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Nathaniel Walker, black sheep of the wealthy and socially prominent Walker family, burst onto the culinary scene a decade ago. Following three years in Paris at Maxim’s, the Walker heir returned to his family’s seat in New York where he eventually landed at La Nuit….


The article went on, but she couldn’t read anymore.The Walker heir.


Of course. Nate, short for Nathaniel.


Nathaniel Walker. The first man by that name had been a Revolutionary war hero and had signed the Declaration of Independence. Talk about American royalty. And wasn’t a Walker now governor of Massachusetts? That was probably Nate’s brother, who he’d said was into public service.


Hell, the Walkers were beyond rich. Made the Weatherbys look like candidates for a trailer park.


She threw the paper down. Boy, she knew how to pick them.


Good Lord, it was David all over again. Except this time, the man in question had lied about his family’s wealth and influence, not been cowed by it.


Nate appeared in her doorway. “Hey, did you notice how busy we were tonight? Listen, about Mimi—”


“Yeah, let’s talk about her. Thanks so much for giving me notice,” Frankie snapped. What she was really angry about was the way he’d kept his family’s identity from her, but Mimi sure as hell was a good target for the feelings of frustration and betrayal.


“Excuse me?”


“When we were you going to tell me you were leaving? The day before you took off?” Frankie planted her palms on the desk and shot up from her chair. “I can’t believe you’re pulling out in the middle of the season after you promised you’d stay until Labor Day!”


Nate put his hands on his h*ps and stared down at the floor like he was trying to control his temper.


“Look, Frankie—”


“God, I’m such a fool!” Her voice cracked. “I trusted you. I let you in. I’m so goddamned stupid.”


“Frankie, I’m not going to the city next week. I’m staying here. You know what my plans are for the future. Hell, I want to include you in them. Come to New York with me.”


“Yeah, and how’s that going to work? Ms. Fancy Pants out there looked pretty damn handy with the back office stuff while she tied up one of my tables waiting for you.”


“Mimi came up here to try and—”


“She’ll make one hell of a partner, I’m sure—”


“Will you listen—”


“Although personally I think that blouse was a little low cut. Not for a stripper, of course—”


“Frankie—”


“Then again, she’s more who I thought you’d go for—”


Nate pounded the desk with his fists, making paper clips bounce out of their holder. “Why the hell are you so concerned about who I’m going into business with! You’re never going to leave this place. You’d rather hide behind your family than live your own life.”


Frankie recoiled, but recovered quickly.


“Yeah, let’s talk about family, why don’t we?” She shoved the review at him. “Nathaniel Walker, heir to an American dynasty’s fortune. When were you going to mention the fact that you’ve got more money than God? Or did you figure it’d be harder to get me into bed if I knew, considering I don’t trust rich men—something which, incidentally, is proving to be a very accurate data screen for me.”


Nate’s face turned to stone, but his eyes blazed. “Did it ever occur to you that I didn’t lie? Did you even for a second think—”


“So you’re saying the New York Times fact-checker was taking a nap when this review went out?”


He leaned forward, over the desk. “Your lack of faith in me is astounding. But at least you’re consistent.”


With a bitter expletive, he turned around and headed for the door.


“Don’t you dare put this on me!” She rushed across the room at him. “I asked you about your family. Twice. And this was after I’d made it clear what had happened with David. What the hell am I supposed to think when I find out the truth?”


Nate halted. His shoulders moved up and down while he breathed heavily.


“You just can’t do it, can you,” she muttered. “You just can’t be honest.”


Nate wheeled around so fast, she leaped back. His face was full of rage and pain.


“You want to know the truth?” He took angry steps towards her, forcing her to move backward. He looked as if he’d completely lost it. “I don’t tell anyone about my family. And I’m not a Walker heir, I was disinherited by my father when I went to cooking school. My net worth is less than $100,000 and that’s only because I’ve busted my ass and saved every dime I could.”


She came up against the edge of the desk and gripped the wood.


Nate’s voice wavered with emotion. “You want to know why I don’t talk about them? Because I don’t feel like a Walker. Because my parents rode me constantly for not being who they wanted me to be. But mostly it’s because the last woman I told had an abortion when she found out I wasn’t the rich man she thought I was.”


Frankie felt the blood leave her face. “Oh, Nate—”


“My child was taken away from me. I was prepared to do the right thing when the woman told me she was pregnant, but then she got a look at the ring I could afford and split for some clinic.” His body was shaking, his eyes too bright. “I hate my name. I hate where I come from. And to have you call me a liar because I didn’t trot out my godforsaken lineage is a real frigging treat.”


It all made such terrible sense. That night when they hadn’t had a condom and he’d pulled away, shutting her out and looking haunted. The way he avoided children. His old car. His clothes. That he’d been hunting for months for a restaurant instead of just cutting a check for whatever caught his eye.


“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.


Her voice seemed to reach him because he took a deep breath and collapsed into the chair in front of her desk.


“Ah, hell,” he said, putting a hand up to his face.


“Nate, I had no idea.”


He cursed, but at least he reached out for her hand. “Of course you didn’t.”


She stroked his shoulder. He was such a big man ordinarily, but he seemed to have shrunk into himself, his legs tucked under the chair, his arm wrapped around his stomach.


Anguish stretched his deep voice thin. “I keep thinking I’m going to get over it, you know? But every time I see some kid, I get hammered with what could have been. And, God, I blame myself.”


“But you didn’t make that choice. She did.”


He talked over her. “I should have known. I should have fought, or something. I should have saved…I just didn’t find out until it was too late.”


“It wasn’t your fault, Nate. It was a terrible tragedy and you lost something very, very real, but you are not responsible.”


He looked up from between his fingers. His eyes were shiny.


“You are not responsible,” she repeated.


“And this is coming from you?” he countered gently.


Frankie thought of her mother disappearing into the storm. “That was different.”


“How?”


“I don’t know.”


“Because it happened to you?”


“Maybe.”


He tugged her down so she was sitting in his lap. “It’s so much easier to forgive other people, isn’t it. It’s harder when it comes to ourselves.”


She nodded slowly.


They stayed that way for a long time.


“I’m not going to work for Mimi,” he said abruptly. “I’d already told her no in the spring. When she saw the piece in the Times, she figured she’d try and persuade me again. I was direct with her. There’s no way I’m going to be sidetracked, even by the likes of Cosmos.”


Frankie cleared her throat. “What if you don’t find something to buy? What will you do?” The real thing she wanted to know was whether there was any chance he’d consider staying.


“I’m just going to keep looking. I don’t care if it takes a decade,” he said forcefully. “I’ve had to fight for what I wanted all my life. My parents never respected me because I was supposed to be a lawyer or a finance guy like my brother. I was supposed to marry a debutante and have two towheaded children and live in Wellesley and belong to the club and play racquetball. But I was always different. My friends were metal-heads who had tattoos. I didn’t go out for crew, I played hockey and got my nose broken and my front tooth knocked out. I barely made it through Harvard, not because I couldn’t do the work, but because I didn’t care.”


She smoothed his hair back, drinking in what he was saying. The answers to her questions were tumbling out of him, filling in the blanks.


“I can’t give up. I won’t give up. Because if I have my own place, I succeed or fail on my own. No one tells me what to do unless I ask for their advice. And no one can take it away from me.”


“You’re going to get what you want,” she said, aware that her heart was breaking. For him. For them. Their split was inevitable and it was coming so fast. Four weeks.


Make them count, she thought.


His eyes flashed up to hers. He had such beautiful eyes. Green and gold.


“I meant what I said, Frankie. I want you to come with me. You’d be fantastic and I know we can work together.”


She kissed him on the forehead. “Shh.”


He captured her hands. “I phrased it badly before, but you really can’t live your life for your family. Staying here and working yourself to the bone isn’t going to bring your parents back.”


She stood up and he let her go. “I know that.”


“Do you?” he prompted quietly.


Going over to a window, she looked out at the lake. She couldn’t expect him to understand. He’d turned his back on his family because they couldn’t accept who he was. Worse, he’d been burned tragically by his association with the Walker name. So there was little possibility he could appreciate how much her sister and Grand-Em and White Caps meant to her.


But then his words came back to her. If she lived her life only for her family, what did she really have that was her own?


Hell, maybe she was the one with the problem. Maybe she was totally blinded by the past. Incapable of seeing her future.


“Frankie, I’m not sure you get it.”


“Maybe you’re right.”


And for the first time, she tried to peel away from her vow to her sister and her responsibility for Grand-Em and the weight of keeping White Caps going. She just breathed in and out while staring at the water, trying to let go of her regrets.


Knowledge came slowly, but it was the deep kind, the in-your-soul kind. White Caps wasn’t just home, a relic to her family. It was also where she herself belonged.


She turned around. “The thing is, I love it here. I truly do. I might have some fantasy about what life in the big city would be like, but the thrill of that would pass. When I was younger, when I was with David, it was different. I was different. But I’ve found my rhythm, I really have. And it’s in the seasons of this place.”


How funny that she was just figuring that out now. Tonight.


“I don’t want to stop seeing you,” he said, staring at her hard.


She closed her eyes. So it wasn’t just business for him, not just casual sex. She felt the bones in her body loosen and realized she’d been carrying around so much tension. There had been so many words unspoken, feelings unrevealed. Until now.


“Oh, Nate. I don’t want things to end, either.”


She heard him rise from the chair, the wood creaking as his weight was lifted.

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