Heart to Heart Read online

  The waterfront wriggled with tourists going in and out of the old train station. It had been remodeled to house what looked to be a farmer’s market, local artisans, a couple of antique shops, a restaurant boasting New England clam chowder, and a few fancy little coffee shops.

  Still, vestiges of simpler times could be seen. As she rounded a corner, Leigh realized why they were all moving at such a parade pace. A pick-up truck towing a lobster boat inched along the busy road, making it impossible to pass. Why the hell did slow-moving vehicles have to pick rush hour to leave the marina?

  Leigh followed, annoyed by the long line of impatient drivers behind her. The car directly behind hers was so close she could practically read the guy’s thoughts.

  “What do you want me to do?” she said out loud, making eye contact with him in the rearview mirror and throwing her hands up.

  A banner sporting a picture of The Watford Sun’s historic mansion caught her eye. Across the top, the words, “The Country’s Oldest Daily Newspaper” brought her thoughts crashing back to the day’s events and to a certain dark-haired editor. She’d gone in there to talk about her father, but he’d been so distracting in a casual linen shirt and jeans, that in the end, she wasn’t sure what she’d said to him. She groaned. How would she command respect at her new job at The Star if she turned into a blushing idiot every time she talked to a guy with a firm jaw and a nice smile? All right. He wasn’t just any guy. He was quite possibly the most self-possessed man she’d ever met. And the hottest.

  With his jet-black hair, deep set eyes, and aquiline nose David oozed danger and sex. His Native American heritage lent his skin a warm hue she thought would look great wrapped around her alabaster body. Leigh tried breathing in through her nose and out her mouth to calm herself, just like she’d learned in yoga class. Or should she inhale through the mouth then exhale through the nose? Maybe if she’d gone to more than one class, she’d have a fighting chance at resisting his appeal. One thing was sure. Whether because of the yogic breathing or David’s charm, she was beginning to hyperventilate. She swallowed and focused her attention on the road ahead. Besides, there was no sense in getting all wound up about him. Tomorrow she’d go back to New York, and forget all about him.

  Zeus yawned then straightened as another car pulled up next to them, a small child glued to its window.

  All he had to do was die to bring you back, David’s voice still echoed. Although he had apologized for being out of line, he was right. She’d blamed herself every day for the past eleven years. Eleven years, one month, and three days, to be exact. Leigh rubbed her brow then twirled a stray curl while she waited for the traffic to move. Outside, the wind kicked up, blowing leaves and sand around.

  She inched past the harbormaster’s dock and office. The small craft warning flag flapped in the wind from the flagpole at the operations building, a sure sign a storm was on its way.

  She’d met David on a similar day, home from Sussex Academy for the weekend. Her father, not knowing what to do with a fourteen year-old girl, had taken her to the paper, as always. That’s where she’d seen him for the first time — wild black hair and eyes that matched, an old leather bomber jacket over his wiry frame. She’d blushed all the way from her shoes to her pigtails and looked away, mortified he might notice her mouth full of hardware. David had extended his hand stiffly as his long wet hair dripped into his eyes.

  Well, David was a far cry from his paperboy days. He had worked for her father ever since and had, over the years, become Ben Cameron’s right hand man. And what a man he was, Leigh thought, remembering the fire in his eyes when he’d questioned her. She frowned and cursed a red pick-up truck that cut her off and almost hit her front right fender. How could she be thinking of him at a time like this?

  • • •

  David drove up the long tree-lined driveway to the manor. He caught his breath as the old Georgian came into sight. He’d been to the house countless times over the years and yet he never ceased to be taken by its charm. Tonight, the house stood solemn and still against the stormy sky, the only visible lights emanating from the front hall and library. He parked in front of what had been Ben’s home and sat, breathing in the warm evening air wafting through his open window.

  The English gardens glistened in the waning light. Droplets of the day’s showers still remained on the grass, and the sun’s warm rays peaked through the branches as it set over the horizon. David breathed in the damp sea air heavy with the low tide smells of mud flats and tidal marsh.

  He turned to see Andrea coming down the block drive to the Georgian’s graceful portico.

  “You gonna sit out there all day, Buster?”

  He grinned and jumped out of the Jeep. Andrea still had that small-town waitress charm despite having been married to Ben Cameron for fifteen years. He met her in the driveway and offered his arm. With her chipper tone and bright smile, it was clear she was handling Ben’s passing much better than he expected. That was one of the things Ben loved about her. She had always been a strong woman who could stand on her own.

  They entered the grand hallway that ran the entire depth of the building. On either side were two rooms, separated by a fireplace. Ben loved having company, and he and Andrea had hosted many dinner parties in that house. And, he supposed, Ben and Vivian before that.

  She ushered him through a large foyer flanked by two curving staircases. Flashes of the last reception he’d attended clouded his vision. It had been a small affair to which only the paper’s staff had been invited. The women had been led to the parlor for cocktails while the men met in the library to smoke cigars and discuss politics — each group warmed by a roaring fire. It all felt very old-fashioned and yet, rather fitting for a reception held for the employees of the country’s oldest daily.

  Andrea handed him a heavy-based tumbler, pulling him out of his thoughts.

  “Thank you.” He smelled then sipped the amber liquid. Sweet, smoky, and warm oak-flavored fumes washed over his taste buds and burned up to his sinuses. Scotch. Very expensive and old Scotch. David looked around. Every rare object, every painting reminded him of Ben’s impeccable taste.

  When alone, the Camerons seldom spent time in those rooms, preferring to live in the more modest second and third floor quarters. Still, the master bedroom alone was bigger than the one-room apartment David had shared with his mother growing up. He wondered which of the six bedrooms was Leigh’s. How could she not be happy coming home to a place like this every weekend?

  She was barely back in town forty-eight hours, and she had already managed to get under David’s skin. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. She was nothing like the women he was used to dating. For one thing, she was far more stubborn. And much better dressed. She was always so perfectly put together, it made her almost unapproachable. Still, there was something gentle and almost vulnerable beneath her cool exterior. Not to mention she’d gone out of her way to tell him she’d been touched by his eulogy.

  “I just love this time of year, don’t you?” Andrea asked, interrupting his musings. “Everything is lush and new again.” She kicked off her shoes, a pair of pink heels, and dropped her shawl on a wingback chair.

  “I do. You’ll have to let me take you out on Serendipity,” he said, referring to his sailboat.

  “That would be lovely, David, but don’t you have some pretty little thing you’d rather be going out with? You know, I know a young woman who’d love to spend an afternoon with you.”

  David smirked. Andrea had been trying to fix him up with her personal trainer for weeks.

  “Are you still taking those spinning classes?”

  “Yes, I am,” she said with a touch of pride. “Got to keep myself busy. With Ben gone, I won’t have much to do.” She smiled sweetly, her eyes with the faraway look one gets when remembering. “We had started gardening together. Did he mention it?”

>   David grinned at the thought of the large man planting perennials wearing a sun hat and flowered gloves. “I’m not surprised. He could do anything.” Ben’s pursuits were many and he’d never been deterred by what anyone thought he should or shouldn’t do.

  “It’s stuffy in here, don’t you find?” She walked over to the windows. “Let’s get some air in here.”

  David watched as she pushed and pulled on the first double-hung pane, trying, in vain, to get it open. “This latch has been sticking for weeks.”

  “Let me help you with that.”

  “It’s okay. I’ve got it. I asked Ben to hire a handyman to fix it, but he said he wanted to do it himself.” She struggled with the latch again, getting more frustrated. Her eyes filled with tears. “Oh David, what am I going to do without him?”

  David put his arm around her and gave her a reassuring squeeze. Clearly her chipper mood was all bravado. “You’ll be fine.” He pulled out his Leatherman tool from his pocket. “Here, you have a seat. I’ll take care of it.”

  • • •

  Zeus’s big, furry tail thumped with glee against the passenger door as they drove up the long driveway to Oak Hill Manor. He seemed to recognize the grounds and whined in anticipation of his pending freedom.

  Leigh pulled up behind David’s Jeep and scanned the lot for Bruce’s Lincoln Town Car. No sight of him. She was hoping he’d be here first. The more people there were around the dinner table, the less she’d have to interact with David and Andrea.

  She opened the door and Zeus bounded out of the vehicle after some imaginary foe or cheeky squirrel he’d glimpsed during their last visit.

  She followed after the dog into the gardens, in no hurry to head inside. She didn’t trust herself to be alone with David lest she let on she found him attractive. A girl could only endure so many awkward silences before filling in the gaps with too much information. Besides, if Andrea even suspected she was attracted to her husband’s right hand man, she’d be sure to embarrass her somehow.

  The rain had finally subsided, lifting the humidity from the air. She ambled through the gardens, breathing in the fresh scent of wet grass and soil while she waited for Bruce to arrive. She followed the sinewy path through the gardens and found herself by the gazebo at the top of the hill.

  Her father had built it for her mother for their fifth wedding anniversary. Under it hung the traditional red cedar swing Vivian Halston had loved so much. The wood seat faced the gardens, the perfect place for a romantic tête-à-tête. Her parents had spent many a summer night there whispering and laughing as she’d slept on her father’s lap. Tonight, the swing sat motionless.

  Leigh sat and breathed in the balmy evening breeze. Zeus followed and after some hesitation, put his front paws on the moving bench. “C’mon buddy, you can do it,” Leigh said to the dog lifting his hind legs onto the swing. “You’re not tall, dark, and handsome but you’ll do,” she said, rubbing his soft, furry head. She closed her eyes and listened to the light breeze rustling the leaves around her.

  She’d all but forgotten how much she used to love this place. She rocked back and forth, listening to the echoes of her parents’ voices and laughter in her memories.

  As much as she hated to admit it, she’d missed the small town of Watford, where she’d felt safe, loved, and cherished. She’d had an idyllic childhood, spending summers in the impressive white clapboard residence with the extended pediment. But her life was elsewhere, now, and those lazy summer days spent lying on her father’s lap were long gone.

  Zeus growled, drawing Leigh from her thoughts. The roar of a car engine drifted from the road, muted at first, then louder. Through the leaves of the large sugar maple in front of her she saw a Bruce’s Town Car coming up Blackburn Road.

  Leigh put her hand through Zeus’s collar to stop him from running out to the vehicle and after a moment, Bruce cut the motor and the surrounding birds resumed their happy sunset chant.

  She would wait a few more minutes, then follow him in.

  • • •

  David looked around the dining room table at the people he’d come to consider family. Across from him, Bruce sat, his reading glasses perched on his forehead. He stared back and forth from the door to the empty chair next to him, absentmindedly running his index finger along the rim of his wine glass. To his right, Andrea rocked, picking at some invisible spot on the tablecloth. She seemed so forlorn he barely recognized the cute and gregarious waitress Ben had fallen in love with some twenty years before. To his left and at the head of the table, Leigh’s and Ben’s chairs sat empty.

  Just then, the freckled beauty walked in, her faithful German shepherd in tow. Remembering his manners, David stood. Andrea looked at the dog with apprehension and seemed to shrink into her chair. “I see you brought your boyfriend to dinner.”

  “I’m sorry. I couldn’t leave him outside again. He gets anxious if we’re apart too long.” Leigh wound the dog’s leash around her hand. “He’ll sleep under my chair — you won’t even know he’s here.”

  Andrea glance darted from the dog to its owner, and she recoiled in her seat. Leigh waited in silence. “Of course, dear.”

  A small smile tugged at corner of David’s mouth. He knew Andrea was afraid of animals. And he couldn’t help but be amused by Leigh’s obvious insurance that she’d be seated as far away from her stepmother as possible.

  After an uncomfortable moment, Andrea nodded in acceptance. David’s gaze followed Andrea’s, and he stared at Leigh, unable to look away.

  Bruce rose. “Hello dear.” He put his arms around her in a silent hug.

  “Uncle Bruce,” she said, her voice was soft but steady.

  David scanned Leigh’s expression. Nothing. If he hadn’t known better, he would have mistaken her for someone going to a business meeting rather than a woman who’d just lost her father.

  A subtle trace of wild roses tickled David’s nostrils as she took her place next to him. She’d gathered her rebellious red curls into a loose knot at the base of her neck. Aware he was staring, David pulled his gaze away.

  Bianca, the Cameron’s longtime cook and house manager, came in carrying a serving tray covered with mini filo cups filled to the brim with some kind of new cuisine take on scallops. Aromas of garlic, lemon, and fresh seafood flooded his senses, reminding him he hadn’t eaten since morning. David’s mouth watered.

  Bianca served Andrea and Leigh, then Bruce and he, following the old-fashioned etiquette that required female guests be served first, male guests next, in order of seniority and importance. He smiled at her, uncomfortable. No matter how many times he visited, he never got used to being waited on with such deference.

  A trace of Leigh’s sweet perfume wafted over as she stirred in the seat next to him. David’s mind drifted back to their heated encounter in Ben’s office. His groin tightened as he remembered the fire in her eyes. He wondered what it would be like to feel her silky curls on his bare chest.

  “Try the roasted red pepper sauce,” Andrea said, waving Bianca over with the dish, “no one makes it as good as Bianca.” She smiled and gulped the rest of her wine, her lightheartedness belied by the amount of alcohol she was ingesting.

  David obliged, smiling at the cook. “Delicious.” Clearly, Ben’s widow had grown accustomed to the posh lifestyle the mogul had provided all these years. They’d kept Bianca on staff and still employed a cleaning lady despite a troubled economy and The Sun’s less than stellar yearend report. But now that Ben was gone, there was no telling how much longer she’d be enjoying all the creature comforts she’d grown accustomed to.

  “So, Leigh dear, are you still living on the Upper East Side?” Andrea asked.

  “I’m in the Meat Packing District, now. I bought a place there last year.”

  Andrea scrunched up her nose. “Well, I know New York is expensive. I gue
ss you have to take what you can get.” She leaned in closer. “But I’m sure it’s very nice.”

  Leigh bristled and returned a sweet smile. “It is. In fact, Brad Womach just moved into my building.”

  “Oooh, really? I love The Bachelor. Is he as handsome in person? Have you met him?” Andrea was an avid reader of tabloids and she was obsessed with reality TV stars. And obviously Leigh was smart enough to realize this nugget of information would be enough to turn the conversation around.

  “Not yet.” At Andrea’s obvious disappointment Leigh added, “but we both use the gym in the mornings so it’s just a matter of time.”

  “Well, don’t wait too long. You need to make your move before he and Emily get back together. And you’re not getting any younger. ”

  David and Bruce looked up from their main course of baked haddock with lemon dill breadcrumbs. It was obvious Leigh would have a harder time keeping the conversation civil after that comment.

  “Leigh, how’s it going at The Star? You still on the entertainment beat?” Bruce beat David to the punch, changing the subject.

  “Actually, I just got promoted to Arts and Entertainment Editor,” Leigh said, obvious pride in her tone. “I start my new job as soon as I get back.”

  So, she was an editor for one of the country’s most successful dailies. The Watford Sun must seem like small potatoes in comparison. Still, no matter how high up the food chain you went, the Entertainment beat was still fluff. David’s glance wandered from Leigh to Andrea and back to the urbanite again.

  Andrea caught him staring and gave him a smile. “David, you should have Leigh write a piece for The Sun while she’s in town.”