Chapter 8
CHAPTER
EIGHT
AVA
“Ava, it’s Matthew.” Yes, the stand-in receptionist never did leave. Somehow we managed to persuade him over to the dark side with donuts and free booze. “Do you know where Mr. Salinger is? Nobody’s answering his phone.”
I look at his office, though I know he’s out. “He isn’t here,” I tell Matthew. “Send him an email, he’ll get it when he’s back.”
“There’s somebody here to see him. A Mrs. Salinger.” There’s a little murmur on his side of the line before he continues, “Sorry, her name is Linda. Mr. Salinger’s mother. She says she has an appointment with him.”
“I’ll come down and get her,” I tell him.
“You’re a star.” Matthew hangs up before I can change my mind.
I’m already exhausted and it’s barely lunchtime. I’ve been in since six this morning. It didn’t escape my notice that somebody – okay, Myles – cleared my desk last night, and saved the report I’d left hanging on my laptop.
Thankfully he’s been out of the office all morning, so I haven’t had to face him after last night. If I’m lucky, I’ll make it through the weekend and by Monday it will have been forgotten.
A minute later, I walk into the lobby and Matthew points at a woman standing by the window, looking out at the street.
And the first thing I notice about her is that she isn’t a fragile old lady at all.
She’s beautiful, with long blonde hair that’s perfectly styled and make up that somehow makes her skin look dewy and youthful.
“Mrs. Salinger?” I say.
She turns and smiles, and it’s dazzling. I wonder if Myles’ smile is similarly breathtaking.
I suspect I’ll never find out.
“It’s Linda, please,” she says breathlessly. “I’m so sorry to put you to all this trouble. I arrived a little early and thought I’d surprise Myles.”
“It’s no trouble,” I tell her. “Why don’t you come up to his office and I’ll call him to let him know you’re here?”
“Oh, no need to call him. At the worst I’ll meet him at the restaurant he’s booked. I’m just interested to see where he works.” She looks around the lobby. “This is very different to his office in New York.”
“This building has been here for almost two hundred years,” I tell her, inclining my head at the elevator. “Shall we?”
“Oh my.” She presses her hand against her chest. “A gated elevator. I remember these from when I was a tiny girl.”
Unlike her son, Linda Salinger is extremely easy to talk to. By the time we reach the third floor, I’ve learned that she divorced from Myles’ dad years ago, that she divides her time between New York, the Hamptons, and Florida, and that she loves her sons very much.
“You really brought up four boys?” I ask her.
“Six, if you include my stepsons.” She frowns. “Well, strictly speaking they’re not my stepsons but it’s easier if I call them that. Rupert’s boys from his second marriage. They used to come stay when Deandra – Rupert’s wife after me – needed a break.”
“Wow. That must have been mayhem.” I try not to look surprised. There’s a lot going on with the Salinger family.
She laughs. “It was, but I miss those days. I couldn’t turn my back on them for a minute.
Otherwise they’d be balancing buckets of water on the tops of doors and gluing down the toilet lids.
Myles was the worst of them, being the eldest.” Her face lights up as she mentions his name. “No wonder I went gray so young.”
I try to imagine Myles Salinger playing tricks on people, but my brain won’t compute it. He’s too serious. Too sullen.
“This is Myles’ office,” I say, pointing to the corner room that was once Richard’s and now belongs to Myles. At least for the interim. “Would you like to sit in there? I can get you a coffee?”
“Oh no, I’d prefer to sit out here where the action is,” she says, looking around the bustling open plan area.
Ryan’s birthday banner is hanging half-off, but he’s still wearing the crown Catherine made him.
Ella, our intern, is carrying files back from Myles’ office, balancing them precariously like she’s at etiquette school, trying to demonstrate her poise.
And in the corner, the three-strong finance team is arguing heatedly over yesterday’s ball game.
I pull a chair out next to my desk, and Linda sits down, still wide eyed and looking around. “So this is where my son works,” she says. “It’s lovely. It reminds me of those screwball comedies in the nineteen-fifties.” Her eyes twinkle. “Which makes you Doris Day. Or possibly Barbara Stanwyck.”
I smile, but have no idea what she’s talking about.
“Do you work closely with Myles?” she asks when I sit down next to her.
“It’s a small office,” I tell her, dodging the question. “We all work closely with each other.”
“It’s okay, you don’t have to be nice about him,” she says, taking a sip of the water I got for her. “I know he can be a grump. I was just hoping that the change of scenery would help his mood.” She wrinkles her nose. “Is he hell to work with?”
“Um… no.”
Her laughter tinkles through the room. “It’s okay, I won’t tell him.”
“Tell me what?”
The man himself is towering over us, wearing a navy suit and white shirt, no tie.
He’s freshly shaven and his hair is brushed back, though a few locks have fallen over his brow.
He looks like he could be at home in a boardroom or the French Riviera.
There’s something timeless about him that makes my heart do a little leap.
“Myles!” Linda’s face splits into a smile. Love for her son seeps out of every pore. “Darling, it’s so good to see you.”
He leans down to kiss her cheek. “You look beautiful, Mom,” he tells her. “And you’re early.”
She pats her hair. “I wanted to surprise you, but you outmaneuvered me.”
The corners of his eyes crinkle. He looks like he adores his mother.
It makes my chest feel tight.
“Since you’re here, let’s head for the restaurant.” He holds his hand out to help her out of the chair.
“Won’t we be early?”
“I’ll buy you a cocktail if we have to wait.” He glances at me. “Everything okay here?” he asks, his face neutral. He makes no mention of last night’s shenanigans and I’m grateful for that.
“Everything’s good.”
“It’s Friday. I assume you’ll be pouring everybody a glass at four.”
I nod. “If that’s okay with you.”
“What’s that?” Linda asks Myles. “What kind of glass?”
“It’s Fizzy Friday,” he says dryly. “Everybody gets a glass of cava to celebrate.” His eyes catch mine. “It’s a tradition.”
“How lovely.” She tips her head to the side. “Such a nice way to end the work week.” She holds her hand out to me. “It’s been wonderful to meet you, Ava. Thank you for taking good care of my son.”
Our gazes clash again. His expression is still unreadable, his mouth slightly parted, his jaw square and strong. And for a moment I shiver, remembering the way he held me last night.
“It’s a pleasure,” I murmur, and there’s the slightest movement in the corner of his lips.
“I’ll be back later,” he says. “Call me if there are any problems.”
“I will.” I watch as the two of them walk out together, her face raised to him as she smiles and says something I can’t make out.
Then I hear something weird. A chuckle. And damn if I can’t see his face. He’s laughing and I missed it. For some reason that irks me.
Next time I’m determined to be in front of him when he does it.
MYLES
“You look different,” Mom says, her eyes appraising me over the top of the leather-bound menu she’s holding. “I don’t think you ever take your tie off in New York.”
“I’m trying to adapt to my surroundings,” I say dryly. “If you hadn’t noticed, nobody wears a suit at Smith and Carson.”
“It’s not just that,” she says. “You look refreshed. Less tired. Being away from the big city suits you.”
“Charleston’s a city,” I point out.
“Technically, yes. But it feels like a town, doesn’t it? Full of quaint shops and friendly people. It’s nothing like New York at all.” She puts the menu down and leans forward conspiratorially. “My only complaint is the smell. There are these trees that smell disgusting. What are they?”
There’s no way I’m talking about jizz trees with my mom. “I’ve no idea. Maybe you were near some trash.”
“Anyway, I like it. You seem more relaxed away from New York. Happier, even.” She tips her head to the side.
She’s had some work done in the past. Nothing too obvious but it works for her.
The waiter brings over our drinks – a martini for Mom and a coffee for me.
She lifts her glass and smiles. “Shall we make a toast? To family and happiness.”
I lift my coffee cup. “Ditto.”
After she takes a sip, she puts her cocktail down and steeples her fingers, resting her chin on the tips. For a moment she says nothing.
“Spit it out,” I tell her, smiling because she never could hide her ulterior motives. “Tell me why you’re really here.”
“To see my son. Isn’t that enough?”
“Sure. You came all the way to West Virginia so I’d buy you a cocktail,” I tease.
“You were on my way. I’m spending the weekend with your father and Julia.”
“Why?” This is the one thing I never understood about my parents. If they like spending time together so much, why did they split up?
“Julia needs some help planning their vow renewal. There’s a lot to organize.”
Julia is my father’s third wife. Well, fourth strictly speaking, but we call her the third, because nobody mentions dad’s first wife. It’s like my mom and Deandra – his wife after mom – have adopted Julia. They’re thick as thieves.
“I don’t understand why they don’t have the ceremony and let everybody go home. Why mix it in with a family reunion?” I ask.
“Because your father wants his family there. And if you’re going to the effort of traveling to see him then he’d like to spend some quality time with his boys.” She gives me a sad smile. “You used to love spending time at Misty Lakes.”
Misty Lakes is the name of my father’s estate in Virginia. Complete with a sprawling mansion, a huge lake surrounded by cabins, and enough land to get lost in. It’s where he spends most of his time nowadays, since retiring from a career in finance.
“I did when I was a child,” I tell her. “It gave me the opportunity to throw Liam and Eli into the lake.”
“If I ask them, maybe you can do it again,” she says hopefully.
“Even if I wanted to, I can’t afford to take a week away from work right now.” And I don’t want to go. Not at all.
“You must be owed some time off,” she points out. “Your father will be so disappointed if you’re not there.”
“He never took a week off when we were growing up,” I point out. That’s why my mother and Deandra had to bring us up. And why I had to watch my brothers so much.
She reaches out to touch my hand. “Just come for a few days. The weekend, at least.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose with my fingers. “Mom…”
It’s like she can sense blood. In the office I’m known for my stubborn refusal to be swayed. Yet a touch of a hand from my Mom and I’m toast.
“Do it for me,” she whispers. “Please, darling.”
I sigh loudly, because I never should have agreed to this lunch. I knew why she’d come here and I’m still falling into her trap. The only woman in the world who knows exactly how to play me.
“I’m not making any promises,” I say. “But I’ll take another look at my schedule.”
She sits back and folds her arm across her chest, a triumphant expression on her face.
And I know for certain that one way or another I’ll be going to Misty Lakes.