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Authors: Gail Gaymer Martin

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BOOK: Loving Hearts
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“You’ve got the dynamic duo plotting against you, and that’s why you don’t want to come to the party. I understand.”

“Right, but I look at Rachel’s tears, and…” Her voice faded as she brushed her finger across her eyes. “I don’t have it in my heart to say no.”

“Look, Esther.” He paused, monitoring how he would tell her the plan generating in his mind. “I’ll be there, and maybe I can help thwart Rachel’s matchmaking.”

“How can you do anything?” She leaned forward, her face a mixture of disbelief and hopefulness.

“If I’m hanging around you, the other guys will have the good sense to steer clear.”

“But…”

The waiter’s appearance halted her thought, and Ian took advantage of the situation. “Let’s see how it goes. Okay? It might work.”

With the waiter within earshot, Esther only nodded in agreement.

Ian dragged in a calming breath. Good fortune—maybe the Lord—had given him a prime opportunity. He bowed his head, thanking God for the food and for the unexpected opportunity.

Chapter Six

E
sther stepped out of Jeff’s car and looked up at the Bay Breeze penthouse. She’d never been inside the private rooms of the resort. As she followed Rachel and Jeff into the hotel, she realized she’d allowed that detail to pacify her objection to coming along. Being here at all sat heavily on her spirit.

No matter how she dealt with it, even Ian’s offer to keep her company didn’t make her happy about attending the Fourth of July celebration. Besides the matchmaking situation, she felt uncomfortable, knowing she really didn’t belong with this group. She wasn’t a politician, a big business exec, or a Bay Breeze employee. Her claim to fame was Jeff’s desire to marry her sister. That was it.

Entering through the employees’ entrance, Esther stood with her companions and waited for the private penthouse elevator. From her understanding, Philip Somerville lived in the rooms on the top floor of the resort.

The doors slid open and she stepped inside, catching a whiff of Rachel’s perfume. Esther rarely wore a fragrance, but tonight she’d splashed on the one cologne she liked—a unique blend of flowers and herbs a library visitor had given her as a gift from the Isle of Capri.

Esther had been embarrassed that the woman had rewarded her for doing her job. All she’d done was pull together travel information about Italy for the woman. The subtle aroma drifted from Esther’s warmed skin and made her think of palm trees, blue water and sun-kissed sand.

When the elevator doors opened, Esther stepped into an expansive terrazzo foyer. She was greeted by voices and laughter coming from a great room that lay ahead of her. Feeling terribly out of place, she edged behind Rachel as they entered the room.

Through an archway she spotted a formal dining room enticing people inside to investigate the trays of hors d’oeuvres and platters of desserts she could see in the distance. Stepping sideways, she hoped to vanish into the less occupied room, but before she escaped, Jeff dragged over the first prospect.

“Esther, this is Jim Mason. He works the registration desk.”

Esther nodded. “Hi. I believe we’ve met.”

For a heartbeat his face blanched with no obvious recognition, but Esther saved the day.

“I dropped by a few days ago to talk with Ian Barry. You buzzed him to say I was on my way down the hall.”

“Right,” he said, looking relieved. “I remember.
Yes.” He moved closer to her side. “I didn’t know your name then. Now I do.”

“You do,” Esther said, watching Rachel and Jeff glide away into the crowd, filled with hope. “I was just heading in to look at the buffet.”

“May I get you a drink?” he asked, moving along beside her. “Wine or a cocktail?”

“Nothing alcoholic. Just a soft drink. Thanks,” she said.

A curious look spread across his face. “Okay, a soda it’ll be.”

He scooted past her, heading for the beverage table beyond the overflowing dining-room table. Esther paused and eyed the fare. Shrimp, mushroom caps, ham roll-ups, pâtés, cheese, veggie tray, crackers, dips of all kinds. Not really hungry but needing something to distract her, she lifted a luncheon-size crystal plate and selected a sampling of appetizers.

When Jim reappeared, she accepted the drink, then stood beside him with both hands full, trying to figure out how she could juggle them to taste the snacks.

“Let’s join the others,” Jim said, beckoning her to follow.

If she’d had a choice, Esther would have dropped both items and dashed for the elevator, but she clung to one hope—Ian. He’d promised to save her. Esther hadn’t seen him when she arrived, but thinking back, she realized she’d made a dash for the dining room without looking around.

Praying Ian was there somewhere, Esther followed Jim into the great room. Observing him with unbi
ased eyes, she admitted he was a clean-cut, nice-looking guy. Though she saw nothing wrong with him, she knew he’d been primed to get to know her better, and that in itself turned her into a warrior.

Guests mingled around the room—some standing in clusters, others seated in conversation areas, but Esther was intrigued by filtered sunlight spreading patterns on the beige carpet. She directed her gaze toward the French doors that opened to a wide balcony. As she neared, she could see fading sunlight spilling over the Lake Michigan horizon.

Though she preferred the quiet and less crowded second-floor terrace, she followed Jim, trying to balance her plate and drink as she maneuvered. He finally halted beside a small group of what she assumed were co-workers. As she tried to hold her drink while grasping a mushroom cap from her plate, a hand touched her shoulder, and her heart leaped when she turned and saw him.

“Hi. I’ve been looking for you,” Ian said.

A sense of security flooded her, and she felt her tension ease. “I wondered where you were.”

Jim drew back and eyed Ian, his face unsmiling. “I take it you two are friends,” he said.

“That’s right.” Ian rested a hand on Esther’s shoulder. “I’d like to borrow her if you don’t mind.” He sent Esther a comforting look.

“No problem,” Jim said. A slight frown settled on his face.

“Philip Somerville wants to meet you. He’s pleased with the proposal,” Ian said, linking Esther’s arm in his. “I told him you’d be here.”

“You didn’t,” Esther said, her emotions giving way to disbelief. “Did he wonder why I was here?”

“He acted as if he knew,” Ian said. Before moving away, he took Esther’s drink from her. “Let’s find a quiet spot, and I’ll introduce you after you finish your plate.”

She didn’t care one iota about the food, but feeling protected, she drifted along behind Ian as he passed through the dining room and took a hallway to the right. At the first doorway he turned and she followed.

He’d led her to a study. Philip’s, she assumed. The room had character—not leather and dark wood, but a brighter arrangement with windows looking over the resort’s patio grill with flower gardens in the distance.

Royal-blue-and-beige-patterned upholstery looked homey and comfortable. She followed Ian’s lead and sat on a matching chair, relieved to find a place to sit instead of balancing drink and plate. “It’s hardly worth it,” she said, gesturing to the food. “I only took it for something to do. My stomach’s in knots.”

Ian chuckled. “Eat up. It’s good stuff. I think Jemma made some of it.”

“Who’s Jemma?”

“Philip’s wife. She’s a nice woman. A lot younger than he is. In fact…” He hesitated as if thinking better of it. “Someday I’ll tell you a funny story about that.”

A noise at the door caught their attention, and Esther followed Ian’s gaze toward the doorway.

“Philip,” Ian said, rising. He swung his hand to
ward Esther, motioning. “This is Esther Downing. You asked to meet her.”

The good-looking man with salt-and-pepper hair extended his arm toward her in greeting, a warm smile on his face. “Nice to meet you, Esther. Thanks for coming.”

“Thank you for…having me,” she said. She’d stopped herself from saying “inviting me,” since she still wasn’t sure how she happened to be there.

“I don’t know if Ian’s told you, but I’m very impressed with your proposal,” Philip said.

“Yes, he just mentioned it. Thank you, Mr. Somerville.”

“Philip, please,” he said. “I think you’ve covered all the bases, and I’ve answered some of your initial questions.”

His compliment pleased her.

“Ian said he’d go over the points with you.”

“That’ll be fine,” Esther said, feeling a nudge of eagerness. “I’m hoping I can keep the time line I set, but I’ll try.”

“That’s all you can do.” He nodded as if punctuating his statement, then turned to face Ian. “I see you found a quiet place to talk.”

“Yes, sir, I hope you don’t mind. Esther was balancing her plate and drink—”

“My house is yours, Ian.” He hesitated, then chuckled. “Actually, my place will be somebody else’s soon.”

A frown sailed across Ian’s face. “Come again.”

“Jemma wants us to buy a house. And soon.” He gave Ian a sly smile.

Ian’s frown shifted to a look of pleasant surprise. “Anything you want to tell us?”

Philip eyed him with a sheepish grin. “We’re announcing it before the fireworks tonight, but I’ll let you in first on our secret. Jemma’s expecting.”

Ian’s face brightened with genuine delight. “That’s wonderful. Congratulations.” He grasped Philip’s hand and gave it a firm shake. “I’m really happy for you.”

“Thanks. I never expected to be a father. Never in a million years. I think you know how much my life changed when Jemma came to town.”

“I remember.” A faint flush mottled his neck. “Very well.”

Philip stepped to his desk and grasped a leather folder. “My calendar. You’d think these people would just enjoy the evening, but no. One of the city council members wants to make an appointment.” He lifted his hand as he headed for the doorway. “Don’t rush. It’s nothing but noise out there.”

With a smile he vanished around the corner, and Esther sat amazed at the dynamic gentleman she’d just met. “He’s quite the man.”

Ian nodded. “He is. He and his father turned a small hotel into this prosperous resort and made it look easy.”

“His father’s retired?” Esther asked.

“He died a few years ago. Philip inherited everything. His brother, Andrew, had opted out years earlier for a split of his share, to do his own thing. He hasn’t been back that I know of. Even missed his father’s funeral.”

“There must be hard feelings or something,” Esther said, wondering how anyone could miss his parent’s funeral.

“He calls here once in a while. I think they’ve just grown distant.” He stood and gestured toward the door. “Ready? I suppose we might as well let Rachel and Jeff see someone’s taking care of you without their influence.”

Esther grinned and rose, grabbing up her plate and glass.

When they passed through the dining room Ian took the dishes from her hand and set them on a sideboard before guiding her into the great room.

Esther’s mind slid back to what he’d said earlier. Something about telling her a funny story about Philip’s wife. She sensed it also had something to do with Ian. Could Jemma be the woman in the photograph on his credenza?

“Have you checked out the balcony?” Ian asked as they entered the great room.

“No. Not yet.”

He took her arm and steered her through the crowd, greeting people as he passed.

When she stepped outside, the view roused her spirit. Once again the sun sprinkled golden accents on the water, and with Ian beside her, she was glad she had come. Though the sunset cheated them of one of the more dramatic shows, lilac and peach hues painted the bottom of the fluffy clouds.

A warm breeze ruffled the skirt of her dress, and she smoothed the fabric, then leaned against the railing and took in the full sweep of water, earth and
sky. “It’s beautiful. I’m sure it’ll be difficult for Philip to move from here.” She pivoted and eyed the sprawling upper windows that made up the penthouse. “But it’s no place to bring up a child.”

“I’m sure he’s enjoyed it while he lived here. Time and experience change our lives—sort of what Philip said earlier.” Ian leaned out and pointed down the beach. “You can see Philip’s sailboat from here.”

“Nice,” she said, following the direction of his gesture. “Does Jemma sail?” The question left her before she stopped herself. Why bring up sailing or Jemma? Whether the photo in his office was Jemma or not, Esther didn’t need to be compared to someone more flexible. More adventurous.

“She enjoys it, I think. Jemma came from a difficult family background. I suppose sailing and pleasures like that were alien to her before meeting Philip.”

Esther paused. So Jemma’s life had been different. The news surprised her. As Ian had said, time changed lives. Jemma’s had changed for the good. Maybe Esther’s life would take a turn one day.

“Look who’s having fun.”

Hearing her sister’s voice, Esther pivoted toward the French doors. “Rachel.” She brushed a stray hair from her cheek and motioned toward the water. “Lovely view.”

“Nice,” Rachel said.

Jeff stood at Rachel’s side and slid his arm around her shoulder. “How would you like a place like this?” He nuzzled Rachel’s hair with his cheek.

“I’d be happy anywhere with you,” she said, tiptoeing to reach his lips with a quick kiss.

Embarrassed by their affection, Esther cleared her throat. “Rachel, have you met Ian Barry?”

“He’s the one with the library card, if I remember correctly. We met at the restaurant downstairs.” She extended her hand. “Nice to see you again.”

Esther cringed at her forgetfulness.

“He’s the assistant manager,” Jeff said, his voice emphasizing the position. Still, he didn’t hide his pleasure at finding Esther and Ian together. “Since you’re in good hands, I think we’ll go inside and let you two alone.” He gave an obviously dumbfounded Rachel a wink, and they returned to the great room, arm in arm.

“See. It worked,” Ian said. “They think I’m an enamored admirer.” After he realized what he’d said, an uneasy look swept across his face. “Not that I’m not.”

“You don’t have to play the game with me, Ian.” His attempt to cover his faux pas left Esther uncomfortable. She knew he had no real interest in her. He’d offered to be her friend and to save her from Rachel’s matchmaking. That’s all Esther expected. Yet a feeling of disappointment inched through her. What more did she want? Irritation replaced her dejection.

From his expression, Esther knew Ian felt uneasy, too. She wished she could say something to undo her remark, but nothing came to mind, and she focused on the sun sinking behind the horizon with the speed of a lead ball.

Darkness stretched across the water as quickly as spilled ink. People began to drift onto the balcony. Soon the fireworks lit the sky, made more magnificent by their reflection in the water. Rachel and Jeff stood beside her and Ian. Detecting a reminder in Ian’s subtle look, Esther allowed him to slide his arm around her back and draw her closer while they praised the spectacular display.

His actions were all part of the game, she knew, but a secret feeling of pleasure settled in her stomach—a closeness and familiarity she’d never shared with anyone.

BOOK: Loving Hearts
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