The Last Autograph (A Reluctant Kiss #3)

Chapter 16

16

The Bay of Plenty had been Molly’s home until she left at eighteen to further her studies, and that Thursday, as she drove along winding roads through fern forests, past the entrance to Grant’s Pond and into Tulloch Point’s main street just on dusk, a sense of nostalgia embraced her like a warm hug from an old friend she had nothing in common with anymore.

It had been only a few months since her last visit home, but so much had happened during that time that it seemed a lifetime ago.

Her parents had lived in the central part of town for over thirty years, and Molly had fond memories of an uneventful but blissfully happy childhood—her mother tending colorful begonias in the glasshouse while her father lounged in the living room, reading Childs and Baldacci novels and taking after-dinner calls from clients.

To Molly, her introverted father and extroverted mother seemed an unusual fit in the romantic sense, but they’d been married since university days, and she’d seldom heard them exchange an angry word.

She often considered relationships, pondering whether two extroverts would stifle each other and if opposites really did attract. And as Molly left her car and opened the front door of her family villa, it seemed especially cruel to her that the only man she’d been attracted to in the past few years was the twin brother of her last true infatuation.

Jake Sinclair.

The following day, Molly rose early and drove to Sandwater Bay, a long stretch of golden-sand beach where she and CeCe spent their younger days dancing around summer bonfires and making out with boys in the back seat of souped-up cars before racing home late for their eleven o’clock curfew.

Happy days.

Molly parked at the northern end of the beach and walked along the shore, flip-flops in one hand and phone in the other, as a warm breeze puffed in from the south. Apart from a few surfers and a couple walking their dogs, the beach was deserted, and she liked it that way. It gave her the freedom to think—to reminisce and evaluate.

Confused by the legalities surrounding estates, she’d sent Annabelle’s email with Jesse’s will attached to her father, a lawyer who specialized in farming trusts and property law, as soon as she received it. His advice had been much the same as Luka’s—sit tight while the legal process does its thing, then decide what to do with the money once the ink’s dried on the dotted line.

He also pointed out that the document wording stated only percentages. Molly was due to inherit twenty-five percent of Jesse’s life insurance payout but there was no indication of the actual amount. Even once the insurance company released the funds, they’d sit in the lawyer’s trust account until everything was finalized, so there was no need for hasty decisions.

She’d thought about it when lying in bed the night before. At first, she’d wanted nothing to do with the money; it seemed macabre and almost bizarre that Jesse would even consider her. But, as her father had mentioned, a few extra grand would come in handy, especially if she did decide to visit the UK once her SpinWeb contract ended.

Molly stopped walking when her phone vibrated in her pocket. Unable to read the screen in the sunlight, she answered with her name.

“Hi, it’s Jake. Sorry to call so early.”

Jake?

“ No problem. How are you?”

“Yeah, good. If you have a minute, I’d like to talk to you about Jesse’s will.”

Molly dug her toes in the sand, the swash flowing around her feet cool and cleansing. She’d thought he might be calling to suggest a coffee date. Why, she had no idea. And would she have said yes? Perhaps. But Jesse’s will—why did they need to discuss that? “Okay.”

“Anyway, settlement may take longer than we expected.” He cleared his throat. “Unfortunately, someone’s contested the will, and as you’re beneficiary, I thought you should know.”

She could tell by his tone of voice that he wasn’t happy. “So, it was unexpected?”

“Depends on who you talk to. Have you had any legal advice yet?”

“Yes, well, my father’s a lawyer, so I’ve discussed it with him, and I’m… Anyway, he’s advised me.”

“Okay, good. According to Annabelle, this could drag things out for months.”

Molly didn’t know what to say. Growing up in a family where the legal profession was like a third person in her parents’ marriage, she’d learned at an early age to ignore anything that didn’t concern her. The problem was, Jesse’s will couldn’t be ignored.

“One other thing.” She heard a sharp intake of breath down the line. “You’ve met Alexia, right?”

“You mean your stepsister?”

He huffed. “She’s not my stepsister. Mum dated her father for a while, but… anyway, just tread carefully where she’s concerned, okay?”

An image of Alexia and her pack of “it girl” influencers sashaying around the wine and food festival after-party appeared in Molly’s mind. Alexia had been sweet as pie, and despite some of her friends eyeing Molly up and down as if judging her, she’d enjoyed their banter. “So it’s her that’s contesting the will?”

“Yes, it’s her.”

Wow. “And I take it you don’t approve?”

“No. I don’t. But it’s just a process.”

Molly thought back to Alexia’s words about Jake and her having dated. It seemed there was no love lost on either side. “All right. Thanks for the heads-up.”

A brief silence followed. “Also, Annabelle suggested I set up a meeting with my father. How would sometime next week suit you?”

While she considered her response, a rogue wave crept up on her, soaking her leggings as it rushed around her shins. “Shit.”

Jake chuckled. “Okay. Not quite the answer I expected but noted.”

“Sorry, that wasn’t meant for you.”

“Are you at Petrie Bay? I can hear the surf.”

“No, I’m home in Tulloch Point for a couple of days.”

“You still call it home?”

“I guess I do. Have you ever been here?”

“Once, years ago. Jesse and I surfed at a beach called Sandwater Bay. Caught some epic waves.”

“That’s where I am right now. I love it here. It’s a great place for reflection.”

“Yeah, I guess it would be.”

Her thoughts returned to Jake’s comment about meeting with his father. For some reason, the idea filled her with dread. “And about your dad, I might think on that for a bit if that’s okay.”

“Sure.” He paused again. “And, Molly…”

Butterflies danced in her stomach at the sound of her name on Jake’s lips. It seemed that no matter your age, it was still possible to go all giddy when an interesting man said your name. “Yes?”

“Thanks for the ride the other night. I imagine it must have been weird having me judge you in the bake-off, given the circumstances.”

Jake spoke with a tenderness that conveyed they did indeed have a connection—something deeper than the situation they found themselves in. It seemed the more she got to know him, the fewer the comparisons between Jake and his twin became.

Even so, coming home had been more of an emotional tug than Molly anticipated. The last time she was here, Jesse was merely a confused memory, someone who occasionally occupied her recollections. However, as she’d driven past the run-down hotel where they’d once slow-danced into the early hours, the sorrow of Jesse’s death had intensified to the point where tears obscured her vision, and she’d had to pull over.

Sometimes, the fragility of life seemed so unfair.

“Molly? Are you still there?”

“Yes, sorry. And no problem. Enjoy your day.”

Molly ended the call before he could respond. She strolled toward the dunes, sat cross-legged in the sand, and gazed out over the bay. She’d seldom seen it so calm, making her suspect a storm might be brewing.

And then she remembered something—the autographed drumsticks.

Shafts of sunlight streamed through the attic window, reminding Molly of days past when she’d spent time with her head buried in a good book or digging around in their red brick box of LEGO for her hidden Easter eggs stash.

As she rummaged through her grandmother’s old glory box, searching for the pillowcase containing the drumsticks, Molly came across a box of photos from her childhood. Inside was a USB stick with the initials JS written on it in Sharpie.

Thinking she might give it to Jake, Molly stuffed the USB in her pocket before continuing her search. The pillowcase lay beside a stack of old fashion magazines, its percale now yellow with age. She removed the drumsticks and brushed her fingertips over the autograph, then found a place to sit.

Jesse had sent them to her a month after their liaison ended. No note. No phone call. She’d wanted to send them straight back, but the package held no return address, and the sentiment gave her hope that one day they might meet again, and with the maturity that time allows, perhaps she could thank him with a hug and a smile.

Unfortunately, that meeting wasn’t to be, and as she reminisced, a nostalgic sadness surfaced. In between all the angst and doubt, they’d had fun that summer, and some days, Molly believed that fun would last forever.

Moments later, with the drumsticks back in the pillowcase at her feet, Molly explored the bookshelf to her right. She’d just pulled out an old file when her father appeared through the narrow doorway.

“Hey. I thought I might find you up here.”

Molly smiled up at him from where she sat on a corduroy beanbag, the file resting in her hands. “Why’s that?”

“When you were little, you spent a lot of time ‘attic-sitting,’ as you called it. I’d often find you curled up in that very spot, reading.”

“Oh yeah. Remember those Baby-Sitters Club books? I loved them.”

“And Goosebumps .”

Molly laughed. “Where have the years gone?”

Her father studied her face. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

“Yes, fine. How was work?”

“Busy enough.”

She glanced up to the shelf on her right. “I was just looking for a copy of my will. All this business with Jesse has got me thinking about my own stuff. Admin makes my head spin.”

Her father chuckled. “Try running a law firm. We have the original at the office. I’ll send you a copy.”

“Thanks. Not that I have any worldly possessions right now, but I’m working on my savings.” Molly smiled and handed him the pillowcase. “Also, look what I’ve found.”

Her father pulled out the drumsticks and read the autograph out loud: “Jesse Sinclair. How long have you had these?”

“Eight years. I thought I’d give them to his brother. Seems the right thing to do.”

“What’s he like? Does he remind you of Jesse?”

“Kind of. Looks wise anyway. He’s… a no-nonsense kind of guy, but then I guess he has good reason to be that way. Jesse was carefree, if a little moody at times.”

“How come you never told us about him.”

“I don’t know. It was a fling, and a short one at that.”

“But meaningful?”

Molly hesitated. She’d carried Jesse’s rejection for all those years, but now she’d been forced to reassess those feelings. “Yes. To me, anyway.”

“It must have been to him too, otherwise why would you be in his will?”

“I’ve been asking myself that question ever since I left the lawyer’s office.”

He sat in a small chair that had once accompanied the desk in her bedroom. “Speaking of Annabelle Sutton, she’s cc’d me in on an email she just sent you. The insurance company’s confirmed Jesse’s payout.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Turns out his father was an insurance agent when the boys were young. Did you know that?”

Molly frowned. “Nope. I don’t know a lot about the Sinclairs. Did Annabelle say how much it was?”

“Substantially more than we anticipated. Four hundred thousand, meaning your share’s a hundred grand.”

“No way! A hundred grand? Are you serious?”

“That’s what she said.”

“A hundred thousand dollars… That’s insane. Why would Jesse do that?”

“Only you can answer that, but I suspect you meant more to him than you realized.”

Molly slotted the file back into the bookcase, fighting to keep her emotions in check. She’d always carry Jesse in her heart, and to discover he might have felt the same way about her was surreal.

Her father leaned forward and patted her on the knee. “Hey, come on. It’s okay.”

“He pushed me away when I could’ve been there for him, then left me all that money. Why would he do that? I never got the chance to be his friend… to hold his hand through chemo or take him on a road trip when he needed space, or even go to his funeral.” Molly swiped her sleeve across her face as tears welled. “He never gave me that chance… just cut me off.”

“Perhaps it was all too painful for him, and he wanted to protect you.”

She sighed. That scenario was the only one that made any sense, and the more often Molly heard it, the more she wanted to believe it was true. “Yeah, maybe. I’m still thinking about asking them to remove me. His family should get that money, not me.”

“I know you want to do the right thing here, but don’t do anything rash before you’ve had time to weigh up your options, okay?”

Molly nodded. “Okay.”

Her father stood and offered her his hand. “Come on. Let’s go throw some steaks in the pan.”

Molly took his hand and smiled as he pulled her to her feet. “You know I don’t eat red meat now, Dad.”

He chuckled. “Really? I thought that was just a phase.”