Chapter Twenty
Teddy
The second story featured a long gallery of expensive artwork and creepy, ancestral portraits. I normally avoided it at all costs because the scowling faces of my family put me off. I used to imagine they all whispered about the little, illegitimate boy who didn't belong. Now that everyone knew, I didn't care what the portraits whispered anymore.
In fact, I knew if I stayed in the house any longer that I would start having whole conversations with the artwork. The only problem was there was only one place I wanted to go.
Plus, the gallery had large picture windows overlooking the gardens and lawns. It made it easier to see all the way over to Kiara's cottage, and I watched as two cabs departed within minutes.
Vincent Jeffry gasped, and the undignified sound was the only reason I smiled. "Didn't mean to scare you," I told him.
"You're not often in the habit of visiting the portrait gallery." Vincent Jeffry tugged his uniform jacket back into place. "Is there something I can help you with, sir?"
"Have you been to visit your friend, Ms. Davies, lately?"
Vincent Jeffry slipped out of the awkward spot with his normal dry sarcasm. "My job doesn't leave much time for visiting, sir."
"Feeling overworked?"
My butler's face changed, and he drew himself up taller. "No, sir. In fact, I was seeking you out to make sure I have not missed an event on the calendar. There seems to be nothing this week."
"That's right," I said. "No guests. Looks like the party has moved on."
"And will you be moving on as well, sir?" He stood ramrod straight with his hands behind his back, but there was an earnest worry on his face that betrayed his formal pose.
"I'm under house arrest, or didn't my father tell you?" I clapped Vincent Jeffry on the back and walked with him towards the grand staircase. "My father has very strongly suggested that I excuse myself from society while all the rumors run rampant."
My butler nodded. "They will run out of energy and be forgotten."
"I'm sorry, my friend, but you no longer work for the most eligible bachelor/playboy billionaire. Like my father, I'm being forced into early retirement," I said. "I will be staying in tonight and do not expect any guests."
Vincent Jeffry started to descend the stairs, but stopped when I turned back to the second story gallery windows. He cleared his throat. "Sir?"
"I'm fine."
He paused and weighed his next words very carefully. "Would you like me to inquire about Ms. Davies?"
I shook my head. It was ridiculous. Here I was, holed up in a mansion like some character out of a Bronte novel. Kiara didn't need that. She deserved better. It didn't help that when I had that generous thought, I immediately pictured Roger Dallas kissing the back of her hand. The flare of jealousy and prodding competitiveness was a welcome change from my inertia.
"She's gone. I know it."
Vincent Jeffry gave me a puzzled look and then nodded. "Anything special you would like for dinner, sir?"
"Something easy. Order a pizza," I said.
My butler looked horrified, and it was suddenly very funny. Everything I craved reminded me of Kiara. There was no way around it. I had to get her back.
I was set up on an antique settee that I had dragged to the corner of the ballroom. A fire blazed in the oversized fireplace near me and offered the only light in the cavernous room. It was stark, but it was the perfect set up for me. I paced around the glossy, parquet floor when I needed to think, and flopped on the crushed-velvet settee when I got discouraged. And in between, I peered into darkness in the hopes that Kiara's cottage lights would come on.
Vincent Jeffry found me there an hour later. He carried in an elegant stand and silver tray, set it up, and placed a heaping plate of pizza slices on top of it. "I took the liberty of opening a red wine for you, sir."
"Thanks," I said. "Hey, wait, could you do me another favor? Could you look out that window and tell me if you see lights on in the Davies' cottage?"
Vincent Jeffry gave me a long look.
"I'm not going crazy; at least, I don't think I am. I see a light over there, but it'd be great if you told me it was real or not."
He went to the window while I took a bite of pizza. I could see my butler's stern reflection in the glass, and he studied me before deciding what to say. "The only thing I know is that the twins have left school and are living in the cottage."
"And her father and brother have gone back to work," I said. I swallowed and laughed at my butler's cocked eyebrow. "I'm not a stalker. Mr. Davies stopped by before he left."
"Very good, sir," Vincent Jeffry said.
"It's all right," I called when he had traversed the entire ballroom and gotten to the door. "I know you're holding out on me, but it's because you're a good friend."
His long legs covered the distance in seconds. "You should call her."
I noted he had dropped calling me “sir.” I shook my head. "She doesn't want to hear from me. I made a mess of her life and then I did the same to my own. Not to mention my father. All I want to know is that she's doing well."
"Kiara is the only person who can decide if she wants to hear from you. Call her. Sir."
I laughed. "You're right. She'd be furious if she heard I was putting words in her mouth. Thank you."
The smile stayed on my face until my butler left the echoing ballroom. I took my phone out of my pocket and stared at it for a full five minutes. Then I slipped it back in my pocket and slouched down on the settee.
Kiara didn't need me, no matter how much I longed for her.
#
"I understand how expensive the parts are and that you'll have to charge me for the special orders," I repeated for the third time. "I don't care about that."
"But, Mr. Brickman, it's going to be very expensive," Old Jim said.
I raked both hands through my hair. "I know there have been rumors flying around-" Old Jim bristled, but I held up my hands and continued, "and I know you are not one to gossip, but you seem to think I'm penniless now."
"It's not that, Mr. Brickman," Old Jim said. He took off his hat and scrubbed his forehead. "It's just I don't understand why you're coming here. You've got the know-how to fix this car yourself. You can special order the parts and have them delivered to your doorstep."
I pulled a face. "I'm going crazy in that house, Jim. In fact, I'll pay rent if you let me work on it here."
He looked at my mother's ancient Mercedes again. "She's a beautiful car. Solid, but still racy."
"It was a unique and memorable family car," I said.
"A family car?" Madison and Ivy bounced out of a cab at the corner. Madison came right over and gave the car a serious assessment. "Could you paint it?"
"That color is classic," I told her.
Ivy joined her sister and patted her belly. "I bet the baby would love a bright-blue car. Don't you think it would be perfect in blue?"
"It's not for sale," Old Jim tried to tell the twins.
Madison squealed. "It's so cute! I can just see me and the baby cruising around in it."
I reached out my arms to stop both twins from diving into the driver's seat. "It's not for sale. In fact, I wouldn't even consider it unless you both took lessons on how to take care of it."
"Like change the oil? Ew," Ivy said.
Madison laughed. "Oh my God, they should totally make that into a reality show. Single mothers and poor families and people all get a car, but in order to keep it they have to learn how to fix it."
"I would totally watch that," Ivy agreed.
My arms dropped. "So, you'd be willing to learn how to take care of a car, fix it, and get your hands dirty if it meant you got to keep it?"
"In exchange for a free car?" Madison asked. "I'd even change a tire. Wait, am I supposed to do that when I'm pregnant?"
"I can change a tire," Ivy said.
The twins argued as they made their way inside the gas station to buy snacks. Old Jim and I stood next to the car in thoughtful silence. It was a tempting offer, teaching two, young women how to fix cars, but I especially liked what Madison had said. Take single mothers and families that could not afford a car, give them an old fixer-upper and teach them how to keep it running. It was charity, education, and my specialty all rolled into one.
Old Jim nodded as if he could read my thoughts. "A lot of people would benefit from that. You could buy up old, reliable cars for practically nothing and give them to families for another hundred thousand miles or so if you do it right."
My father had been calling every day asking when I was going to decide on an occupation. Now that I was strictly a rich heir and no longer the crown prince of a corporation, he demanded I find something to do to fill my time. Without the constant social-networking, jet-setting, and partying that I had done, I was equally desperate.
"Looks like I'm starting a charity," I told Old Jim. "And I'll need some help. Once you're done fixing my mother's Mercedes, that is."
Old Jim smiled. "Who says jobs are moving overseas?" he joked. "Between you and Kiara, our little stretch of Long Island is becoming entrepreneurial epicenter."
"Wait, what?" My heart stopped beating. I caught Old Jim's shoulder and asked again. "What did you say about Kiara?"
He gave me a knowing look, then peeled off his hat and feigned innocence. "You haven't heard? She's started one of those, what do they call it? Cottage industries. It started with a line of pasta sauces, but I've heard it's grown since."
"She did it," I said. "Her own cottage industry. Wait. Does that mean she's at her cottage?"
Old Jim smothered another knowing smile. "She moved out of her apartment a while back and into the cottage full time. Guess it just made sense."
Ivy and Madison reappeared and came over to coo at my mother's car again. Before they could ask to buy it again, I interrupted them. "Kiara's started an online sauce company?"
Madison blinked away sudden tears. "Sorry, hormones," she sniffled.
"Thanks to our social media marketing, her brand is really taking off," Ivy said.
"You didn't know?" Madison snuffled. "This whole time, you thought she was back in Brooklyn?"
"Come on, Madison, we've got to go." Ivy tugged her sister towards the waiting cab.
I was halfway into the driver's seat of my mother's old Mercedes when I realized that Old Jim was smiling down at me. "Sorry," I said. "We'll talk more. I've got to, um, go."
"Good luck." The old man winked.
I wanted to drive directly to Kiara's cottage, but the cab beat me there. I could see Ivy and Madison unloading a trunk of baby toys, and I had no choice but to drive past. Kiara was busy with her successful, online business and her stepsister's pregnancy. How could I burst in and expect her to still want to talk to me?
I hadn't approached her before because I felt like I had nothing to give. Now, with the idea of a charity bursting out of my head, I felt like I had something to show her. Kiara deserved more, and I wanted to be more for her.
"If not now, then when?" I asked myself out loud.
My mother's old Mercedes coughed, lurched, and coasted to a stop. I turned the key, but there wasn't a flicker of power anywhere on the dash board, and then engine didn't turn over. It was completely dead.
"So, it's now," I said.
The car stalling seemed like a direct sign from my mother, so I jumped out of the car and started walking. There was a path down to the ocean, and I knew it was fastest way to reach Kiara's cottage. I climbed over the sand dune and raced down the path.
I was going full speed when I came around a tall dune and knocked right into Kiara. She tipped back into the sand, and I dropped down on my knees next to her.
"Are you all right? I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to run into you. I mean, I was coming to look for you, but-"
Kiara blinked at my rapid-fire babbling. She sat up and caught my hand. "You're not in Europe."
I laughed, thrilled to be touching her again. "Do you really believe every rumor you hear?"
She blushed. "There was one I liked."
"The one where I was sold to a foreign princess?"
She shook her head, but didn't move to get up from the sand. She took my other hand as if she couldn't believe I was real. "The rumor that you did it all for a woman you'd fallen madly in love with."
I shook my head. "Sorry, that one's not true, either."
She pulled back and narrowed her eyes. "So, you were just running along this path for fun. That makes sense. Seeing as you're wearing a sport coat."
I pulled Kiara to her feet and held on. "The rumor said I did it all for a woman I loved. The truth is that I didn't do enough."
Her eyes reflected the shining ocean. "I think you might have just missed one small thing."
I nodded and wrapped her close in my arms. "I never told you I loved you. I love you. I love you."
I would have kept saying it until the sun went down, but Kiara encircled my neck with her arms and stopped me with a kiss.