Summer Escape With The Tycoon. Donna Alward
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“Being a single in a group full of doubles. It seems as if we’re paired up once again.”
“I apologize.”
Her voice was soft but there was an underlying steel that made him smile. “I should be the one apologizing,” he replied, feeling a bit like a jerk. “I shouldn’t have used the word consequence. It has a negative connotation.”
And yet the correct word seemed just out of reach.
She met his gaze, and he was momentarily lost in her clear blue eyes. “I’m sure that as we go on, we’ll make friends in the group so we’re not always stuck with each other.”
As in, she was also stuck with him.
A server poured wine into Molly’s glass and she tasted it, savored and nodded. He indicated he’d have the same. The pinot blanc was buttery and with notes of pear, and while Eric tended to prefer reds, he found it really quite nice. For a few minutes they focused on filling their small plates with selections from the platters. Then Eric turned to her and offered an apology.
“I’m sorry for what I said last night. I’m still bitter from the divorce. But clearly it isn’t your fault.”
“Just people like me.”
He swallowed tightly, unsure of how to respond. She wasn’t wrong.
“Like I said last night, your lawyer should have done better for you,” she suggested, spearing an olive on her plate. “I would have.”
He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. “It wasn’t just about the money,” he said quietly. “That stings, but I’ll make it back. It wasn’t my whole fortune. Not even close, really.”
He wasn’t trying to brag; it was the truth.
She chewed and swallowed thoughtfully. “Were there significant grounds for the divorce?”
“You mean, did she catch me cheating or something?”
Molly raised an eyebrow and popped a piece of cheese in her mouth.
“No,” he answered tightly. “No, I didn’t cheat. And I don’t think she did, either. We just...didn’t suit.”
“What are you leaving out?”
Her gaze had never wavered from his face, and he realized it both put him on the spot and had the consequence of making him also feel incredibly heard. For the first time, he admitted where he’d been at fault. “She called me unavailable. As in... I work too much. That she wanted a husband, not voice mail and an empty bed.”
“And was she right?”
He took another gulp of wine, the pang in his heart a reminder of how he’d failed. He had loved her. And he’d tried to provide her with a secure life, which in the end she hadn’t appreciated. Ironic, considering she was very secure now. “She wasn’t exactly wrong about work.”
Molly sat back. “So you’re taking this vacation to...”
He stared out over the sloping vines and sighed. “Well, to unplug for the first time in years, really. It was hell not turning on my phone today.”
She laughed then, the sound brushing over him like a summer breeze. “Oh, I wish I’d had your willpower. My father called me early this morning about a case. And a chance to twist the knife a bit that I’ve abandoned the family firm.”
Eric’s mouth fell open. “By leaving for less than two weeks?”
She rolled her eyes and nodded. “I’m usually the ‘yes’ girl. I was getting tired of having my whole life planned and scheduled by someone else, so I bid on the trip.” She met his gaze again. “I was supposed to do this a month ago. Instead I had to finish up a Very Important Case.” She sipped her wine and grabbed a slice of bread. “Just so you know, they’re all Very Important Cases.”
“My deals, too. I’m in acquisitions.”
She considered a moment. “So you, what? Buy, strip and resell?”
“Pretty much.”
“You’re like that guy in Pretty Woman. He didn’t build or make anything, either.”
“I make money,” he suggested and then laughed a little at himself. “That’s why I was in Nantucket. I was working on a deal in Boston. Going to the benefit was a bit of goodwill on my part. Not that it wasn’t a good cause. And hey. It got me here, and I would have missed walking into the wrong hotel room and being flayed alive by the sharp edge of your tongue.” He gave a sideways glance. “You must be terrifying in the courtroom.”
She burst out laughing, then sighed. “Oh, I suppose I am. But it’s exhausting. It’s...a mind-set, really. I have to try really hard to leave work at work. You and I have something in common, you know.”
“What’s that?” Curious now, he leaned closer to her, and a soft floral scent reached through the other delicious aromas of the day and hit him square in the gut. She smelled so...pretty.
“We both deal with The End.” She plucked another olive and chewed it thoughtfully. “You buy up businesses in trouble. I dissolve relationships in trouble. It’s not exactly the most optimistic and hopeful occupation in the world. It can be downright depressing.”
“So why do it?”
She sat back. “Ah, now that is the question, isn’t it?” Her voice was deceptively light, and she was saved from answering when a server came out with another platter, this time with handmade fruit tarts.
They both selected a tart but he wasn’t deterred. “So why are you a divorce lawyer if you don’t like it?”
“Because I’m twenty-nine years old and a full partner,” she said, but her gaze didn’t quite meet his. She bit into the tart and crumbs went fluttering to her plate. “Why are you in your line of business?”
He looked out over the vines for a moment before turning back. “Because I joined the company right out of school and worked my way up. And then I bought it when I was thirty.”
“And that was...”
“Almost five years ago.”
He was thirty-four and what did he have to show for it? A huge bank balance but not much else. No wife, no kids... God, if he didn’t have time for a wife, how could he ever be a good father? He wouldn’t even know where to start. His own father had taken off when Eric was twelve, leaving him, his brothers and his mom to pay off the debts he’d racked up as well as paying the bills. Eric got a paper route and mowed grass until he was old enough to work. Then he got a job with a landscape company in the summer and did snow removal in the winter to help with finances. By the time he was seventeen, he was running his own crew at the company and it paid his way through university—he’d done his degree at McGill so he could stay at home and commute, saving dorm costs. His brothers had all taken similar paths. Work. Some postsecondary schooling at community college. Except they’d gone into business together, while Eric had moved on.
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