“Sweetie, who is this?” her mom asks.
“He’s no one, Mom.”
Ouch, that stings, but it’s deserving.
“Can we talk?” I ask as I point to the porch swing. It takes a moment, but London steps forward and places her hand on the screen. She hesitates before pushing it open and stepping out. I back up, giving her a wide berth. London glances at her mom and in a silent exchange, her mom nods and shuts the door. I appreciate the privacy even though I haven’t earned it.
No, I take that back. I have. What my dad, stepmom and Alyssa did to London is on them, not me. I’ve been completely honest with her about how I feel and how I feel about that side of my family. I’m nothing like Yates and Vance, which I suspect she probably thinks isn’t true.
London sits down and as much as I want to sit next to her—as much as I can picture us on this swing together, watching the sun go down—I rest against the railing. I want to pull her into my arms and apologize for everything that happened on Saturday, but I’m afraid that if I try to touch her, she’ll run.
We sit in silence for a bit, with her rocking back and forth and staring off, while I look down at the decking. I’ve cleared my throat a couple of times but am having trouble finding the right words to start my diatribe.
“You came a long way just to sit on my parent’s porch,” she finally says. “I’m not even sure why you’re here or why I’m sitting outside with you. I don’t like liars and I definitely don’t like rich boys.”
I nod. “I’m not a liar, London. I have never lied to you. The rich boy part, there isn’t anything I can do about that.”
She scoffs. “How did you even find me?”
“Kim,” I tell her.
“Kim? Kim texted you and told you where I was?”
I shake my head. “Her location services are on.”
“Stalker,” she mutters.
“I am.” I agree wholeheartedly with her. “And that should tell you something.”
“Just tells me you’re a stalker, following me all the way from Rhode Island to Maine. If you think I’m going to be some side piece, you’re crazy. People like you disgust me. You think you can have your cake and eat it too. That you can have your fancy house, trophy wife, with your prefect kids while you bang the waitress down the street and pay her rent to keep your dirty little secret at bay. That’s not me.” She points to her chest. “I deserve better than that.”
I grimace at the way she says those words. “The fact that I’m here, should tell you something London. I would go to the ends of the earth for you.”
She scoffs again. “Don’t you mean Alyssa? Does she know you’re here slumming it?”
I push off the railing and drop to my knees in front of London. She doesn’t bother stopping the swing from moving forward and smacks into my chest. I groan. She mumbles an apology and stops moving her foot. I take a chance, a big risk, and place my hands on her thighs. I expect her to punch me or push me away, but she doesn’t.
“I don’t even know where to start with that comment, London. Not once have I ever made you feel like you are beneath me in anyway.”
She glances at me and I can see a tear falling from her eye.
“When I got to where my family sat for the regatta and couldn’t find you, I thought you got called into work or something. It wasn’t until I saw Alyssa and people started congratulating us on our engagement that I knew something had happened. When my mom told me everything, I had never felt so sick in my entire life.”
“Imagine how I felt seeing that ring on her finger or thinking you were getting ready for the race when you were actually fucking her.”
Her words make me bristle. How Alyssa could be so mean is beyond me. “The night before the race, I was on my boat. I wasn’t anywhere near Alyssa. She put it there, London. Not me. When my stepmother saw you sitting with my mom, she called Alyssa and they concocted this whole plan. I am not, and have never been, nor will I ever be, engaged to Alyssa Worthington.”
“Why would they do that?” she asks through a stream of tears.
“Because they’re bitches. They don’t care who they hurt as long as they get what they want.”
“I am hurt,” she whispers.
“Me too. And I’m angry. I’m so pissed off at my father for encouraging his wife to be tactless, and for him thinking he can control my life like this. To dictate who I’m with. He of all people shouldn’t judge anyone for who they fall in love with since his wife used to be a stripper.”
London’s eyes go wide and I nod. “Yep, he cheated on my mom with her.”
“They said some pretty nasty things to me.”
I move from my position and sit down next to London. This time, I take the risk and pick her hand up, threading our fingers together. “My mom told me. I hope you know that I would never say those things about you, and I don’t look at you as someone who isn’t my equal. I meant what I said about Dawson’s. I want you to run the restaurant, to make it your own. I want us to be partners. I wish I could tell you to ignore what my dad said, but I know how words linger. I will never ask you to forgive him or forget. You can hold a grudge for the rest of your life, and I’ll support that. People like him and my stepmom, don’t deserve someone like you in their life.”
London turns slightly, rocking the swing into motion. “You said ‘people shouldn’t judge anyone for who they fall in love with’.”
I bring her hand to my lips and press a kiss there. “London, I am falling in love with you, and I’m falling fast. Ever since you started at the yacht club, I’ve wanted to ask you out. If I had then, it wouldn’t have been fair to you or Alyssa, because she and I were together. But when we broke up, all I could think about was getting back to the club to see you. That night I arrived, and you were working, I told myself that this was my chance. Our time.”
London leans forward and kisses me. It’s chaste but perfect. As much as I’d love to make out with her, I have a feeling her mother is lingering by the window.
“You know, I saw a barn behind the house. I’ve never done the ‘roll in the hay’ thing.”
A hand comes down hard on my chest and I cower. “Sorry,” I mutter while trying to control my laughter. I look deep into London’s eyes and say, “In all seriousness, London. Come back to Newport with me. Be my partner at the marina, but more importantly, in life. I don’t want to spend another night without you by my side. Three years has been long enough.”
9
London
ONE YEAR LATER – September
Max has done it again with another Kingstown Regatta win! I stayed long enough to be by his side for the main interview, but I had to get back to our restaurant. That’s right…our restaurant. The past year has been a whirlwind of craziness. Sometimes I don’t even think it’s all real. Max won the regatta again without Vance and Yates as his mates. They competed against him, but they were no match for Max. And tonight, we celebrate. Not at the yacht club, and not at any of the other hoity toity places Max used to frequent all the time, but at our own pride and joy…Dawson’s Restaurant and Marina. We could’ve named it something else, but Max wanted to restore the old place to its original charm. It belongs to us both, Mr. and Mrs. Max Richmond. That’s right, we’re married! Instead of having a huge wedding, we eloped to the Maldives and only had our close family and friends there. It’s been the best five months of my life. So far, at least. I know more good times are about to happen.