“The shit hit the fan, of course.” Deirdra’s gaze softened, and she said, “I’m sorry, Abby. I know I promised to help you go through Mom’s things this week, but this is my—”
“It’s okay,” Abby said, cheerily masking her disappointment. Deirdra was a corporate attorney for a major Boston tech company. Abby knew how much pressure her sister was under and how overwhelming her schedule was. It had only gotten worse since her promotion last year. Even though they were very different by nature, they usually enjoyed each other’s company, and they used to make time to see each other one weekend each month, but ever since Deirdra’s promotion, those get-togethers had been few and far between. They hadn’t seen each other since their brief visit with their mother over Christmas.
“I can handle going through Mom’s things. Like I said last night, I’m here for however long it takes, so I have plenty of time.”
“Even the junk room?” Deirdra arched a brow.
The famed junk room, aka the Bermuda Triangle, was down the hall from the kitchen. Abby was pretty sure it was meant to be the master bedroom because it protruded from the back of the house, had two walk-in closets, a full bath, and three walls of nearly floor-to-ceiling windows, offering exceptional views of the water. They had used it as a playroom when they were young, and even back then the closets had been packed with boxes. Sometime after their father died, it had become the junk room—a catchall for everything from outgrown toys and clothes to broken furniture.
“That might take a bulldozer,” Abby joked. “I don’t mind doing it alone. I was just looking forward to spending time with you, beyond the Mom stuff and the restaurant.” She lifted one shoulder and said, “I miss you, Dee. You know what? After you’re done with whatever you’re dealing with at work, if you can’t come to see me, I’ll come to Boston and hang out for a weekend.”
“Thank you for understanding, but I’ll be back my next free weekend. I don’t want to leave you with this nightmare.”
“It’s only a nightmare to you because you resent Mom so much. What’s happening at work, anyway? What’s so dire that they need you back so fast?”
Deirdra gave her a deadpan look. “You know my work is confidential.”
“Really? I’m your sister. Who am I going to tell?” Abby opened the fridge and dug out a water bottle. “Fine, keep your lips sealed and I won’t tell you about the hot guy I met when I was out running.” She opened the bottle and took a drink as she sauntered out of the kitchen.
“If you’re talking about Wells Silver, I’ll slaughter you for even looking at the hot two-timer,” Deirdra called after her.
Abby had gone out with Wells briefly in high school, until she’d found out that he was also seeing her best friend, Leni Steele. They’d both ditched his cheating ass. She went upstairs to her bedroom, remembering the chicks-before-dicks pact she and Leni had come up with after that. But while Silver Island had three primary schools, it had only one high school, and before long they’d forgiven Wells for his indiscretion. Mostly, anyway. Leni still carried a chip on her shoulder about it.
She turned on the shower, and as the water heated, Aiden’s sexy smile and serious eyes pushed to the forefront of her mind. She touched the back of her hand, thinking about his warm, soft lips and the spark of heat in his eyes when he’d said, I go down, you go down. Her body shuddered with the tease of something more.
She stripped off her clothes and stepped into the shower, wondering if she’d misconstrued heat for mischief. Even if she had, a girl could fantasize, couldn’t she? She closed her eyes, letting the water rain down her face and body, and imagined Aiden’s dark eyes and tantalizing lips and his rich voice whispering in her ear, Only for very special people . . .
CHAPTER TWO
“I CAN’T BELIEVE you’re wearing a dress. I haven’t seen you in a dress in years,” Deirdra said as they climbed out of Deirdra’s car at the Bistro, where they were meeting Shelley. “You look great, but I swear to you, if that’s for Wells . . .”
“It’s not for Wells. We haven’t seen Shelley in months, and I want to look nice for her.” Abby wasn’t about to tell her that she’d dressed up in case she ran into Aiden again. It felt good to wear something pretty. She’d paired a floral sundress with a dressy button-down, which she’d left open, and wore cute ankle boots. She felt young and fresh, which was a big change from the woman who stood behind ovens for sixty-plus hours each week. She was never going to give up being a chef, but maybe she could fit in a few days each month of doing something just for her. “Besides, look at what you have on. Who wears a blazer at the beach? That can’t be comfortable.” She thought of Aiden’s khakis and loafers and almost allowed her mind to put the two sharp dressers together. But she wasn’t that generous.
“It’s soft and extremely comfortable, thank you very much,” Deirdra said as they walked around to the front of the restaurant.
Abby’s hopes deflated at the sight of the empty patio. She imagined him hauling the table and chair he’d brought back to his room at the resort with his newspaper and book tucked under one arm. She’d been silly to get her hopes up. What did she think? That a handsome, charming guy like him had nothing better to do than sit on a patio all day to see if she returned? He probably had women at his beck and call.
“Don’t you think it’s weird that Mom needed Shelley to go over her estate with us?” Deirdra asked, pulling Abby from her thoughts. “It’s not like she had anything more than the house and the business.”
“I’m thankful Shelley was there to help her. But everything Mom did was weird, don’t you think? She never even told us she was sick. I keep thinking about the last time she called, two weeks before she died. She was saying goodbye, but she never gave us a chance to say it back.”
When Shelley had called to let Abby know their mother had passed away, Abby had asked her why their mother hadn’t told them she was sick or given them a chance to come home and be with her to say goodbye. Shelley had said that she didn’t want to be more of a burden to them, and she hadn’t wanted them to remember her as bedridden and sickly. She’d said it was bad enough that she’d been drunk for half their lives. On some level Abby appreciated that, but to Deirdra it was another strike against their mother.
“That was Mom,” Deirdra said. “Selfish as the day was long.”
Abby was hurt by Deirdra’s cold tone. “She missed Dad.”
“So did we, Abby. It was her job to take care of us, not the other way around.”
Same talk, different day.
Abby opened the door to the restaurant, and they stood in the entryway, taking in stacks of dusty tables and chairs, candle votives, and other restaurant paraphernalia. The wallpaper looked ancient, not elegant as she’d remembered. The rafters that had once held fancy lights were covered with cobwebs, as if the romantic decor of their youth had been only a dream. With the windows boarded up, the room felt cold and desolate, as ignored and cluttered as their mother’s house.
“It smells like a mausoleum,” Deirdra said.