L ily woke with the grogginess that comes from having slept the deep sleep of utter exhaustion. Her father had arrived home shortly after Jack’s departure and he’d been brusque at best. Distracted, he’d given her a perfunctory kiss on the cheek and suggested they talk in the morning. She tried to convince herself it was no more than she’d expected, but a small part of her felt like the little girl at a school recital futilely waiting for her daddy to turn up to watch her dance.
Lily stretched out on the cotton sheets of her bed and listened to the nearby crash of waves on the shore and the cries of seagulls as they swooped across the sand. The beach called to her, as it had every morning before she’d been sent away. Lily quickly freshened up then dragged sweatpants and a T-shirt from her suitcase on the floor and scrabbled deeper in the mess of luggage for her running shoes. She should think about unpacking when she got back from her run but somehow the idea of putting her clothes away implied a level of permanence she wasn’t ready for—not yet.
As she ran lightly down the stairs she realised how silent the house was. It was unusual for her father to still be asleep at this time of the day, weekday or not. A brief note left on the kitchen bench informed her he’d had to go into work early but invited her to drive out to meet him at his office for lunch.
Lily scrunched the note into a tight ball in her hand and let it drop onto the countertop. After all this time he still hadn’t forgiven her. That much was patently clear.
Stifling her disappointment, Lily let herself out the sliding-glass door and onto the patio that led to stairs that took her down onto the beach. Within seconds she was stretching out her legs in a leisurely lope along the hard-packed sand. The sun was only just beginning to dispel the grey gloom of dawn. A trickle of something filtered through her mind—of rightness, of belonging. Lily shook her thoughts free before they could take a firmer hold. At this stage she wasn’t certain she could stay here for the long term. But then again, what choice did she have?
Lily forced her legs to work harder, faster, and she ate up the distance along the sand. She was determined to regain her fitness one way or the other, but breathlessness forced her to slow slightly as she neared the end of the strand of shoreline. There were more houses along the beachfront than there had been when she left Onemata, holiday homes for the most part, by the look of them. That kind of progress was only to be expected, but she couldn’t help but feel a pang of loss for the encroachment of civilisation on her childhood playground. She slowed to a stop as she drew level with a huge new house facing the beach. It certainly had a presence many of the holiday homes lacked.
Nestled in the curve of the bay where the towering cliff side tapered down to the beach, the house looked solid and permanent. Massive retaining poles supported a wide deck that was bound to give spectacular views out over the sea and up the sweeping line of the beach toward the point. Twin staircases at either end of the deck burrowed down to the beach and full-length, one-way-mirror-glass windows faced the entire frontage of the building. A large balcony off the top floor provided a deep porch underneath—a haven, no doubt, from the hot summer sun. While essentially modern in design, the house still held an aura of Colonial influence, an echo of the older buildings in town that harked back a hundred years or more. It was in total contrast to the Mediterranean-style whitewashed villa her father had erected many years ago, and seemed to fit the landscape as if it had been here for years.
A solitary figure stood at the edge of the deck railing, his forearms resting on the top rail and his all too familiar face turned to the rising sun. Lily’s stomach sank. It figured it would be Jack. She did a wide turn and faced back the other way down the beach, back to where she’d come from. The irony of that symbolism wasn’t lost on her. Back to where she’d come from. Ha! The short bitter laugh held no humour for her at all.
“Lily!”
She increased her pace. She could pretend she hadn’t heard the strong male shout that coasted on the wind.
Her chest was getting tight. She’d pushed herself too hard this morning. It’d been far too long since she’d stretched her physical limits like this and the doctor had warned her not to expect too much too soon. The muscles in her thighs and calves began to burn, a stitch started in her side.
The steady pounding of heavier feet caught up behind her and Lily tried with all she had to push herself the final short distance to the stairs that led to her father’s property.
“Hold up before you kill yourself.”
Strong hands caught at her shoulders, forcing her to draw to a close. He must have sprinted the distance between them; she thought as her breath came in ragged spurts and, curse him, he hadn’t even raised a sweat.
“Why—why did you stop me?” She bent at the waist, dragged in one heaving breath after another.
“Just being neighbourly.”
His short dark hair was tousled by his run, a few strands slipping across his broad forehead. Her fingers itched to smooth them back but she maintained her grip on her trembling thighs.
“Neighbourly?” She barked out a short laugh. “Yeah, right.”
“Are you coming tonight?” he asked, direct and to the point.
“I told you, I need to see if Dad has any plans for me.”
Jack just looked at her. Was that pity in his eyes? She couldn’t bear it. Not from him.
She straightened and met his gaze. “Look, I’ll probably be there. He’s tied up a lot with work by the looks of things, so yeah. I’ll be there.”
A glimmer of a smile played around his lips and, despite herself, Lily found herself answering in kind.
“Seven o’clock, remember.”
“Fine.” Lily turned and started up the stairs to the house. “Is there anything you’d like me to bring?”
“Just yourself. I believe I can provide everything else.”
“My, how times have changed.” Lily couldn’t stop the words from tumbling from her mouth.
Jack’s jaw firmed and his lips pressed tight together before he answered. “Don’t be more of a bitch than you can help, Lily. It won’t win you any new friends.”
“And the old ones?” she asked without hesitation. What about them? Had they shucked her off as easily as Jack had? It wasn’t as if she’d made any particularly close female friends. Coming as she had from boarding school, she’d been an outsider from the start of her time at Onemata High. The only person she’d been close to had been Jack; he hadn’t left any room for anyone else.
“Most of them were coming anyway, but there’ll be a few who’ll come just to check you out.”
“Gee, I can’t wait.” Lily already regretted accepting his invitation. “See you at seven, then.”
“I’m looking forward to it.” His answering drawl sent a shiver of apprehension down her spine.
“Sure you are,” she muttered under her breath as she continued up the short staircase that led to her father’s property. It wasn’t until she’d slid the ranch slider closed with a solid thud that he finally started back down the beach.
Lily dressed up for the meeting with her father. He’d expect it and it gave her confidence a boost to put on one of the designer outfits she’d squeezed into her suitcases in her rush from Los Angeles. Once she’d made her decision to come home she had fast-tracked everything she could to get there. It wasn’t as if there was anything still holding her there. As her profile had waned so too had the friendliness of the clique she moved around in. It had been time for a clean break.
The offices at FonCom, as Fontaine Compuware was locally known, had been refurbished since the last time she’d been there. Obviously no expense had been spared. Business must be good, she observed.
“Lily!” Her father’s voice boomed down the corridor as he came into reception to meet her.
In a whirl of activity he showed her around his staff and the offices. She felt as if she was on show and she smiled until her cheeks ached. Obviously the news of her ignominious fall from grace with her fashion house had been as widely touted here at home. But her father, in his usual fashion, was set to steamroller over everyone’s preconceptions about her.
It was a relief when Charles Fontaine settled her opposite him at the seafood restaurant near his offices, away from the overeager gazes and the prying questions.
He looked more tired than she remembered. Last night she’d put it down to having worked late, but in the crisp light of day he looked worn out, the colour in his cheeks unnaturally high.
They gave their orders and settled back in their seats, each eyeing the other.
“Mrs. Manson tells me she saw you with Jack Dolan this morning.” Charles Fontaine came straight to the point.
“Are you spying on me, Dad?” Already?
“Is it true?”
Lily sighed in exasperation. “Yes, it’s true. What of it? I am twenty-eight years old and perfectly capable of looking after myself.”
“Pshaw!” His snort left her in no doubt he thought nothing of the kind. “Did you arrange to meet him?”
“No, of course I didn’t. I went for a run on the beach. I had no idea he had a property there. He saw me and followed me home.”
“Chased you like a dog, from what I heard.”
Lily stiffened. “And so what if he did?”
“I thought you’d learned your lesson from that guy. Best you stay away from him, Lily, my girl.”
“I make my own decisions about who I see and who I don’t see.” Lily felt as if she was a teenager once again, being hauled over the coals for having been seen in the company of “that Dolan boy” after school. When would her father learn he couldn’t meddle in other people’s lives?
“Just thought I’d say my piece. I don’t want to see you hurt again. Not like before.” Charles looked up to the waiter who’d brought their meals and bestowed one of his rare smiles. “Thank you, Johnno. That’ll be all.”
Lily bit back her retort. It would be a waste of energy anyway. She looked across the table at the massive platter of deep-fried seafood and fries on her father’s plate.
“Dad, are you looking after yourself okay? Are you certain you should be eating all that?”
“Never you mind, my girl. Let me be the judge of what’s best for me.” He picked up a fork and speared a French fry before dipping it in the side dish of tartare sauce and then into the tomato sauce dish, as well, before popping it into his mouth. He munched away with an expression on his face that came closer to joy than he’d had when he laid eyes on her last night. “Now, where were we? Ah, yes, that Dolan boy. You’ll stay away from him, won’t you?”
Hadn’t he listened to a word she’d said? Obviously not. Well, it was time he had a wakeup call.
“I didn’t say anything of the kind, Dad. You said it.” Tension coiled in her stomach. Home less than one day and already they were set to be at loggerheads.
“That’s right, my girl. I said it. Just you remember that and we’ll get along fine. Now, aside from him, have you caught up with any of your friends yet?”
Lily hesitated before answering. “Not yet, although I’ve been invited to a barbecue to catch up with a few of them tonight.” It wasn’t exactly a lie.
“Good, good. I’m glad you’re going to be occupied. Have to work late again. No rest for the wicked. Ha!”
His laugh at his own joke sounded forced even to Lily’s ears. There was something obviously pressing on him, but theirs wasn’t the kind of relationship where she could ask him what was wrong. Instead Lily applied herself to her calamari and salad and decided quietly to herself to have a word with Mrs. Manson about the type of food her father ate at home. If she had no other influence on his life, Lily would make sure he ate more healthily than now.
Her father steered their conversation along more general lines for the rest of their lunch, talking loudly about her work and turning heads in a way that made Lily want to crawl under the tablecloth and hide. Instead, she sat with perfect posture and a plastic smile on her face and counted the minutes until he blessedly went back to the office.