Todd’s text arrived as she zipped her bag up, struggling to pull the sides together. The leather holdall she’d borrowed from Bella bulged but after a thorough briefing from Bella on dress code – ‘smart, definitely smart dresses for dinner, a cover-up is fine over your suit at breakfast, bikinis are OK at lunch if you’re at a pool party and just about anything goes on the beach, although not topless’ – and a quick Google on the Hamptons, Sophie was confident that she’d packed and shopped accordingly. The second bag, with its still-warm foil-wrapped contents, she was even more confident of. It had been worth getting up an extra hour early.
Following a post-work shopping spree at Nordstrom Rack and Banana Republic, she now had the perfect capsule wardrobe which included some floral shorts, two gorgeous summer dresses, high- and low-heeled sandals as well as a vest top and two new T-shirts for the beach. Like most of her purchases, the tiny bikini had been an impulse, vanity buy.
Just because Todd was out of bounds didn’t mean she wasn’t going to feel good in what she wore. She didn’t want to let him down in front of his mother, who in her imagination was a patrician older lady, a dead ringer for Nancy Reagan or some elder states-lady.
It felt good to be getting away for a few days. Paul had popped down twice, inviting her for coffee during the week, and both times she’d blown him off citing pressure of work, which of course he was completely understanding about. She had no intention of explaining herself or letting him realise that she’d been a fool … again.
Over the last few evenings, she’d been busy helping Bella with the July Fourth cakes and proud as she was of them, she’d reached the point where she never wanted to assemble red, vanilla and blue sponges again. The fiddly cake construction had been a roaring success and once the first one had gone on display, she and Bella could barely keep up with the orders. Yup, she definitely deserved a break and with the weather forecast predicting temperatures up in the thirties, it felt like she was going on holiday.
Todd’s eyesore of a car rumbled at the kerbside as he hopped out and took her bag.
‘That all you got?’ he asked, peering beyond her as if a fleet of Louis Vuitton suitcases might come rolling out any second.
‘That’s it.’
‘Fine by me.’ He sniffed. ‘Something smells good. Bella baking already?’
Sophie nodded, not elaborating, and stowed her second bag by her feet.
‘Let’s get out of here,’ he said as she strapped herself in, ‘the traffic is hellish once you get off the highway. There are only a couple of roads in. And the train is painful. Unless you’re a Coldplay fan and you time it right and get the same train out as Chris Martin.’
‘What?’ asked Sophie, not convinced he wasn’t pulling her leg but he looked pretty serious.
‘Well, now Gwynie’s remarried, he probably doesn’t make the trip out so often, and probably by helicopter, but once quite a few years ago I caught the train and he was there, playing his guitar quietly in the corner of the carriage.’
‘Wow, that is cool. Do you actually see many celebrities out there?’
Todd lifted his shoulders. ‘There are plenty around, but the ones who don’t want the fuss act normal, and there’s a kind of code, you leave them alone. Even the paps play fair. Besides, there are plenty of wannabes who are looking for lots of attention and loving the limelight. Thankfully they tend to steer clear of the beach, and stick to the pool parties.’
‘I thought that’s where Mr Man About Town would want to be?’ teased Sophie. ‘I’m sure an armful of bikini-clad babes would be a good look on you.’
‘Why don’t I think that’s a compliment, English?’ He poked at her leg.
‘Sorry, I don’t have you down as a beach bum or a surfie. You have creases down your Ralph Lauren shorts and you wear deck shoes.’
‘That’s habit and charm, my laundry lady can’t help herself,’ he said, casually easing the car into the faster stream of traffic as they headed along Atlantic Avenue. ‘I kick back when I get to the beach, I might even have a pair of denim cut-offs in there.’ He indicated the horribly expensive-looking leather bag in the back seat.
‘Oh lord, how will the beach bunnies cope?’
He grinned at her. ‘I’m sure I don’t know, although one look at your legs, English, and they’ll be breaking out in hives of jealousy.’
Sophie snorted. ‘I’m not sure about that.’ Although it was nice to get a compliment.
‘Although I’m dying to see these famous wonky boobs of yours.’
‘I so wish I’d never told you that.’ She shut her eyes, wincing, but he laughed and flicked on the radio. ‘Fancy some music?’
For the next mile they squabbled light-heartedly about their respective music tastes. When Sophie said that her favourite bands were Wolf Alice and London Grammar as well as singers like Sam Smith and Rag N Bone Man, she knew that Todd would have a comment to make.
‘I’d have had you down for up-beat Jess Glynn, Megan Trainor kind of stuff,’ said Todd. ‘You’re the original sunshine girl.’
‘Just goes to show, I have hidden depths,’ she said smartly. ‘Whereas you have Foo Fighters written all over you.’
‘Really. No hidden depths here at all?’ Todd pouted with toddler cuteness that made Sophie laugh.
‘None.’
‘Sure?’ he asked, the pet lip trembling now.
‘One hundred per cent certain.’
He sighed with mock pain. ‘English, you wound me.’
‘Good. Although this track is quite good, I don’t mind a bit of Muse.’
They drove for little over an hour, before Todd said, ‘Fancy a break? A walk on the beach before we try and find breakfast?’
Sophie stretched, already feeling a bit stiff. ‘That would be great. And,’ she gave him a slightly smug and very triumphant smile, ‘I brought breakfast. A flask of coffee and … home-made cinnamon rolls, baked this morning.’
‘No way! English, I might just have to marry you.’
‘The last man that said that to me turned out to be married already.’ Sophie turned her head to look out of the window, grateful for Todd’s timely reminder. James, Paul, Todd – they were all as bad as one another. Commitment-shy in different ways.
He turned off the highway and they followed signs to Jones Beach Island. She was following their route on her iPhone on the maps app and could see that it was a long narrow island with a beach running the whole length and a road running straight down the middle. She felt slightly disappointed, there was absolutely nothing to see, just black tarmac that seemed to stretch forward in a dead-straight line, with signs announcing less than romantically named Fields.
They parked in something called Field Six, the most enormous car park off the highway.
‘It’s early yet. By 10 a.m. this car park will be filling up. We’re only twenty miles from New York, it gets pretty busy out here.’
She grabbed her bag. A stiff sea breeze tossed at her curls, pushing them into her face, bringing the slight taste of salt on the air. Dragging in a hefty lungful, she stood for a second, closing her eyes while she savoured the fresh bite of the wind and the warm sunbeams on her face.
Low-level utilitarian buildings fronted the beach. It wasn’t pretty in any way.
Todd caught her scrunching her face in disappointment and tapped her playfully on the tip of the nose. ‘I know, but it’s the first ocean stop. I get my first fix here. When we get out along the beach away from here, you’ll see. It stretches for miles.’
As they rounded the squat concrete buildings, the beach opened out, the sea quite some distance away. Todd took her bag and slung it over his shoulder as they ploughed through the sand down towards the sea.
The rolling walk, sinking and sliding across the beach, took a while and Sophie’s muscles started to ache by the time they reached the damper and much easier-to-walk-on sand. It wasn’t nine yet but there were already a couple of families that had set up camp for the day. Umbrellas up, rugs out and cool boxes no doubt laden with supplies. The white lifeguard tower was manned and a large American flag flew from the top, the stars and stripes flapping in the brisk wind.
Sea spray peppered the air as the waves rushed in and out, foaming white. Sunlight danced and glinted off the waves as far as the eye could see. A few threadbare clouds were strewn across the sky, teased apart like candyfloss, the sort that would be long gone by the time the sun reached its peak.
There was something about sea air, thought Sophie, taking in a deep breath. Immediately you felt soothed. Maybe it was the constant rhythm of the sea, the somnolent inevitability of wave after wave rolling in and sucking the last one away. Or maybe it was the crash of the breaking waves before the gentle lapping as the spent water ran up the sand. Or perhaps the plaintive cries of the gulls wheeling overhead.
They walked in silence, both carrying their shoes in their hands until they had the beach to themselves.
In complete accord they sat down on the drier sand, on Todd’s windcheater (she would have called it a waterproof), side by side, their thighs touching. Sophie took the bag from Todd, offered him the flask and two cups while she unwrapped the cinnamon rolls and opened the paper around them like a plate and put it on the sand.
Todd handed her a steaming plastic cup of coffee and chinked his against hers. ‘Cheers.’
She nodded towards the pastries. ‘Breakfast.’
He took one with a crooked smile, munching and looking out to sea while perching the edge of his coffee cup on his bent knee.
It was a perfect moment. Quiet companionship. Good coffee. Food. No demands on their time. No need to be anywhere, no pressure to talk, to be anything but herself. There was something special about Todd’s company, he seemed to have an innate ability to know when to tease, when to talk, when to be serious and when not to say anything at all. It probably came from the fact that he was comfortable in his own skin. He seemed to know who he was. Sophie had thought she’d got it all taped and now she questioned her own judgement, which had turned out to be incredibly bad.
‘You’re pulling faces, English,’ observed Todd quietly, and she turned to find his face inches from hers, the blue eyes earnest and steady. ‘You alright?’
‘Yes. Just lost in thought for a second.’
‘They looked like they weren’t the best thoughts. Anything to do with Mr Married?’
Sophie held his gaze and frowned at him, still trying to figure him out. ‘You’re actually very perceptive, aren’t you?’ she asked.
His blue eyes skated away towards the sea.
‘And nothing like the shallow socialite you pretend to be.’
She watched his profile carefully as he carried on gazing out over the waves, noticing how his Adam’s apple dipped slightly. ‘For someone who’s supposedly out with a different girl every night, at a new bar opening every other evening and partying hard every weekend,’ she gentled her voice, making it sound less accusatory, ‘you seem to be able to drop things very easily whenever Bella needs help, or to show me around Brooklyn.’ He was, she realised with a warm glow in her chest, a very kind man and, judging by the way his lips suddenly compressed together, not very comfortable acknowledging it.
‘Why is that?’
He took her hand and laced his fingers through hers and put them on his knee.
‘Don’t go thinking I’m a good guy. I’m not. Bella’s family. And by extension, you are. You’ve been good to her and I’d do anything to help Bella. When we were kids, she was my best bud. I’m good at being the party animal, I enjoy the clubs, the bars, the restaurants and I get paid for writing about them. It’s a great job but … after a while, it’s the same old, same old and it is a job. And you, well … you never give me an inch.’ He turned to face her. ‘Without sounding … you know … girls tend to … I’m not complaining – I got damn lucky with the genes, but that’s all some people see. Hell, I can’t believe I’m even saying this … eye candy. Those girls don’t know the real me. Nice as they are. You,’ he smiled at her, a proper smile that met his eyes and turned her to mush, ‘you treat me like a real person. I like you, English. When we went to Onyx that night, I realised … we’re friends.’
Friends. Sophie ignored the quick pang she felt and gave him a big smile as if that was the best news she’d heard all week. Then he went and spoiled things by leaning toward her and giving her a feather-brush of a kiss on the very corner of her mouth. As he pulled back the warmth in his eyes set off a slow burn, heat radiating from the inside out, but she kept the serene, smiling, we’re-just-friends expression on her face, while inside her heart took up some serious gymnastic rhythms. ‘I really enjoy being with you … it kind of feels like I can be me. I never have to think about what I’m saying. It’s easy being in your company.’
‘Amy always sounded nice,’ said Sophie, conscious of the tingling of her skin where his lips had left the whisper of a touch and the weight of his hand on her thigh, with his fingers wrapped around hers.
‘Yeah, nice but …’ he pulled a face, ‘how do I say this without sounding like a complete ass? She’s nice but insubstantial. Conversation stops at what do you do for a living, where do you come from? She would never tease me about my harem. Or …’ his eyes twinkled, ‘threaten me with her washing.’
Todd took another bite of his cinnamon roll and waved it at her. ‘These are amazing.’
‘And you’re changing the subject.’
He shot her his irrepressible grin, a hint of naughtiness playing around his mouth. ‘I always pay my debts. Happy to get my hands on a lady’s panties anytime.’
A flood of relief filled her as the mood lightened and she poked him in the ribs, retorting, ‘And you’re all talk. When was the last time you actually …?’ her voice trailed away as she realised that perhaps she’d strayed over the personal line.
‘Been a while, English. Been a while.’
‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have …’ Sophie flushed scarlet. What was she thinking?
‘No sweat.’ With a lift of his shoulders, he turned his head away, looking out towards the sea before saying quietly, ‘I’m not quite the horn dog that everyone in the office thinks.’
‘They don’t—’
‘Yeah they do.’ He turned his head quickly, his eyes suddenly serious, boring into her.
‘Well, you do rather cultivate it,’ she said, wincing at her bluntness, but she realised she felt irritated with him. ‘Why do you?’
He shrugged. ‘People believe what they want to, it doesn’t take much to lead them. It’s only because you actually took the time to talk to Amy and co., that you realised it isn’t what it seems. The rest of the office believe I’m playing the field. Especially Madison. I tell you, she’s put some work into those come-to-bed eyes. If I weren’t a gentleman I’d have a free pass there. I tick all the right WASP boxes for her and her daddy.’
‘White Anglo-Saxon Protestant?’
‘That’s the baby. Her daddy knows my daddy, so that makes me perfect boyfriend material.’
‘Nothing to do with your hot bod and movie-star good looks, then?’ Sophie tilted her head to one side with a quick teasing smile to make it quite clear that she was joking and had definitely not noticed said hot bod or perfectly put-together face.
‘Why, thank you, ma’am, but no. She’s on the lookout for a husband from the same socio-economic background.’
‘Potentially a marriage made in hell,’ said Sophie, thinking of her father and his first wife who’d definitely married him for his title, his stately pile and precious little else.
‘You’ve met my parents,’ quipped Todd, and for a second they shared a rueful look before lapsing into thoughtful silence. ‘Sorry, I should have warned you. They’re … kind of hard work.’
A seagull swooped nearby, making them both start, and Todd protectively snatched up the rest of his pastry. ‘Did you really make these? They’re delicious.’
‘Yes. I went to Copenhagen and learned from an expert.’
Telling him all about her trip to Denmark the previous year sparked an easy segue into an exchange of European countries they’d each visited. Swapping stories, they fell into their usual easy banter and Sophie was laughing so hard at his tale of finding himself in a brothel in Paris that Todd had to pull her to her feet when they decided to head back onto the highway.
Sophie’s eyes widened, it was almost as if they’d passed an invisible barrier. Suddenly the houses were prettier and the countryside seemed to have been tamed into well-pruned precision.
She knew it was a wealthy area, but that knowledge didn’t prepare her for the astonishing number of Porsches and Range Rovers, which made the many BMWs and Mercedes look commonplace. When she commented, after spotting her third Ferrari, Todd laughed.
‘Welcome to the Hamptons.’
He suggested they took a detour from the highway and they drove through Southampton along Main Street where she stared through the window. It was as if the pages of a glossy magazine had come to life in super 3D, everything perfect and bright under a brilliant blue sky and a blazing sun. Even the people walking along the pavements, swinging handfuls of expensive-looking shopping bags, were beautifully tanned and impeccably dressed in a uniform of coloured shorts and smart white polo shirts and designer loafers.
As they drove out through a residential area, the houses were all immaculate, many with white wooden trim surrounding windows and doors, highlighting traditional grey-painted clapboard walls. Nearly every garden was manicured to within an inch of its life with lush, rolling, green lawns, abundant window baskets which co-ordinated perfectly with the paintwork, and sculpted shrubs lining the gravel drives behind the gated entrances.
‘It’s another world,’ said Sophie, wide eyed, trying to take it all in and decide whether she loved it or whether it was a little bit too perfect in an unreal Disney sort of way. ‘Very different from Brooklyn.’
‘Wait until you see the beach.’
Finally, they came to Amagansett, equally pretty but a little less designer than its earlier neighbours, and at last they turned into a road called Further Lane and Todd pulled into a gap in the sleeping-beauty-proportioned hedge, where two huge oak gates punctuated the entrance like solemn sentries. He punched a code into the intercom on the driver’s side and the gates rolled open with portentous slowness and silence. The wide drive wound through immaculately trimmed shrubs to arrive at a turning circle that was the size of an average garden in front of an imposing house.
Todd gave her an anxious look when she didn’t say anything.
‘Maybe I should have given you a heads up,’ he said.
‘Maybe you should. But it’s OK, I know which cutlery to use and how to address the butler.’
Todd let out a relieved laugh and patted her on the knee. ‘I knew I could count on you, English. You take it all in your stride.’
Todd parked next to a convertible Porsche which had its roof down. As he pulled up alongside it, Sophie immediately remembered the first time she’d seen his car.
‘You’re not really going to leave it here, are you?’ asked Sophie, amusement sparkling in her eyes.
‘Why not?’
‘You know why not.’ She gave his petulant scowl a reproving look. ‘You’re better than that.’
‘Am I?’
‘Yes. And you’re not six years old. Park this heap with all the other cars. I’m presuming there’s some enormous garage somewhere.’
‘Ooh, I love it when you get all English and school-marmy.’
She simply gave him ‘the look’ over the top of her sunglasses and waited until, with a dejected huff, he turned on the ignition and drove the car around to the back of the house where there was a carport filled with flashy motors.
As they walked towards the house to a side entrance, Todd suddenly grabbed her wrist and wrapped his fingers through hers, pulling her to a stop. ‘Promise you won’t judge me after you’ve met this lot.’ The low, urgent tone made her heart ache.
Although he wore sunglasses, she could tell by the set of his face that he looked unhappy and uncertain. There was a wary stillness about him as if he were afraid of her bolting.
Remembering his earlier easy kiss of friendship, she reached up and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek.
‘I promise.’
His mouth relaxed and with a quick squeeze of her fingers, he dropped her hand. ‘Right then, into the fray. Let the fun begin.’
Carrying their bags, they walked along a short corridor which opened out into a gracious, airy entrance hall taken up with a beautiful, dark, wide-planked staircase, tastefully covered in a narrow cream carpet held in place with gleaming brass stair-rods. The polished chestnut wood of the banister shone with the glossy hue of conkers, making Sophie smile. It was the sort of banister that cried out for small boys to slide down and come flying off the end.
‘What?’ asked Todd.
‘Nothing,’ said Sophie, all innocence. ‘I was wondering if you ever slid down.’ She nodded to the glowing woodwork.
‘A time or two … when no one was looking.’
They shared a conspiratorial smile as he stopped at the bottom of the stairs, putting his hand on the carved end of the banister.