Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
TAMSYN
Early the following evening, I arrive back at the main house after a walk around the grounds to discover a surprise waiting for me in the form of Maddie standing at the open front door. With a baby.
“ Oh my God, ” I cry, swooping in and losing all good sense the way I normally do when a baby enters the picture. Especially one like this , a little three-month-old whose chubby cheeks and thighs, sweet toes, downy brown hair and bright brown eyes make me want to eat them. I tickle the back of the baby’s knee, earning a delightful squeal and giggle. “Who is this? Who is this ?”
“This is Jordan,” Maddie says with a new mother’s pride before giving him a fat kiss. More squirming and giggling ensue. “We’re just back from his checkup.”
“Did you get a checkup, Jordan? Were you a good boy for the doctor? Yes, you were?—”
“What’s all this?” Lucien barks behind us. “Maddie, I told you to find Tamsyn for me.”
I frown at him over my shoulder, then return to the baby, who’s now wearing a vague expression of infant concern. “Ignore the grouchy man, Jordan. I won’t let him hurt you. No, I won’t.”
“I did find Tamsyn for you, Lucien. Here she is.” One of Maddie’s brows is up, which doesn’t seem like a good sign for Lucien, who scowls accordingly. “Tamsyn, Lucien wants you to join him in his study. He has a guest.”
“Thank you for that tardy but helpful communique, Maddie.” Lucien comes over and gives Jordan a reassuring pat on the back. He starts to turn away, then pauses to stroke the baby’s head with surprising tenderness. Jordan gives him a gummy smile in return.
Seeing them together sends a powerful jolt of baby fever. I clear my throat and turn away, determined not to feel it, just as Lucien gives me a kiss on the cheek.
“Tamsyn, there’s an old friend I’d like you to meet,” he says.
“Sounds good,” I say, recovering enough for a final knee tickle for the baby, who grins again. “Bye, Jordan. Bye!”
A silence descends as we set off. It’s not quite awkward, but it sure isn’t normal, either.
“I didn’t know you, ah, like kids,” Lucien says as he steers me toward the study.
“I love kids,” I say, consumed by my post-baby-encounter glow. “I used to babysit all the little neighborhood kids. I made enough the summer I turned thirteen to buy my first phone.”
He dimples, pulling me in for another kiss. “That’s my girl.”
“So who am I meeting?”
“I just invited an old friend over for drinks,” he says, ushering me into the study and gesturing to the dark-haired middle-aged woman sipping a martini and enjoying the bay view from the window. “Dr. Manjeeri Sharma, this is my girlfriend, Tamsyn Scott. Tamsyn, Manjeeri is the head of Northridge Health here in Great Neck.”
“Oh, you’re a doctor,” I say, smiling and extending my hand as she walks over.
“Gastroenterologist,” she says as we shake.
Lucien hovers near the drink cart. “Drink, Tamsyn?”
“I’m good for now,” I tell him before turning back to Manjeeri and gesturing to the sofa, where we both sit. Lucien, meanwhile, pours himself a scotch and settles on the nearest wing chair. “I’m an RN.”
“Yes, that’s what Lucien was saying,” Manjeeri says. “What kind?”
“Well, I did some home health care for an elderly patient at the beginning of the summer, but I’ll begin a job back in the city in the fall. In the oncology department.”
“Oh? Oncology is tough work.”
“Yes, I know. My father died of cancer last year, so I know what a difference they made in his life.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Manjeeri says.
I feel the familiar lump in my throat. “Thank you.”
“We don’t have an oncology department at Northridge, but we do have a shortage of nurses. I don’t know if Lucien mentioned that to you.”
“No,” I say, starting to get a funny feeling that intensifies when I shoot him a quick glance and discover him studying his fingernails with a determinedly bland expression. “He didn’t.”
“I’d love to have you come to the medical center for a tour in the next few days to show you what we have to offer. Maybe see if we can poach you from Manhattan. We need more nurses out here in Great Neck. They can fend for themselves back in the city.”
Oh, okay. I get it now. I shoot Mr. Manipulative a veiled death stare, but he’s now smoothing a crease in his pants and can’t be bothered to look at me.
“Thank you for thinking of me, but I couldn’t possibly break my contract.” I try to sound regretful. “You understand.”
Manjeeri has a pretty good poker face. I’ll give her that. “Oh, no. I was hoping you’d come in for a meeting. Maybe see if we could work something out.”
“I’m sorry.” I keep my voice firm and stand to let her know I’m not angling for a big pay increase or bonus package or anything like that. Maybe it’s not my place, since I didn’t call this little career summit, but I feel terrible for wasting this nice woman’s time. “I can’t.”
She stands, too, and can’t help giving Lucien a puzzled glance over her shoulder as she sets down her drink. “I completely understand.”
I extend my hand again, determined to remain calm and keep things professional. Dad always told me to never burn any bridges. I don’t intend to start now. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Dr. Sharma. Thank you for your time. I’ll certainly reach out to you if things change.”
She nods and smiles, her own professionalism firmly in place. “Please do. Lucien, thanks for the drink.”
He hastily stands and ushers her toward the door, his irritated gaze flickering to me as he goes. “Let me walk you out.”
The two of them head for the foyer, leaving me to fume in impotent silence as I listen to their murmuring voices. Especially when I hear a couple of key phrases from Lucien, such as, I’m going to talk to her about it and I’ll call you in a day or two. We’ll circle back .
By the time he returns, I’m ready to grab one of his pricey knickknacks off the nearest table and aim it at his head. “What the hell was that?” I say as he shuts the door behind himself.
He’s got his expression wiped clean of anything other than polite puzzlement at my tone. He shrugs, the soul of patience in the face of my unreasonableness. “I made an introduction. What’s wrong with that?”
An introduction ? Is he serious? “What did you do? Buy a cancer wing for me?”
“Of course not,” he says, jaw tightening. There’s a pause. “We already have a cancer wing.”
Incredulous laugh from me. Of course he does. “And I already have a job back in the city. Which I earned through my own contacts and my own hard work. Did you forget about that?”
“I did not. I thought you might like to work out here. Closer to Ackerley.”
“Don’t you think that’s the kind of thing you should discuss with me before you bring in your high-powered friends for impromptu job interviews?”
The suggestion seems to stymie him. “I had an idea. I acted on it. What’s wrong with that?”
Outrage nearly prevents me from getting anything out. “You’re not sorry at all, are you? You don’t see how manipulative this is, do you?” I have a sudden flashback of when I discovered that he’d manufactured the whole private tour scenario to get Mrs. Hooper out of our hair back on the cruise. He set it all up just so he could spend time alone with me. We had this discussion back then, when he admitted to his machinations. I thought I’d impressed on him the need for direct communication and honesty, but I guess not. Looks like I need to do it again now and be a lot more emphatic about it. “Why not try basic communication with a simple request or suggestion? Why does everything need to be some elaborate secret scheme with you? Is it just because you’re filthy rich and the rest of us are puppets in your world? Even me?”
He grimaces. “I see what needs to be done and do it. I’m used to making executive decisions. The end. There’s nothing more to it than that.”
I’m trying to come up to speed with his thought process here, but I’m having a tough time. “What are you talking about? I already have a job in the city. I already have an apartment in the city. Nothing needs to be done at all. It’s all set.”
He presses his lips together and says nothing for two or three eternities. He’s got the air of a brain surgeon deciding which artery to clip before his patient on the operating table strokes out. “We need to discuss that.”
That’s when the light bulb belatedly goes off over my head. Is he alluding to wanting me to stay here at Ackerley? To live here? My heart swoops. “What’s really going on here?”
“Nothing I want to get into now. Not when you’re upset.”
“I’m upset because you can be too overbearing and protective sometimes,” I say quietly, determined to deescalate. Especially if he has our future in mind. “I’ve told you that before.”
A shrug. “I’m a little protective with you, yes. You know that.”
“A little ?”
“Stop being dramatic.”
He’s so controlling. It’s his nature. He can’t help himself.
I stiffen. The one thing I don’t need at this tense moment is an unwelcome interjection from Ravenna, but there she is, sounding sly and triumphant in my head. “I’m not being dramatic. It’s how I feel. Doesn’t that matter to you?”
He huffs out a breath, taking way too long to answer. He’s like a cyborg frantically trying to compute an answer that would fool the humans. “Of course that matters,” he finally says, easing down a little. “If you’d just think about the suggestion, you’ll realize how much easier your life will be if you work nearby. Think of all the time you’ll save without that commute. And what do you really have to keep you in the city?”
I find myself wondering if he’s got a point…if I really need to be so close to my friends, even though some of them have scattered now that we’re out of college…if Lucien’s feelings aren’t more important than my plans for myself or my love of the city…
And that’s when Ravenna barges back in.
He controlled every thought in my head. I never did anything without thinking about whether he’d be pleased or not.
“Oh my God,” I say before I can stop myself. “Ravenna warned me about this.”
“What?”
“She basically said you controlled every decision she made. That you slowly took over all her thoughts.”
His mouth twists. His brows sink. A vein rises in the center of his forehead and begins to pulse in time to his clenching jaw.
“You’re throwing her in my face?” he says, his voice deathly quiet now. “You believe her ?”
I’m always with you, Tamsyn.
“I don’t know what to believe sometimes,” I say helplessly, fighting the urge to press my hands to my ears and block out the unwelcome voice that’s coming from inside my own damn head. “You both accuse each other of being controlling.”
He can barely get the words out. “Maybe you should believe that this is exactly the kind of poison she wanted to plant in your head. Doubts about me. About us. Do you want her to win?”
“ Win ? This isn’t about winning .”
A derisive laugh from Lucien. “It is to her.”
“This is about us .”
“How much us is there if you don’t have more faith in me that that, Ms. Scott?”
It’s a fair question. We stare at each other for a hard few seconds, deadlocked.
I shove Ravenna away and focus on the issue at hand: Lucien acting in my so-called best interests without consulting me first. I don’t want to make such a big deal out of this that I ruin the night or even the next ten minutes. But he needs to understand that his approach will never work for me. “I don’t think you understand. I don’t like it when you do things behind my back and keep me in the dark about your motives. That’s all I’m saying. I need a boyfriend. Not a filthy rich puppet master who uses his money to get whatever he wants without discussing it with me first.”
He comes closer, his expression darkening even further. “I don’t think you understand. I will do whatever it takes to protect you. Don’t expect me to apologize for that. Ever.”
Wait, what? Protect ?
“Protect me? From what? Life?” I say with a disbelieving laugh. But then I remember what he told me yesterday about his mother’s disappearance and death. And that wasn’t even the only time that a woman in his life disappeared on him, was it? That particular lightning bolt has struck him twice. First with his mother, then with Ravenna’s “death.” No wonder he’s so protective. I get it now. Those traumas would leave their mark on anyone. But Lucien being Lucien, he’ll never just come out and say it. “Wait. This is about what happened with your mother, isn’t it?” I say, my heart suddenly aching for him.
There’s a flash of something in his eyes, but it disappears before I can analyze it. Then his expression closes off, leaving a brick wall overlay on top of his handsome face. “Anything that might harm you. Don’t expect me not to fight for what I need. That’s not who I am.”
“ Need doesn’t involve manipulation. Not in a healthy relationship.”
He scoffs. “I’m not?—”
“The funny thing is, I want us to have a future together. I want to talk about it. But I want you to treat me like your equal even if I don’t have money like you do.”
“Ms. Scott.” Crooked smile. “You’re the only equal I’ve ever had in my life. It’s a shame you don’t know that. It’s also a shame that we both want a future together but you keep letting Ravenna inside your head.”
“I don’t mean to.”
“Then stop.”
“I’m not sure I can. How am I supposed to un-hear everything she said?”
He stares me dead in the face. “Your faith in me should be louder than her voice.”
Oh, God. He’s right. And with that realization, I’m suddenly all talked out. I head for the door before these grand Ackerley walls completely close in and collapse on me.
“ Tamsyn. Where are you going?” he calls after me.
“To the cottage,” I say, sudden exhaustion setting in. “I need to think, don’t I?”
“You can’t take off every time something pops up,” he says. “I’m going to burn that fucking cottage to the ground so you have nowhere to run off to. Then you’ll have to stay here and work things out with me.”
That flares me right up again. “News flash: that would be another manipulation, wouldn’t it?” I say with a hollow laugh as I swing the door open and hurry through it. “What a surprise. You being manipulative.”
I have the delicious satisfaction of slamming the door in his thunderous face before he can respond. At least until I turn the corner and come face to face with a startled Ted and Maddie, who are striding down the hallway talking animatedly. Luckily, they dodge and separate to make room for me before I plow them down like a runaway horse, then stare after me with concerned expressions.
“Sorry,” I say, ducking my head with embarrassment and going straight to the stairs up to Lucien’s bedroom. I need to pack a few things for my lonely and no doubt painful night alone in the cottage.