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She stepped through the door and saw the place as a stranger might, battered and battle weary, revealing every scar and wound.
The rooms were crammed full of furniture, ornaments, books, old maps.
Nancy couldn’t bring herself to throw anything away.
Some of the windows were rotten, the paintwork in the entryway was chipped and there was a large empty space on the wall where she’d removed that damn seascape.
She’d told Jenna she’d taken it down so she could decorate. The truth was she loathed that painting. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say she loathed what it represented. She would have burned it if it hadn’t been for the fact it might still have a purpose.
She opened the door and looked at the man standing there. She had to tilt her head and look up because he topped six feet and dominated her doorway.
She’d first spoken to him five years before on what could, without drama or exaggeration, be described as the worst night of her life. Those years had left their mark on her. Not, it seemed, on him.
She had no idea how old he was, but she would have guessed midthirties.
His eyes were a cool blue and shadowed by secrets. His mouth, well shaped and firm, rarely curved into a smile. His jaw was dark with stubble and the sweater he wore had probably been deep blue at some point but had faded to a washed gray hue.
Had she really expected him to show up in a suit and tie? No. He looked exactly the way she’d expected him to look. Why would he shave before knocking on her door? He wasn’t the type of man who was remotely interested in social conventions or the opinions of others. He lived life according to his own rules and that, as it turned out, was lucky for her because five years ago he’d helped her when no one else would.
She felt a pang of envy. What would her life look like now if she’d been more like him? If she’d been braver?
“Thank you for coming.”
It was ironic that he should be the one to help her out of her current situation.
She needed him, and yet at the same time she hated him for taking from her the one thing she had left in the world. And truthfully she had no idea how he would respond to what she was about to say. He was unpredictable, a man you could never be sure of.
She almost laughed aloud. Was there a man alive you could be sure of?
“Mrs. Stewart.” His voice was somewhere between the rough, sexy drawl of a whiskey drinker and the low growl of a jungle cat. It occurred to her that if that voice hadn’t been attached to a man she’d grown to trust, it might have left her feeling uneasy, as would those narrow watchful eyes.
“Thank you for coming. It was good of you.”
“I was surprised to get your call. I thought it might be a mistake.” His handshake was firm but that didn’t surprise her. It had been his physical strength, among other things, that had saved the both of them that night.
“No mistake.” The mistakes, she thought, had been made long before. “You’d better come in. There’s something I need to say to you.”
5
Lauren
Party: a social gathering, for pleasure,
often held as a celebration
Lauren checked her list and made a final sweep of the house.
She knew the place looked good.
She’d poured her interest in interior design into her own home, and while Mack was in school she learned trade skills such as paint effects and upholstery. She filled notebooks with photographs and sketches and shopped for fabric and objects. Gradually she’d transformed their London home into an elegant space perfect for family living but also for entertaining.
Occasionally friends asked for her advice on decorating and Lauren was always happy to help. She had an eye for space and color and could see potential in the most run-down, tired property. It wasn’t luck or hard work that gave her the ability to see what others didn’t, it was an artistic talent no doubt inherited from her mother. Possibly the only trait she’d inherited from her mother.
And finally she had a qualification and could start taking on paying clients.
Her home was the best advertisement for her skills and abilities, and tonight at Ed’s party there would be people who might potentially give her business.
She’d already decided to set up her own company but had yet to decide on a name.
