Mari cleaned the flat all afternoon and long into the night, jet lag keeping her awake while the rest of London was sleeping. It wasn’t until she had finished mopping the kitchen floor that she finally stopped to take it in.
This was my father’s home.
It still didn’t seem quite real, that she was actually here, surrounded by his furniture, his pictures, his cups and plates, his art on the walls. Once she’d woken from her nap—and with the mess cleared away—Mari could see just how charming the flat was.
Her mother’s home and Charlie’s flat were as different as night and day. Where the Spanish-style California rancher was decorated with brightly colored ceramic tiles on the floor and countertops, had every modern convenience in the kitchen and bathrooms, and featured a large green lawn out in the backyard, the London flat had old floorboards, a clawfoot tub in the bathroom, and a stunning view over the river. Every time Mari looked out the window, as day turned to night, the river was different. Calm, then rising, then fast-flowing, and now, as the moon rose high in the sky, calm again.
How, she wondered, would her mother react if Mari did a video walk-through next time they spoke? Not well, that was for sure.
Oh no, how could she have forgotten? Mari had promised to check in with her parents tonight before bed, but she had neither gone to sleep, nor remembered to charge her phone. Rummaging through her bags for a power converter, she plugged in her cell. As soon as it came to life, a half-dozen missed calls—and many more texts—buzzed through. All were different versions of the same panicky message from her mother, apart from one from Carson.
Hope you’re having a great time. Tried to talk Mom off the ledge when she didn’t hear from you tonight, but you can guess how well that went. Text anytime if you need to chat.
Calling her parents from Charlie’s flat didn’t feel right, so once her phone’s battery had been sufficiently charged, Mari headed downstairs and out through the store that seemed in even worse disarray at second glance. The street outside was quiet and empty, the sky clear, and the moon shimmered over a river as smooth as glass.
It was one of the prettiest scenes imaginable.
Wishing she’d had more than that short nap on the couch to restore her fried brain cells before this call, she dialed her parents’ house.
“Mari?” Her mother picked up on the first ring. “Thank God. We thought something had happened to you.”
“I’m fine, I just got busy and then my phone battery died.”
“What have you been busy with?” Her mother was instantly suspicious. “The flat and store are both dumps, aren’t they? Just like I said they would be.”
Mari didn’t believe in lying to her parents, which was why she was glad she could say honestly, “The flat is quite nice, actually.”
“What about the bookstore?”
“That’s going to take some reorganization.” Also true. “But I’m sure once I dig in, I’ll be able to sort it out quickly.” She dearly hoped that last part ended up being true.
“The quicker the better,” her mother said.
Mari’s gut clenched as she thought of going back to Santa Monica. Though she’d been in London only half a day and had been holed up inside the flat for nearly all of it, she’d found everything she’d seen and experienced so far—the buildings and the river and the delicious scone and jam and wallpaper-stripping tea—to be wonderful.
Especially her unexpected savior, Owen Sullivan.
Before she’d set eyes on him, just the sound of his super-sexy British accent had set her insides ablaze. And once she’d actually seen him…
Frankly, she’d never thought lust at first sight was something that would ever happen to her. Then again, she’d never counted on meeting Owen.
At first, he’d seemed slightly suspicious of her, as though he assumed she’d come to London to sell off her father’s things to the lowest bidder. It hadn’t stopped him from being extremely kind, however. He’d not only brought her food—he’d cleaned her kitchen too!
Her mother’s next question broke through her thoughts. “Has anyone poked their nose into your business? Tried to get the dirt on you?”
“One of Charlie’s friends came by to see if I needed anything.”
“I can only imagine what kind of friend it was. Probably one he met at the bottom of a bottle of whiskey.”
“Actually,” Mari said in Owen’s defense, “he was very nice and wanted to know if he could bring me something to eat after my long trip.”
“Hmmm.” If anything, her mother sounded more mistrustful now. “Maybe he’s planning to play a longer game with you. Reel you in until he lulls you with his charming accent into a false sense of security and then—”
“Mom!” Mari understood that her mother was worried about her—especially about her life unraveling if she fell for an unsuitable Brit—but after all the help Owen had given her this afternoon, she couldn’t let Donna continue down that road. “Owen isn’t playing any kind of game with me.”
“I certainly hope not. I didn’t raise you to be anyone’s fool. Or to fall for a good-looking man with an accent the way I did.”
Mari’s cheeks flushed in the cool night air as she silently acknowledged just how good-looking Owen was. And her mother wasn’t wrong that his British accent made her insides feel…melty.
“I know you want to honor your birth father,” Donna said in a gentler voice. “Not many people would put their lives on hold out of respect for someone who, frankly, didn’t deserve it. Though I’m not pleased with any of this, I’m also not surprised by how charitable you’re being, given that Gary and I have raised you to be a kind person. Charlie is far luckier than he ever knew.”
Amazingly, from everything Owen had said about Charlie that afternoon, it seemed Mari’s father truly had been lucky with his bookstore and a bevy of friends on the island. Which only made Mari’s gut churn more.
Because if his life had come to be so great once he left California and moved to Elderflower Island, why hadn’t he reached out to her at that point? Had he been afraid that seeing or speaking to her would somehow mess things up for him again?
“He never tried to contact me through you when I was growing up, did he?” She had been only five years old when she’d realized the one thing guaranteed to send her mother reeling into tears and darkness was to ask questions about Charlie. So Mari had stopped asking. Now that she was on his home turf, however, it was impossible to continue to keep her questions inside.
“Of course he didn’t!”
A heavy silence hung between them. Jet lag clearly did no favors for either Mari’s self-control or her timing, considering a question like that was guaranteed to set her mother off. “I’m glad I was able to reach you, but I should try to get some sleep.”
“Okay, sleep well. And be sure to call me tomorrow to let me know how things are progressing—and what day to expect you back.”
“Actually…” Mari was compelled to say one more thing before they disconnected. “I think it might be best if I spare you the day-to-day details. I’d like to take a little time to try to sort things out a bit more and wrap my head around my inheritance.”
“What are you saying?” Her mother’s voice vibrated with concern. “That you don’t want to talk with me or your father while you’re in Charlie’s world?”
“No, that’s not it at all.” Mari tried to explain in a way her mother might understand. “Just like with any business, it’s going to take some time for me to assess the bookstore’s viability. I lost track of time today, and since I suspect I will again, I hate to think of either of you waiting up for my phone calls. I promise I’ll be in touch with any big news, but I don’t want you to worry if you don’t hear from me for a few days.”
Her mother didn’t reply for long enough that Mari knew Donna was either about to blow up at her or start crying. Of course she didn’t want to upset her mom, but at the same time, she did, in fact, need some space to work through all of the changes in her life. Though she loved her parents dearly, she’d known better than to let them dictate her choices six weeks ago when she’d decided to come to Elderflower Island, and she couldn’t make that mistake now either.
“Well,” her mother finally said, “in that case, we won’t hold our breath waiting for your next call.”
“Mom.” Her voice was gentle. “You know the last thing I want to do is upset you or Dad.”
She heard her mother’s shaky exhalation over the phone line. “I know. And I trust you to do the right thing, honey. Of course I do. It’s just that I also know how enticing exotic things can be. Enticing enough for me to lose my head when I was your age. But you’ve always been strong and smart, so I’ll do my best to heed your wishes and stop worrying about you.”
“Thanks, Mom. I love you.”
“Love you too, honey. Good night.”
After hanging up, Mari didn’t immediately head back inside. The evening was too beautiful, with the rising moon sparkling on the river and the air smelling sweeter and fresher than it ever did in Santa Monica. A black cat sashayed past, eyeing her up before slinking over to the front door of the bookstore and sitting in front of it.
Mari had always wanted a cat, but her stepfather was allergic to dander. “Are you another one of Charlie’s friends?”
The cat didn’t answer, of course. It simply lifted one paw to give it a leisurely lick. When she opened the door, it sauntered inside as if it owned the place, then hopped up onto the counter by the register, curled into a ball, and closed its eyes.
Perhaps it was foolish to leave a cat she didn’t know inside the store, but honestly, the animal couldn’t make things any messier. “Good night,” Mari told it, then went upstairs to finally get some sleep of her own.