Kitabı oku: «His Winter Rose»
“Ahoy, there.”
Jason watched as the sailboat’s captain stepped onto the dock. He caught a glimpse of a face, and realized the sailor was a woman. A woman he knew.
Piper strode toward him. “Good morning, Mayor.”
He couldn’t help but stare at her dark hair. He’d dreamed about that hair. He swallowed, rejecting the flash of interest that prickled whenever he talked to her.
“You’ll need a car, Miss Langley. Serenity Bay’s public transportation isn’t up to big city standards.”
“Please call me Piper,” she said. “I’m familiar with the need for wheels around here. I lived in Serenity Bay years ago. They were some of the best times of my life.”
Then she smiled and it was a glorious thing. Her gaze held his. A zing of awareness shot between them.
“That explains your enthusiasm for this place, then,” he said. “So what do you have planned for Serenity Bay, Miss Langley?”
“You’re the boss. Shouldn’t you be telling me, Mr. Franklin?”
LOIS RICHER
Sneaking a flashlight under the blankets, hiding in a thicket of Caragana bushes where no one could see, pushing books into socks to take to camp—those are just some of the things Lois Richer freely admits to in her pursuit of the written word. “I’m a book-a-holic. I can’t do without stories,” she confesses. “It’s always been that way.”
Her love of language evolved into writing her own stories. Today her passion is to create tales of personal struggle that lead to triumph over life’s rocky road. For Lois, a happy ending is essential. “In my stories, as in my own life, God has a way of making all things beautiful. Writing a love story is my way of reinforcing my faith in His ultimate goodness toward us—His precious children.”
His Winter Rose
Lois Richer
MILLS & BOON
Before you start reading, why not sign up?
Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!
Or simply visit
Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.
So whenever you speak, or whatever you do, remember that you will be judged by the law of love, the law that set you free. For there will be no mercy for you if you have not been merciful to others. But if you have been merciful, then God’s mercy toward you will win out over his judgment against you.
—James 2:12-13
This book is for Judy, Ken and the kids.
Thanks for introducing me to cottage country.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Epilogue
Letter to Reader
Questions for Discussion
Prologue
“Ms. Langley? Piper Langley?”
“Yes.”
Maybe it was the suit that took his breath away—a tailored red power suit that fit her like a glove. But he didn’t think of power when he looked at her. He thought of long-stemmed red roses—the kind a man chooses to give his love.
Maybe it was the way she so regally rose from the chair in Serenity Bay’s town office and stepped forward to grasp his hand firmly. Or it could have been her hair—a curling, glossy mane that cascaded down her back like a river of dark chocolate.
His sudden lack of oxygen wasn’t helped by the megawatt smile that tilted her lips, lit up her chocolate-brown eyes and begged him to trust her.
From somewhere inside him a warning voice reminded, “Trust has to be earned.” Immediately he recalled a verse he’d read this morning: Commit everything you do to the Lord. Trust Him to help you and He will.
“I’m Piper.” Her words, firm, businesslike, drew him back to reality.
“Jason Franklin,” he stated. “Would you like to come through to the boardroom?”
“Certainly.” She followed him, her high heels clicking on the tile floor in a rhythmic pattern that bespoke her confidence.
Inside, Jason introduced the town’s councillors, and waited till she was seated. Only then did he take his place at the table and pick up her résumé. It was good. Too good.
“Your credentials speak very well for you, Ms. Langley.”
“Thank you.”
He hadn’t been paying her a compliment, simply telling the truth. She was overqualified for a little town like Serenity Bay, a place in Ontario’s northern cottage country.
“I don’t think we have any questions about your skills or your ability to achieve results.” He glanced at the other board members for confirmation and realized all eyes were focused on the small, delicate woman seated at the end of the table.
Piper Langley had done nothing and yet they all seemed captivated by her. Himself included.
Careful! his brain warned.
“I’m happy to answer anything you wish to ask, Mr. Franklin.” She picked an invisible bit of lint from her skirt, folded her hands in her lap and waited. When no one spoke, she chuckled, breaking the silence. “I’m sure you didn’t ask me here just to look at me.”
So she knew she drew attention. Was that good or bad?
“No, we didn’t.” He closed the folder filled with her accomplishments, set it aside. “It’s obvious you have what we’re looking for, but I can’t help wondering–why do you want to leave Calgary? Especially now, after you’ve worked so hard to build your reputation, finally achieved the success you’ve earned? Why leave all that to work in Serenity Bay?”
She didn’t move a muscle. Her smile didn’t flicker. But something changed. If he had to put a name to it, Jason would have said Piper-the-rose grew prickly thorns.
“Several reasons, actually. As you noted, I’ve been working in the corporate world for some time now. I’m interested in a change.”
That he understood. He’d come here to seek his own change.
“I was intrigued when I heard about your plans for Serenity Bay. The town has always been a tourist spot for summer vacationers.”
“Lately the year-round population has been in decline,” he admitted.
“Yes.” Her gaze narrowed a fraction. “If I understood your ad correctly, you’re hoping to change that.” She glanced around the table, meeting every interested stare. “I’d like very much to be a part of that progress.”
Nice, but not really an answer to his question.
Why here? Why now?
Jason leaned back in his chair and began to dig for what he really wanted to know.
“How do you view this town, Ms. Langley?”
“Please call me Piper.” She, too, leaned back, but her stare never wavered from his. “I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings, but to me Serenity Bay looks like a tired old lady much in need of a makeover. The assets are certainly here, but they’re covered by years of wear and tear. I’d like to see her restored to a vibrant woman embracing life with open arms. I have some ideas as to how we might go about that.”
Piper elaborated with confidence. Clearly she’d done her research, weighed every option and planned an all-out assault on the problems besieging the Bay. But she didn’t stop there. She offered a plethora of possibilities Jason hadn’t even considered. Two minutes into her speech she had the board eating out of her perfectly manicured hand. None of the other candidates had been so generous in sharing their ideas.
Jason was left to find a hole in her carefully prepared responses.
“You’re used to large budgets, Ms. Langley. You won’t have that here.”
Her brown eyes sparked, her perfectly tinted lips pinched together as she leaned forward. So Miss Perfect had a temper. He found that oddly reassuring.
“Money isn’t always the answer, Mr. Franklin.” Her fingers splayed across the shiny tabletop, her voice deepened into a firmness that emphasized the sense of power that red suit radiated. “Yes, it will take some cash to initiate change. It will also require hard work, forward thinking, a vision that reaches beyond the usual means to something new, untried. There will be failures, but there will also be successes.”
“I agree.”
She stared at him hard, her focus unrelenting, searching. Then she nodded, just once.
“It will also take commitment. By you, your board, the community. No town gains a reputation for great tourism through one person’s actions. It takes everyone committing to a common goal and pushing toward it—no matter what. It takes teamwork.”
Jason hoped his face remained an expressionless mask, but his heart beat a hundred miles an hour. Of everything she’d said, that one word had made up his mind.
Teamwork.
It was what he’d been cheated of before.
It was the one thing he’d demand from the town’s newest employee.
“Unless anyone has another question, or you have something more to say, Ms. Langley, I believe we’re finished. Thank you for making the trip.” He rose, surprised to see more than an hour had passed. “We will notify you of our decision by next week.”
“It’s been my pleasure.” She worked her way around the table, shaking hands, flashing that movie-star smile. “Regardless of whom you chose as your new economic development officer, I wish you much success in your endeavor. I look forward to coming back in the summer to see the changes you’ve wrought.”
Jason ushered her out of the room, back into the reception area.
“Thank you again,” he said, holding out his hand toward her. “You’ve obviously put a lot of thought into how you’d do the job, Ms. Langley. We appreciate your interest.”
“It’s Piper,” she murmured, shaking his hand. “And the pleasure was all mine. It’s been good to see the town again.” She picked up a long, white cashmere coat and before he could help she’d wrapped it around herself, fastened the two pearl buttons in front.
A winter rose.
He got stuck on that thought, gazing at her ivory face rising out of the petal-soft cashmere.
“Mr. Franklin.”
“It’s Jason,” he told her automatically.
“Very well, Jason.” She inclined her head, flicked the sheath of sable-toned hair over one shoulder, shook his hand in finality. “Thank you for the opportunity. Goodbye.” Then she turned toward the door.
Jason kept watch as she strode to her car, a grey importrental. He waited until she’d climbed inside, until the quiet motor glided away from the town office.
She was wrong about one thing.
It wasn’t goodbye. He knew that for sure.
Chapter One
“A toast to each of us for thirty great years.”
Piper pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head, protection not only against the March sun’s watery rays, but against the reflected glare of those highest peaks surrounding the bay where traces of winter snow still clung to the crags and dips.
She held her steaming mug of tea aloft, waiting to clink it against those of her two friends in a tradition they’d kept alive since ninth grade.
“Happy birthday, ladies. May we each find the dreams of our heart before the next thirty years pass.”
Rowena Davis drank to the toast, but her patrician nose wiggled with distaste at the mint tea. Rowena was a coffee girl, the stronger the better. She quickly set down her mug before studying the other two.
“We’ll hardly find any dreams here in the Bay,” she complained with a motion toward the thick evergreen forest. Her dubious tone mirrored the sour look marring her lovely face.
“Don’t be a grump, Row.” After a grin at Piper, Ashley Adams sipped her tea, savoring the flavor thoughtfully. Ash always took her time.
“A grump? Wake up, woman.” Rowena shook her head. “I can’t imagine why on earth you’ve moved back here, Piper. Serenity Bay isn’t exactly a hot spot for someone with your qualifications.”
In unison they scanned the untouched forest beyond the deck, its verdant lushness broken only by jutting granite monoliths dotted here and there across the landscape. Beyond that, the bay rippled, intensely blue in the sunshine with white bands of uninhabited beach banding its coastline.
“Maybe Serenity Bay’s not a hot spot, but it is calm and peaceful. And she can sail whenever she wants.” Ash turned over to lie on her tummy on the lounger and peered between the deck rails, down and out across the water.
“True.” Rowena laid back, closed her eyes.
“Peace and quiet are big pluses in my books these days. I may just come and visit you this summer, Pip.”
The old nickname had never died despite years of protest. Strangely enough, Piper liked it now; it reminded her that they cared about her, that she wasn’t all alone.
“You’d leave the big city, Ash?” Piper struggled to hide her smile. It was impossible for her to imagine her friend ignoring the lure of the galleries and new artists’ showings she adored for more than a weekend.
“Yep. For a while, anyway.” Ashley’s golden hair swung about her shoulders as she absorbed the panoramic view. “I’d forgotten how lovely it is here. No haze of pollution, no traffic snarls. Just God’s glorious creation. This invitation to join you and Row for our annual weekend birthday bash has reminded me of all the things I give up to live in my condo in Vancouver. Especially after soaking in your posh hot tub last night! The stars were spectacular.”
“Total privacy is a change, too.” Rowena sighed as the sun draped her with its warmth. “You know, Pip, Cathcart House could bring in millions if you turned it into a spa.”
“It already is one,” Ashley joked. “Welcome to Piper’s own private chichi retreat. Which I’ll happily share whenever she asks.”
“Anytime.” Piper chuckled. “I recall you were always partial to my grandparents’ home, Ash.”
“No kidding.” Rowena snorted. “I think she spent more time on their dock than in her own backyard those summers on the Bay.”
“My grandparents never minded. They loved to see you both.” The pain of their deaths still squeezed Piper’s heart, though time was easing the sting of loss. It helped to recall happier times. “Remember the year Papa bought the sailboat?”
“Yes. I also remember how many times we got dunked before we figured out how to sail it.” Rowena’s face puckered up. “The bay never gets warm.”
“But didn’t it feel good to whiz past the beach and know the summer kids were envying us? We wowed ’em that year.” Ashley leaned over, laid a hand on Rowena’s shoulder. “In retrospect, they weren’t all bad times, Row.”
“No, they weren’t.” After a long silence, Rowena managed to summon what, for her, passed as a smile. “I had you two to go with me to school. That meant a lot.”
Rowena tossed back her auburn hair as if shaking off the bad memories, then took another tentative sip of tea.
“Now tell us, Pip. What exactly are you doing back here? Besides hosting our birthday bash, I mean.”
Piper leaned back, her gaze on the bay below.
“I’ve accepted a position as economic development officer to organize Serenity Bay’s tourism authority,” she told them.
Stark silence greeted her announcement.
“Economic development?”
“Did she actually say that?”
Rowena looked at Ashley and both burst into giggles.
“What development? The place looks smaller now than when we used to live here. A few cottagers, some artists, a defunct lumber mill. What’s to develop?”
Just as she had when she was fourteen and frustrated by their inability to see what was so clear to her, Piper clenched her jaw and grumbled, “You have no vision, Philistines.”
“Oh, boy, that takes me back.” Ashley laughed out loud. “Okay, David. Tell us how you’re going to conquer your next Goliath.”
Piper took her time, gathering her black hair into a knot and pinning it to the top of her head while making them wait. It was an old trick and it always worked. Their interest had been piqued.
“Spill it, Pip.” Ashley wasn’t kidding now.
She took a deep breath and began.
“It may interest you to know that Serenity Bay has a new, very forward-thinking mayor.”
“Oh?”
Now they were curious. Good.
“He has plans that include making our lovely bay into a tourist mecca. And why not? We’re sitting smack-dab in the middle of the most gorgeous country God ever created. All we have to do is tell the rest of the world about it.”
Utter shock greeted her words. Piper knew the silence wouldn’t last long. She leaned back, closed her eyes, and waited.
“You’re kidding. Aren’t you?” Uncertainty laced Ashley’s whisper.
“She’s not.” The unflappable Rowena was less surprised. “Our Pip has always had a soft spot for this place. Except—”
Piper didn’t like the sound of that. She opened her eyes. Sure enough, Rowena’s intense scrutiny was centered on her. Faking a bland smile, Piper watched her hazel eyes change shades as quickly as her friend’s thoughts. It wouldn’t take Row long to home in on what she hadn’t said.
“This new mayor you’re going to be working for—”
“Aha.” Ash leaned forward like a cat waiting to pounce.
“Tell us, Pip. What exactly is he like?” Rowena tapped one perfectly manicured fingertip against her cheek, eyes narrowed, intense.
Piper couldn’t stop her blush as a picture of Jason Franklin, tousled and exceedingly handsome, swam into her brain. A most intriguing man.
To hide her thoughts she slipped on her sunglasses.
“What’s he like?”
“Don’t repeat the question. Answer it.”
“I’m trying.” Piper swallowed. “I don’t know—like a mayor, I guess. He owns the marina.”
“Short, fat, balding fellow, happily married with six kids?”
“Grease under his fingertips?” Ashley added.
“N-no. Not exactly.”
“How ‘not exactly,’ Pip?” The old Row was back in form, and she was enjoying herself. She held up her fingers and began ticking them off. “No grease?”
“Uh-uh.”
“Not short?”
“No.”
“Not fat?”
Piper shook her head. That definitely didn’t apply. Jason was lean, muscular and more toned than the men she knew who regularly worked out in expensive gyms.
“Balding? Six kids? Married?”
Flustered by the incessant questions about a man she hadn’t been able to get out of her thoughts, Piper decided to spare herself the onslaught of questions and explain.
“He’s—I don’t know! Our age, I suppose. A little older, maybe. Tall. Sandy blond hair. Blue eyes. Good-looking.”
Ashley and Rowena exchanged a look.
“Ah. So he’s a beach boy.”
“Beach boy? No. He owns the marina.” Piper decided to change tactics. “I didn’t really notice that much about him. He’s just the mayor.”
“Didn’t notice much. Uh-huh.” Rowena sniffed, checked with Ashley. “Thoughts?”
“‘The lady doth protest too much, methinks,’” the blonde quoted.
“Methinks that, too.”
“Look,” Piper sputtered, regretting her choice of words. “It’s not—”
“Maybe he’s why she came back.” Ashley frowned. “Either that or—” Her forehead pleated in a delicate frown. She focused on Piper. “Or there’s another reason you’re here.”
They knew her too well.
“Is it your father? Is that why you left Calgary?”
Might as well admit it.
“Indirectly.”
Both women sighed, their glances conveying their sympathy before Rowena deliberately shut down all expression. She had good reason to remember the past and even more to forget it.
“I knew it wouldn’t be a young, eligible male that brought you back here.” Ashley’s eyes flashed with anger. “It has to be your old man at the bottom of this sudden change. How typical.”
“What has the great Baron D. Wainwright done now?”
Piper didn’t blame Rowena for the spite in her tone. Row and Ash had been there for her ever since that first summer when her angry father had repeatedly ordered her back to the house where her mother had died. When she’d refused to return to a world she hated, a world where he’d become so demanding, so strict, so unlike the loving mother who’d shielded her, these two had consoled her.
Her father’s angry denunciation of her still stung today, even after so many years. And then of course there was the other.
Piper pushed that away.
“Pip? Please tell us what’s wrong.”
They’d always listened. She could trust them.
“It’s not what he’s done, it’s what I think he’s going to do. The company’s conducted some research on the Bay’s waterfront. Past experience tells me he intends to build one of his mega hotels right on the shores of Serenity Bay.”
“Oh, no.” Ashley couldn’t hide her dismay. “Pavement, parking lots, bars open all night? It’ll ruin the place.”
“Like Baron cares about the ambience of Serenity Bay.” Rowena sniffed. “I’d guess he’s well aware of your mayor’s plans and is trying to one-up him before you can get this tourism thing organized.”
Piper nodded. “My thoughts exactly.”
“So your mayor isn’t the only one who’s seen the potential of the area.” Rowena’s brows drew together. “I wonder who else is involved?”
“Jason’s not my anything,” Piper insisted as heat, which had nothing to do with the sun’s rays, scorched her cheeks. “I don’t think either he or the other council members know about the hotel. Not yet. That’s not the way Wainwright Inc. works.” She paused, then copied her father’s brusque tones. “First buy up the land, then dazzle the locals with lots of promises. If that doesn’t get you what you want, initiate a lawsuit.”
Piper pushed her chair back into the upright position, picked up the plate with her slice of birthday cake on it and took a bite. “But that’s not the only reason I decided to move back.”
Ash and Row stared at her.
“Dare we ask?”
“I needed to come home. The house, these cliffs, the meadow—I spent some of my happiest times here.”
They nodded, each transported back to carefree summer days when life’s decisions were so much simpler. Ash, Row and Piper had walked every inch of this land many times, consoling each other through puppy love, acne and a host of other trials. No matter where they went, they always came back.
“I’m tired of the nonstop meetings, of cutthroat marketers trying to outdo each other to get another star on their A-list. I guess I’m tired of the rat race. None of it seems to matter much anymore.”
“And this will?”
“I think so.” Piper saw the concern in their eyes and knew they were only pushing because they cared. “I have such precious memories of this place, of my grandparents and you guys, of coming home at Christmas, watching fireworks displays from Lookout Point. I want other kids to have that.”
“The past always looks rosy in hindsight,” Rowena muttered. “Except for mine, that is.”
Ashley patted her shoulder but kept her focus on Piper. “Serenity Bay may have changed,” she warned.
“Trust me, it has.” Piper turned her chair so she could look across the water toward the town. “I did a little research. There’s barely anyone left that we know. After the lumber mill shut down I guess folks had to move away to find work. There are more than a hundred cottages for sale.”
“A hundred?”
Both wore the same stunned expression she’d had the day she’d driven around the town.
“More than. I’m sure lots of people come back in the summer but the number of permanent residents is sinking fast. I’m guessing that’s why the mayor thinks the town has to act now, before it’s too late.”
“Back to the mayor.” Row and Ash exchanged looks, then watched her, waiting.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Are you sure this mayor didn’t have anything to do with your decision to move back?”
“No.” Piper sighed, recognizing the futility of trying to withhold anything. “I’ve actually been considering it for a while. After Vance died I poured myself into work. I didn’t want to think about God taking my husband—or anything else.”
“And work hasn’t been enough?” Ashley asked softly.
“For a while I thought it was. But this birthday has me thinking, I’m not getting any younger.”
“Neither are we. But we’re not closing up shop and moving back here.” Rowena’s voice sounded harsh, but her eyes brimmed with pity. “Have you been so unhappy?”
“That’s not the right word, Row. I’ve been rudderless, without any real goal. Serenity Bay is offering me a chance to stretch, to think outside the box. I need that challenge.”
“Need?”
Piper nodded.
“Need. I want the Bay to prosper, to grow, to provide years of fun and joy for other kids, for other families—just as it did for us.” She waved a hand. “This is where I want to spend my days, maybe someday raise my kids. I might even get back into Papa’s gold studio during the long, frosty winter nights, see if I can create again.”
“You always did have a flair for the unusual,” Rowena said. “People still stop me to ask where I got this.” She fingered the four-inch gold mask brooch she wore on her lapel.
“If it doesn’t work out or I get tired of the solitude, I can always go back to the city. But moving here, this job—I have to try.”
“Cathcart House is the perfect place to do it.”
They sat together, each musing over the changes that had come into their lives.
“I keep expecting your grandmother to bring out a jug of hot chocolate and tell us to button up.” Ashley sipped her tea, a half smile curving her lips.
“Last night I thought I heard your grandfather’s snores.” Rowena shrugged at their surprise. “What? Even I have normal dreams sometimes.”
“They left Cathcart House entirely to you, Pip? You don’t have to share it with your brother or anything?”
“They left Dylan cash. He never seemed to like the Bay, remember?” Piper shrugged. “I never understood that but he seemed happy enough with his share when I talked to him after their wills were read.”
“Was your father at the funeral?”
“No.” Piper swallowed hard. “At least, I didn’t see him.”
“It would be a bit much to expect him to show sorrow, wouldn’t it? As I recall there was no love lost between your grandparents and him.” Rowena tossed the rest of the tea over the side of the deck. “Though I must admit, I never heard them say a word against him.”
“Gran always said God would handle him so she didn’t have to worry.”
The three remained silent for a few moments in sober remembrance.
“So you’re not too concerned about your father or his plans?” Ashley asked, her forehead pleated in a tiny furrow.
Concerned, worried and a whole lot more. But Piper wouldn’t say that or these two friends would fuss about her. She didn’t want that.
“I want to be here to help with development if I can. That beach is glorious. There’s no way I’m going to sit back and watch a Wainwright hotel ruin it.”
“You’re sure that’s his plan?”
Piper nodded. “One of them.”
“And if he sways the council to his way of thinking? What will you do then?” Ashley pressed, her face expressing her concern.
“Pray.” Like praying had saved Vance’s life. Piper pushed down the anger. God’s will, not mine, she reminded herself.
“Changing Baron Wainwright would take an act of God, all right.” Rowena snorted. “Other people’s plans have never mattered to him. Did you hear about that Wainwright project in London? There are rumors that officials received bribes to pass some inspections.”
“I hadn’t heard.” Piper sloughed off her gloomy feelings, determined that nothing would spoil her joy in having her friends visit. “Anyway, I’m going to do what I can here. This job means I’ll be kept abreast of everything that goes on in Serenity Bay so, hopefully, I’ll be one step ahead.”
“Ever the optimist, that’s our Pip.”
“It’s not optimism, Row. It’s determination.” She narrowed her gaze trying to make them understand. “I want to prove something and this is the perfect place.”
“You don’t have to prove anything to us, honey.” Ashley rose, moved to fling her arms around Piper. “We already know you can do anything you set your mind on.”
“Thank you.” She hugged Ash right back. “But I have to prove it to myself, here, in this place. I didn’t come back to see my grandparents as often as I should have when they were here. Maybe I can keep their dreams for Cathcart House and the Bay alive.”
“Do it for yourself, Piper. Don’t do it to prove something to your father,” Row warned. “We all know he’s not worth the effort, not after his behavior toward Vance. Just know that if this is what you want, we’re behind you all the way.”
“She’s right. The Bayside Trio takes on tough challenges and rides ’em out no matter what. We’re fearless females just waiting to vanquish our foes.” Ashley thrust her arm above her head in the charge they’d chanted since grade nine. “Onward and upward!”
“Onward and upward,” Piper and Row repeated, grinning as if they were fifteen again and the world was just waiting for them.
“Here’s to your thirty-first year, Pip. You go, girl.”
Rowena dumped a splash of the hated tea into her cup and the three friends held up their mugs in a toast. Their admiration went a long way toward reassuring Piper that she’d made the right decision. She drank to her own success, giggled at Rowena’s jokes and answered Ashley’s questions as best she could.
But that night, after the party was over and her friends had left to return to their own lives, Piper lay alone in the big house and let her thoughts tumble into free fall. It was time to face the truth.
She’d told Ashley and Rowena that she wanted to help the Bay grow, and that was true. But more than that, she wanted to stop her father from ruining the one place she called home. And he would ruin it. He ruined everything he touched. Her childhood, her relationship with her brother. Every summer that she’d returned here from boarding school he’d arrived to make a scene about her coming back to live with him. She’d gone back twice—and regretted both. She’d even tried to work with him once. He’d ruined that, too, treating her like a stupid child. So she’d left Wainwright Inc., built a name for herself.
