loyalty. She’s finished with him. I say good riddance.”
Relief and fear mingled as he looked at the ice melting in his glass. “Is . . . How is Bailey coping?”
He could feel his father’s curious eyes on his face.
“She’ll be fine. The girls will take care of her.”
“And you?”
Cooper frowned at him. “What?”
“You’ll take care of her, too?” It would ease his mind to know Cooper had her back. “In case Tom gives her any problems.”
As always the bar owner saw too much, and he gave Vaughn a knowing smile. “Sure thing, Tremaine.” And then . . . “I guess Jess was right after all. Not that I’ll tell her that. Damn woman thinks she’s right about everything.”
“What are you talking about?”
Cooper laughed and walked down the bar to clean up an imaginary spillage.
Vaughn stared after him, in that moment wishing he’d never let his guard down with the man or his too-smart-for-her-own-good doctor girlfriend.
“So . . .” his father drawled at his side. “Who’s Bailey?”
“I find it strange that you don’t want to tell me anything about this woman,” William said as they walked out of Cooper’s twenty minutes later.
If his father had been pestering him about any other woman he would have laughed. It was like he was fifteen all over again. His dad had walked in on him getting to second base with Jillian Grace, a girl in the class above him at their prep school, and he’d amused himself by peppering Vaughn with annoying and embarrassing questions all night.
“There’s not a lot to tell.” Vaughn tried not to sound exasperated. “And I thought you might want a coffee to wash down the scotch.”
“Yes, it was a bit early for that.” William buttoned his suit jacket as he followed Vaughn toward Emery’s.
“This place does great cappuccinos. Be warned, the owner is very socially awkward,” Vaughn said. “Beautiful woman. Independently wealthy. Atrocious at talking to men—crippled by inexplicable shyness. It’s a shame.”
“Because otherwise you would have added her to your repertoire of bedmates?”
He smirked, just to be annoying. “Probably.”
“Obviously you’ve not had this Bailey Hartwell in your bed. I’m guessing by her name she’s a member of the founding famil—wait a minute. Is this the woman that tried to postpone your plans for building the hotel?” William stopped just outside Emery’s.
“Yes. When she saw the architect’s drawings she campaigned with the new mayor to have the plans relooked at. But they’d already been passed by the planning council under the last mayor’s purview so there was nothing they could do. Except stir up animosity from the locals. Which was fun for me.” He remembered the trouble Bailey had caused. Once the hotel was up and time had passed, that animosity had waned, but no thanks to the mouthy redhead who fired up his blood beyond reasoning.
“I remember.” William nodded. “She sounds spirited.”
“That’s not the word I wo
uld use,” Vaughn muttered, pushing open the door to the coffeehouse.
He came to an abrupt halt at the sight of Bailey leaning across the counter, laughing with Emery.
One, he was surprised to see her. Two, he was surprised to see her laughing considering she’d just been betrayed by the man she loved.
His dad bumped into him. “Jesus, Vaughn, what—” His father peered past him to the two women at the counter. “Oh. Well, yes, those two are definitely stop-you-in-your-tracks-worthy.”
Ignoring that comment Vaughn moved cautiously toward the counter. All of a sudden he didn’t know how to act around Bailey. She straightened up at his approach, watching him with a narrowed green-gold gaze filled with the usual suspicion she felt toward him. There were dark circles under her eyes, but that was the only sign that something might be amiss. In fact she looked remarkably well for a woman whose ten-year relationship had just come to an end.
“Miss Hartwell. Miss Saunders.”
Emery gave him a flustered half smile, half nod.
“This is my father, William Tremaine. Dad, this is Bailey Hartwell; she owns Hart’s Inn at the end of the boards, and Emery Saunders owns this establishment.”
His dad held out his hand first to Bailey and then Emery. Bailey raised an eyebrow (Vaughn assumed at his father’s congeniality) but she shook his hand. Emery flushed bright red as she shook his father’s hand and refused to meet his eyes as she murmured, “Hello.”
William grinned harder at her shyness. “You have a lovely property, Miss Saunders.” He glanced around at the feminine, cozy bookstore and coffeehouse. The coffeehouse and its shy owner had a way of making a man fully aware of his masculinity. Vaughn always felt too large, too alien in the pretty store. To some men, like Cooper who had expressed his discomfort around Emery, that was off-putting. Not to Vaughn, and he imagined not to some others. In a way both Emery and her place were altogether alluring in their utter femininity and mystery. If he were a different man who wasn’t encumbered with a debilitating fear of commitment or an annoying infatuation with a certain redhead, Vaughn might have tried to draw Emery Saunders out of her shell.
And he had no doubt there were other men who would feel that compulsion. Vaughn just hoped when the time came it wasn’t a man who would use her to get to the considerable wealth she’d inherited from her grandmother—information that was for now only known among the trusted community of the owners of boardwalk businesses. Unfortunately, it was also known by the Devlin family, which had researched Emery when she inherited the property on the boardwalk, property that was part of a number of investments her grandmother had made over the years.
Ian Devlin and his sons hadn’t tried playing mind games or using underhand tactics in order to gain her property as they had done with Cooper and Bailey in the past. In fact Emery wasn’t even aware the Devlins had looked into her when she took over the place. But Vaughn was aware, and he was keeping an eye on the situation.
Emery Saunders was vulnerable.
And he didn’t like that she had no family watching her back.
“Thank you.” Emery’s quiet reply was a vast improvement considering it involved actual words, and Vaughn wondered if Bailey was partly responsible for helping Emery gain some social confidence.
William smiled at Bailey. “So, Miss Hartwell. I hear you’re keeping my son on his toes while I’m not around to do it.”
Bailey’s eyes widened in surprise as Vaughn inwardly groaned.
“I don’t know about keeping him on his toes but I certainly try to deflate his ego when I can.” She smiled.
Bailey Hartwell had the most stunning smile of any woman he’d ever met. It was full and glamorous and completely spellbinding.
Vaughn felt a spike of envy toward his dad and shook his head in disbelief.
William laughed. “Glad to hear it. I saw your inn when I took a walk on the boards early this morning. It’s beautiful.”
One tiny compliment and Bailey blossomed, preening under the praise. “Thank you. That’s very kind of you.” Her eyes narrowed as she looked between father and son. “If you two didn’t look so damn alike I would question the relation.”
While his dad laughed, Vaughn squirmed, fighting the urge to respond in turn. He had to remember she was going through something traumatic and he had to be extra careful of her feelings.
Bailey seemed surprised by his lack of response. “Are you on your best behavior in front of your father or is something else going on?”
“Excuse me?” He feigned polite ignorance.
Her features tightened, her pretty lips pressing into thin, hard lines. When she did that it made him want to kiss them to soft and full again. He jerked his gaze from her mouth only to meet his father’s stare. A stare that was bright with curiosity and speculation.
“Someone told you, didn’t they? About my breakup with Tom. Was it Cooper? Well, he probably realized that it would be all over town by the end of the night anyway. So yes. I broke up with Tom because I found him in nothing but dirty socks, rutting with a twenty-three-year-old.”
And that was just like Bailey to ignore social decorum and put the upsetting business of her breakup, and the circumstances of it, out there. Vaughn’s dad was hiding a smile, apparently amused by her candidness.
Vaughn cleared his throat, not knowing whether to laugh, strangle her, or pull her into his arms. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
Bailey raised an eyebrow as if to indicate, Yeah, right.
“Breakups are difficult,” his dad said. “I’m sorry to hear you’re going through that, Miss Hartwell.”
Like most women who met William Tremaine, Bailey melted under the blast of his warm charisma. “Thank you. And please call me Bailey.”
“Then call me Liam,” he returned.
Kill me now, Vaughn thought. As much as he didn’t want any kind of congenial relationship with Bailey he had to admit it stung more than a little that upon meeting him she took an instant dislike to him, but upon meeting his father she treated him with the same friendly warmth she did everyone else.
“Liam it is then.”
“I hope you’re doing okay,” his dad continued.
Since Vaughn wanted to know the answer to that he didn’t interrupt and demand two coffees to go from Emery like he probably should have.
“I am, thank you.” She slumped against the counter. The seriousness of the new subject seemed to drain her. “The change is hard. We were together ten years. But . . . we weren’t right for one another.” She gave his dad a sad smile that Vaughn felt deep in his chest. “It’s kind of a relief actually.”
Not for the first time Vaughn marveled at Bailey’s ability to wear her emotions on her sleeve for all to see. He admired and feared it.
He was also amazed by how calm she was about her breakup with Tom. There was no way she could really be that calm. Perhaps she was in denial. The hysterics would come later.
He winced thinking of what he’d gone through with Camille.
“It’s still fresh. That relief will change to loss,” he found himself saying. “You need to give yourself time to process it.”
“Sure thing, Tremaine.” She cheekily saluted him. “Of course you know how I’m feeling better than I do. You always know better than I do, right?”
His father stared at him in amusement.
He ignored them both. “Two grande cappuccinos to go, please, Emery.”
Bailey sighed. “You’re playing nice today, Tremaine. It’s unsettling me.”
Exasperated by her and knowing exactly how he wanted to take that exasperation out on her, Vaughn couldn’t look at her for fear his father would see the lust pouring off of him. “I always play nice.” He focused on the bestseller stand behind them, pretending to peruse it. “You just take everything I say the wrong way.”
“Oh? And how should I take you
calling me mediocre?”
Guilt tightened his throat at the tiny speck of hurt he heard buried beneath her dry question. The weight of his father’s disapproval fell on him—he didn’t even have to look at him to know William didn’t like what he was hearing.
What was it about a parent’s ability to make you feel like a child again even at thirty-six years old?
He forced himself to look Bailey in the eye. “I will remind you it was in retaliation to you calling me ‘nothing.’”
Seemingly remorseful she gave him a taut nod. “You’re right. And that was wrong of me.”
“As was what I said. I shouldn’t have. It was wrong and untrue.”
Bailey was taken aback. “Apparently, Liam, you have the ability to make your son behave like a gentleman. That says good things about you.”
Vaughn knew his dad well enough to read his expression. William was unsure and confused by the dynamic between Vaughn and Bailey. “I was under the impression my son always acts like the gentleman I raised him to be.”
Vaughn shrugged, pretending to care much less than he did. “Sometimes I forget my manners. Especially when provoked.”
“And he’s back!” Bailey smirked at him, looking almost relieved. “I’ve had enough shocks for one week, Tremaine. Don’t suddenly be nice to me. You almost gave me heart failure.”
While his father laughed and talked with Bailey, Vaughn paid for the coffees and somehow managed to drag a reluctant William out of there. As soon as the door closed behind them, his dad said, “I like her a lot.”
“Miss Saunders? Yes, she’s sweet. And she makes a great coffee.” He sipped at his cappuccino.
“You know fine well I’m talking about Bailey.”
“Miss Hartwell? Really?”
“She’s got fire. Your mother had fire like that.”
Uncomfortable with the idea of his father approving of Bailey, Vaughn sought a subject change. “I was thinking of taking you to Antonio’s for lunch. We could eat at the hotel but I thought you might like something a little more down to earth. Iris and Ira own the place and the food is wonderful. The pizza is good. You like pizza.”
Every Little Thing Page 5