Chapter Two
Nine Years Ago . . .
I sat on the grass under a tree with my nose in a book. Day one of six weeks’ worth of the endless sounds of hammers, saws, and screwdrivers was nearly over. Not that I much minded just hanging out. After all, stuff was happening in my book. Action, adventure, romance. All of the things that so never happened in the real world.
A red flatbed truck with a toolbox on the back pulled up and I prepared myself for the next round of greetings. For six weeks every summer, it was more of the same. A mixture of “hey,” “how have you been,” and “far out, you’ve grown.” Most of the men had known me for years, so it was to be expected.
This guy, however, was new. And wow. I swear to God, he positively swaggered over to the house currently undergoing renovations. But like, not in a douchey way. How such a thing was possible, I had no idea. Truth be told, I’d never really noticed the guys working for Dad much before. They were all fit, strong blokes—and cheerful enough to crease their sun-tanned faces with a ready smile whenever the boss’s kid was around.
But Pete was something else.
One of the workers on the roof yelled out something obscene at him and the guy calmly raised his middle finger in response.
“Language!” yelled Dad, with a nod in my direction.
I hid my face in embarrassment. It sucked having to think that all the workers had to be on their best behavior because “the kid” was around.
Immediately, the guy headed my way with a broad grin. “Adele, right? Boss has been talking about your visit for weeks, getting all excited.”
News to me. I mean, Dad was okay and everything, but life for him really centered on work. Which was fine and to be expected. Mom had taken me and moved to Sydney a while back, needing her space or something. Artists really are flighty. Dad needed something in his life to fill the hole, and his business played that role just fine.
“Hi,” I said.
“Pete.” He held out his big hand for shaking.
My hand only trembled slightly. Good going on my part.
Close up, he was even more gorgeous. The most perfect blue-gray eyes and a face that firmly qualified as dreamy. A super-strong jawline and little indent in his chin. His lips. Oh my God, his lips. And all of this finished off with shoulder-length dark hair. I could only stare.
Unfortunately, he was older than me by at least a decade.
“Forgot, you two haven’t met before,” said Dad, arriving just in time to totally ruin my moment. “Sweetheart, this is Pete. The new employee I told you about. He came onboard at the start of this year. Pete, this is my daughter, Adele. She just turned sixteen.”
One way or another, my age was always mentioned in such cases. It was Dad’s not-so-subtle way of laying down the law regarding acceptable behavior around me.
“We just met.” Pete smiled.
“How’d things go at the Le’s?”
“All wrapped up. They’re happy.”
Dad clapped him on the shoulder. “Good work.”
Pete turned back to me and frowned. “Boss, you seriously making her sit around at sites?”
“What?” Dad frowned as if the thought had never occurred to him. “We’ll only be another hour here. Then I’ve got a few things to do at the office, but they shouldn’t take too long. She’s fine.”
“I’m fine,” I confirmed.
Pete just shook his head. “Come on, you must be bored shit . . . sheetless, I mean. Yeah, sheetless.”
Dad frowned some more while I laughed.
“I’m done for the day and heading to the beach,” said Pete. “Why don’t I take her with me?”
“You want to go?” Dad asked.
“Sure.” I shrugged, slipping the book behind my back. “I’m so bored I don’t have any sheets at all. Or even pillows.”
Dad’s frown deepened a little, but Pete nodded, pleased. “Good. Got some bathers or we need to pick ’em up?”
“Hang on.” Dad fished his wallet out of his back pocket, stuffing some money into my hand. This was Dad’s other thing. Shove money at the child to instantly make everything awesome. “There’s shops at the beach, right? Just buy yourself some new ones, sweetheart. A towel too, okay? Oh, and sunscreen and a hat. Here, take a bit more—you might get hungry later. Got your phone on you?”
I neatly folded the cash, putting it in the pocket of my denim cutoffs. “Yes.” Dad had brought me the phone last year, the plan presumably being that he could get in contact with me directly.
“Alright. Look after her.” Then Dad gave Pete the look. The one that promised much fatherly rage should I be returned with a single scratch on me. “Adele, don’t get sidetracked and wander off, okay?”
“I’m not four, Dad.”
“Realize that.”
I gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “See you later.”
“Come on,” said Pete with another of those smiles that turned my stomach inside out. “Let’s get out of here, kid. The waves are waiting.”
Wednesday Night . . . Now
Dinner was on the back deck.
I’d showered and changed into a sleeveless, short, black linen jumpsuit that had miraculously survived the trip without too many wrinkles. Weight I’d put on in university had never really shifted. I’d long given up fighting it and instead worked with the curves. Meanwhile, the humidity was messing with my light brown hair, so I low-ponytailed it and chucked on some hoop earrings and sandals. Minimal waterproof makeup so the heat wouldn’t sweat it off me. The look said mature and capable, while remaining casual. Or, I wanted it to. A girl can hope.
I carried my cell with me—given mobile phones were the god of distraction and especially useful for avoiding unwanted conversation. Forget manners; they meant nothing in a crisis. I picked up my phone, pretending to be busy. “Meant to ask, my reception here isn’t great. Would you mind if I grabbed the Wi-Fi password?”
The man visibly hesitated. Obviously, I could be trusted with nothing.
“I promise not to watch too much porn,” I said. “It’s just that sometimes you’re better off doing a job yourself, right?”
He gave me a sour look. “It’s written on the fridge.”
“Thank you.”
“No need to be nervous,” said Pete, handing me a beer.
“I’m not.”
He just nodded to the fingers of my free hand. Much fidgeting was indeed happening.
“Shanti’s great. I’m sure you’ll get along fine,” he said, sprawled out in one of the outdoor dining table chairs, still barefoot. He’d traded his T-shirt for a short-sleeved button-down shirt. Black. We matched. Maybe I’d gone overboard with the outfit. No, I looked fine. Everything was fine.
Tea lights flickered on the table, sitting alongside a platter of cheese and biscuits and stuff. A couple of citronella candles sat around us to dissuade the bugs from having us for dinner.
After getting the Wi-Fi password, I sat opposite him, keeping my gaze on the distant stars. Now that the sun had fully set, they were just visible above the hazy shadows of the mountains on the horizon.
“Something smells good.”
His smile remained strained. “Rack of lamb. You still eat meat, right?”
“Yes.” I took a sip of beer. “I missed your cooking.”
Nothing.
Yeah, shouldn’t have said that. Any alluding to the past was a big N-O.
“Hey!” my dad shouted from the front of the house. “We’re here.”
And then I saw it: the first real smile on Pete’s face in seven years. I hadn’t even known how much I’d missed it until I saw it again. Perfect lips wide and white teeth on display, his eyes alight with joy. With the people he loved, he held back nothing. I’d been on that select list once. Seeing him smile, it was similar to what I’d imagined getting punched in the gut would be like. Lots of pain, with little to no actual fun.
Dad stepped onto the deck, followed by an elegant dark-skinned woman in a sleek green maxi dress. Pete and Dad did the manly backslapping thing, even though they lived across the road from one another, worked together, and probably saw each other every damn day of their lives. He’d aged well, my dad. At fifty, the man was pretty much the definition of silver fox.
As Pete smacked a kiss on Shanti’s cheek, I just kind of sat there, stupidly frozen. Guess Pete had been right: I was anxious about this moment.
“Sweetheart.” Dad rounded the table, holding his arms out. “Good to see you.”
“Hi, Dad.” I stood, hugging him back. Only with a slight level of awkwardness, which wasn’t too bad for us really. We’d never been what you’d call close.
“This is Shanti.” He turned, holding a hand out to the lady. “Shanti, my daughter, Adele.”
“Finally.” Shanti smiled, enclosing me in her arms like I was something precious. A little like Mom did. Also, she had the most beautiful, husky voice.
Not that I’d had any real plans to, but disliking this woman would clearly not be an option, though I’d burnt through the childhood rage over my parents’ divorce some time ago. All the while, Dad looked on, his usually stoic face beaming. This was a new and somewhat drastic change. He’d never been quick to smile or big on happiness. Workaholics generally weren’t, in my experience. Obviously this woman had worked wonders.
“Let me get you guys some drinks,” said Pete, rubbing his hands together. “What’ll it be?”
“Wine for me, thank you.” Shanti took the seat next to mine.
“Beer,” said Dad, grabbing a seat at the head of the table. Next to his fiancée, but not quite. Face reverting to its usual serious lines, he said, “Where’s the boyfriend?”
I sat back down. “I never said I was bringing him.”
“Thought you did.”
“No.”
He cocked his head. “Huh. You mentioned you were seeing some guy; guess I just assumed. Never mind.”
I could have pointed out the mistake might be care of the fact that we rarely spoke and when we did, his mind was usually elsewhere, but glorious maturity prevailed. No need to mess with the celebratory mood. Instead, I just smiled and took another sip of beer. “How are the wedding plans going?”
“Wonderful,” said Shanti. “I’m so glad you agreed to come up early and spend some time with us. It’s beautiful here this time of year and you had to travel a long way. So why not turn it into a holiday, yes?”
Due to being slightly nervous and therefore shit at conversation, I just nodded encouragingly.
Pete handed out drinks to my dad and Shanti, and then we were making a toast to the about-to-be-married couple’s future happiness, et cetera. After this, Dad and Pete settled down to talking about work while Shanti filled me in on her interior decorating business. Dad owned a medium-sized building company. I guessed that’s how their paths had crossed. Dad’s crew handled everything from architectural masterpieces tucked away in the hillsides to renovations. He liked variety.
“Adele, did I tell you I made Pete partner a few years back?” he suddenly asked, bottle of beer in hand.
“You’re partners?” I asked, slightly startled. It was big news.
Pete gave me his best blank face. “Best way to expand the business, take on a few more jobs a year.”
“That’s great. Congratulations.”
A nod.
“Not like he hadn’t been with me long enough,” said Dad. “When did you first come on?”
“I don’t know, nine years ago?” Pete shrugged.
“You know, it seems like longer.”
“Enough business talk,” ordered Shanti, nodding at my phone. “Adele, show me a picture of this man you’ve been seeing.”
“Oh. Okay.” I flicked through the album to a selfie Deacon and I had taken on date two, figuring now wasn’t the time to reveal he was cheating on me. “Here.”
“He’s handsome.” She grinned, her thumb poised over the screen. “Are there more?”
“Not sure.” I shrugged in attempted nonchalance. Then I squirmed a little. “Maybe. Probably more of my friend and me taking stupid selfies than anything else.”
“Oh, is this her here with the gorgeous short hair?”
“Shanti, you can’t just go through someone’s phone,” chided Pete with a smile.
“There’s nothing that interesting on there,” I said, waving his concerns away. “And yes; her name is Hazel. We’ve been besties for years.”
Dad frowned. “Sure there’s nothing on there?”
“Endless nudes, Dad. Endless.” I laughed. “And all the D pictures. It’s just . . . a bad habit, I guess. But I can’t seem to stop collecting them and so many nice men are willing to send them, so . . .”
“D pictures?”
“Dick,” supplied Pete.
“Jesus.” Dad gave me a dour look. “Very funny, sweetheart.”
Shanti leaned closer with a sly grin. “Don’t worry, Adele. If I find anything, I won’t tell him.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that.”
“Idiots really send you pictures of their genitals?” asked Dad. “That happens?”
“Only the occasional complete stranger on social media.” I shrugged. “They think it’s some kind of alluring mating call, I guess. I just block them.”
“Like you want to see someone’s shriveled-up little penis and hairy balls,” said Shanti. “Yuck.”
“We need a change of conversation,” announced Dad.
Pete just blinked and shook his head. “Agreed.”
“Who’s this?” asked Shanti, angling the phone so I could see.
“Luke. I dated him last year,” I said. “He was in landscaping. Nice guy.”
She scrolled through a few more photos. Mostly of Hazel and me acting drunk and crazy, making dumb faces, as you do. Thankfully, she didn’t comment and kept going until she hit another couples shot. “And him?”
“Ah, Jonah. That was also last year.”
“What did Jonah do?”
I smiled. “Actually, he was a sculptor and potter. He had this cool studio and did shows and gave classes.”
Shanti’s brows lifted. “Interesting. Who’s this one?”
“Isaac. Personal trainer. Sweet person, but I couldn’t handle all of the fussing about food,” I explained. “Around about the time you’re saying steak has too much fat content, you’ve lost me.”
“His body does indeed look like a temple, though,” said Shanti appreciatively, still swiping.
“These people are all clothed, right?” asked Dad with a slight frown.
“Of course they’re clothed, Andrew. Don’t be silly.”
“Hmm, this one is quite handsome, Adele. And this fellow too.”
Now Dad’s expression turned more serious. “Sweetheart, how many men have you dated, exactly?”
As if I would answer such a question without first enduring at least some mild form of torture. Out of my peripheral vision, I caught Pete narrowing his gaze. He was really slipping into grumpy-old-man territory these days. Though it might just be the company he was keeping.
“You need to explore your options before you settle down.” Now it was Shanti’s turn to offer Pete some gentle chiding. “It’s only sensible. Try before you buy. How do you know what you want if you don’t experiment? Think of all those years it took me to find you.”
Dad chose not to reply.
Thankfully Shanti put down the phone. “You know, you definitely have a type, Adele.”
“Do I?”
“Oh, yes. They all have dark hair, pretty eyes, and work with their hands,” said Shanti. “Isn’t that interesting?”
“Hm.” Yeah, I had nothing to say on that topic. For someone whose background was interior decorating, she was pretty perceptive about people too.
“I always wonder where people’s tastes evolve from, don’t you?”
Silence at the table.
Pete downed more of his beer. “Seems like you keep busy, kid.”
And I didn’t want to hate him, but for that shitty comment, I kind of did. I met his flat, unfriendly stare with one of my own. “Mostly with work and friends. But I date sometimes.”
“Seems like more than sometimes.”
Like hell I’d be shamed over my dating habits.
“Thing is, Pete,” I said, “as I remember it, you used to have a pretty constant stream of women coming and going. Is that still the case?”
“She’s got you there.” Dad shifted in his seat, plastering a smile on his face. It wasn’t quite as authentic as earlier, however. “I can’t even remember their names half the damn time.”
“Your memory likely isn’t what it used to be, dear,” said Shanti helpfully. Pretty sure the woman was expert level at trolling my father. In which case, I loved her even more.
Dad just smiled. “How is work, sweetheart?”
“Fine,” I said. “It’s there.”
“You’re not enjoying it?”
I winced. The topic of work was not my favorite, but anything had to be better than further exploration of my dating history. “I have no complaints really—they pay me okay. It’ll look good on my résumé. Just been a little bored lately.”
“You run the office of an accounting firm, right?” asked Shanti. “How many staff members are there?”
“I assist the office manager. And around sixty.”
Her eyes widened. “That’s big.”
“Yes, and it’s right in the center of town, which is nice.”
“Was hoping you might be tired of the city by now,” said Dad, sitting back in his chair. The look in his eyes, I couldn’t read at all. Like he was assessing me, maybe? We usually talked every few months or so. A couple of times he’d traveled down south for business and we’d had dinner. Often enough to remain mostly strangers.
“Why?” I asked, curious.
The truth was, I’d taken two weeks off instead of just the one. I might spend the second week doing a road trip along the coast, relaxing. Or I might go straight home and start looking for another job. I hadn’t yet made a decision.
“Helga’s been talking about retiring to spend more time with her grandkids,” he said. “Thought you might like to take over the position.”
Pete stiffened. “You’re thinking of Adele to run our office?”
“More than that,” said Dad, warming to the topic. “She could help put proposals together, take over some of the liaising work with contractors and customers. Free us up more to get the real work done.”
“You’ve never mentioned anything about this.”
“We like to think of it as a family business, right?” Dad clapped him on the shoulder. “Getting her involved just makes sense. She’s a grown adult, now. Smart, capable, we can trust her, and she used to take a real interest in what was going on. Thought it would be a good idea. Don’t you?”
“This isn’t awkward at all.” Shanti sighed, placing her hand on top of my father’s. “You’re too used to being the only one in charge, Andrew. Decisions need to be shared now. Let alone just announcing this at dinner.”
Dad just shrugged. “He’ll be onboard once he thinks it over. It’s a great idea.”
Meanwhile, Pete’s lips had slammed shut.
Damn. “Dad, I appreciate the vote of confidence, but . . . I just wasn’t expecting . . .”
“You always loved it up here,” he said.
“You do?” Gaze narrowed, Shanti gave me a questioning look. “But it’s been such a long time since you visited. I’ve been waiting to meet you for years, ever since Andrew and I first started seeing one another.”
“Busy,” I said, and swallowed hard. God, I needed something much stronger than beer. “Like Pete said, just . . . really busy.”
Dad huffed out a breath and looked to heaven. “Come on, I know we were all a bit upset when that nonsense first happened. But it’s ancient history now. There’s no reason you couldn’t come back.”
“Since what happened?” asked Shanti slowly.
No one answered.
“She’s seeing someone down there. Sounds settled.” Pete’s grip on his bottle of beer was just about white knuckled. “Probably has no interest in moving.”
“If they were serious, she’d have brought him,” said Dad. Pretty damn accurately.
“What about Mom?” I asked.
“You told me she’s away painting, at her artist retreats a lot.” Dad shrugged. “She’s had you close for years and anyway, the woman likes to travel. No reason she can’t come visit you up here for a change.”
“I don’t know . . .”
“Why?” Dad pressed. “What don’t you know about? Tell me your concerns and we can sort them out one by one.”
And I didn’t look at Pete and Pete didn’t look at me. If I’d thought climbing under the table would have helped, I’d already have been on my knees. Pretty sure there was no escape hatch down there, however.
“Enough,” Shanti said in a stern voice. “Stop pushing her. But also, I hate not knowing what’s going on, and something is definitely going on here. What happened years ago? Somebody explain it to me, please.”
Jaw tensed, Pete kept his head determinedly turned away.
Dad sighed. “It was nothing really. A storm in a teacup.”
No one else said a thing.
Shanti’s eyes drilled into Dad, and he shrugged, acquiescing. “But I guess you may as well know. Adele started coming up for the summer when she was sixteen. I was usually too busy climbing over half-built houses to spend time with her. So Pete did. He started taking her to the beach with him, going to a movie now and then, stuff like that.”
“He was just being kind,” I said.
“Yes, he was. The business was growing fast and took up all of my time back then,” said Dad. “I wasn’t around as much as I should have been.”
“But you’re going to make up for that now.” Shanti squeezed his hand and Dad meshed their fingers together. God, they were so in love. So good together. Deacon didn’t even particularly like holding hands. No wonder I’d been about to dump him.
“You want to tell the rest, sweetheart?” asked Dad. “It’s kind of your story.”
Shanti turned her head, all the better to see me.
To think, I’d actually been trying to create a good image. The attempt at glorious maturity was shot to shit now. Across the table, Pete raised his bottle of beer to his lips, his cheekbones standing out in stark relief. Not a happy boy.
Better just to blurt it out and be done with it. It was so stupid, really. But even after all these years, I still felt incredibly embarrassed about the whole thing. “I had a crush on Pete and attempted to seduce him on my eighteenth birthday by flashing my tits at him. He’d refused to see me as an adult, so I decided to press the issue. Dad walked in and assumed Pete had been fooling around with his teenage daughter or something, punched him in the face, and told him he was fired. Dad threatened to call the cops, my mother, and God knows who else. There was a lot of yelling. A fair bit of blood. Lots of people heard it all go down. It wasn’t good.”
Pete snorted. “It wasn’t good? I spent the fucking night in the emergency room getting my nose set.”
“I always wondered how it was broken,” said Shanti calmly. “There’s that intriguing bump on the bridge.”
“I overreacted,” said Dad. “Honestly, I think I feel worse about the whole thing than anyone else.”
But given the sweat pouring down the back of my dress, and Pete’s squirming in his seat, I was pretty sure this was not true. Though it was cute of him to think so. I kept my eyes down, it seemed safest. “Eventually Dad calmed down. I got him to understand it was all on me and he un-fired Pete.”
“Yes, well, I didn’t get a chance to thank you for that, what with being in the emergency room and all,” the man bit out.
“As I’ve said before, I’m sorry.”
Pete continued to glare at me like I considered kicking kittens and pinching puppies a good time. Maybe I could just sleep in my car for the next few days. If I put the passenger seat down, it should be okay. More comfortable than staying with him, at least.
“Oh for goodness sake, Peter.” Shanti grinned. “Accept her apology. We all did things we regret when we were young and stupid. Honestly, I think that’s one of the funniest stories I’ve heard in a long time,” she said, turning to me. I can’t believe you actually flashed him.”
I raised one shoulder. “I’d had a few drinks. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“And you haven’t been back here since?”
“No. I haven’t really been welcome.”
“Well . . .” said Dad. “It wasn’t quite like that.”
“Sure it was, Dad.”
He almost smiled. “You did cause a hell of a mess. Pete’s fifteen years older than you, for Christ’s sake.”
“No wonder you freaked out for a moment, Peter, when I asked if she could stay with you,” said Shanti. “Why, you went as white as a sheet. I was worried you were ill.”
“I think you’re overexaggerating there.” Pushing back his chair, Pete stood. Tension radiated from every strong line of his body. “I’m going to get us some more drinks. Get dinner on the table.”
“I’ll help,” said Dad, following him back inside.
Shanti turned to me and smiled. “Sorry about asking you to stay here, by the way. I got a little carried away with all of the wedding things. I’ve practically filled the whole house. Next time you visit, the guest room will be waiting for you. I promise.”
“Thanks.”
She stared out at the view for a moment, obviously thinking deep thoughts. “Adele, I think you and Peter must have been very good friends for him to still be so angry about it all.”
“Seriously, he didn’t do anything wrong or inappropriate. Please don’t think badly of him—it was all me.”
“I know that,” she soothed. “He’s an honorable man, a good one. That’s why it’s not like him to hold a grudge.”
“No, normally if anyone messed with him like that, broke his trust, they’d just be out of his life. That’s not quite possible, here.” I fiddled with the label on the beer, rubbing the condensation around. “Makes things complicated.”
She made a humming noise. “Well, I have no children of my own and I want you around more. If you truly do love being here, like your father says, and you’re bored with your job, then joining the business might not be such a bad idea. I know he’d like to see you more. He talks about you often.”
“He does?”
“Yes.”
I didn’t know what to say.
“I think you need to fix things with Peter,” she said, as if it were that easy.
“I’ve been trying.”
“He is a stubborn man, as most are. They always think they know best until we show them otherwise.” She smiled. “Try harder.”