Holiday In The Hamptons

“I don’t know he’s married. I was just putting it out there, but clearly I shouldn’t have.” Ever practical, Harriet retrieved the glass and started mopping up water.

“You see? I can’t possibly talk to him because I’m not in charge of my emotions. But you are. You should definitely pretend to be me. That way you could have this conversation and get it over with and you won’t feel awkward.”

Harriet straightened. “I haven’t pretended to be you since I was twelve.”

“Fourteen. You’re forgetting that time when I pretended to be you in biology.”

“Because that sleazy creep wouldn’t stop tormenting me about my stammer. Johnny Hill. You punched him. How could I have forgotten that?”

“I don’t know. It was a great day.”

“Are you kidding? You had to have eight stitches in your head. You still have the scar.”

“But he never touched you again, did he? And neither did anyone else.” Fliss grinned and rubbed her fingers along the scar hidden under her hair. “You got a reputation for being scary. So you owe me. Go and see Seth. Be me. It’s easy. Just do and say everything you’d never do or say and you’ll be convincing.”

Harriet gave a wry smile. “You’re not such a bad girl, Felicity Knight.”

“I used to be. And Seth paid the price.”

“Stop it.” Harriet’s voice was firm. “Stop saying that. Stop thinking it.”

“How? It’s the truth.” But she’d paid it, too, and it seemed as if those payments never stopped. “If I could find a way to avoid seeing him, I would. I have no idea what to say to a man whose life I ruined.”

* * *

FOUR BLOCKS AWAY Seth Carlyle had his hands full of moody cocker spaniel.

“How long has he been like this?”

“Like what? Angry?”

“I meant, how long has he been limping?”

“Oh.” The woman frowned. “About a week.”

Seth examined the dog thoroughly. The dog snarled, and he eased the pressure of his fingers. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to hurt you. Just need to take a good look and see what’s going on here.” He kept his voice and his touch gentle and felt the animal relax under his hands.

“He likes you.” The woman looked at him with surprise and dawning respect. “Dr. Steve says you’re helping him out. Said you were a big-shot vet who worked in some animal hospital in California.”

“I don’t know about the first part, but the second part is true.”

“So why leave California? Tired of all that sunshine and blue skies?”

“Something like that.” Seth smiled and turned his attention back to the dog. “I’m going to run some tests and see if those will give us the answers we want.”

“Do you think it’s serious?”

“I suspect it’s a soft-tissue injury, but there are a few other conditions I need to rule out.” He gave some instructions to the vet technician, ran some tests and checked the X-ray. “We should limit his exercise.”

“How am I supposed to do that?”

“Make sure you keep him in a small space.”

“No more walks in Central Park?”

“Not for the time being. And give him some time in his crate.”

Once he’d completed the notes, he walked to Reception.

“Meredith?”

“Hi, Dr. Carlyle.” Her face turned pink, and she dropped the magazine she’d been reading under the desk. “Is there something I can do for you? Coffee? Bagel? Anything at all? You just need to ask. We’re so grateful to you for stepping in and helping out.” It was clear from the look in her eyes that anything wasn’t an exaggeration, but Seth ignored the unspoken invitation and the hopeful look in her eyes.

“I’m good, thanks. Did I miss any calls while I was in the clinic?”

“Yes.” She checked the notepad in front of her. “Mrs. Cook called to tell you Buster’s wound is looking better. One of the vet techs took the call. And Geoff Hammond called about his pooch. I put him through to Steve.”

“That’s it?” He felt a stab of disappointment, and Meredith checked again, desperate to please.

“Yeah, that’s it.” She glanced up. “Why? Were you expecting someone in particular?”

My ex-wife.

“No.” His reason for asking wasn’t something he intended to share.

He’d been waiting for her to come to him. Thinking about it, he realized he was treating Fliss much the same way he’d treat an injured, frightened animal. With patience. No sudden moves.

He couldn’t even pretend that perhaps she didn’t know he was here. He’d run into her brother, Daniel, on his second night in Manhattan. It had been an uncomfortable encounter, and it had been obvious from the tension heating the air that the animosity Daniel Knight felt toward him hadn’t diminished over time. Daniel would have told Fliss that Seth was in Manhattan. The Knight siblings were so close they might as well have been sutured together. He suspected that part of the reason for that was their stormy family life. Growing up they’d formed a bond. Seth didn’t blame Daniel for being protective of Fliss. Someone had to be, and it hadn’t been her father.

He’d met her when she’d been a leggy fourteen years old. She’d been part of the group who hung out together on the beach during those long, blissful summers in the Hamptons. At first glance she was indistinguishable from her twin, but anyone who spent a few minutes in their company would have known which twin they were talking to. Harriet was reserved and thoughtful. Fliss was wild and impulsive and attacked life as if she was leading an army into battle. She was first into the water and last out, swimming or surfing until the final rays of the sun had burned out over the ocean. She was bold, brave, loyal and fiercely protective of her quieter sister. She was also a daredevil, but he’d sensed a level of desperation to her actions, almost as if she wanted someone to challenge her. He’d had the feeling sometimes that she was living life just a little too hard, determined to prove something.

He’d known nothing about her family life that first summer. Her grandmother had owned the beach house on the bay for decades and was well-known in the area. Her daughter and children visited every summer, but unlike his own mother, who was actively involved in the local community both at the beach and back in their home in upstate New York, Fliss’s mother was virtually invisible.

And then one day the rumors had started. They’d trickled along the narrow lanes and into the village stores. A couple of people passing had heard raised voices and then the sound of a car driving too fast along the narrow island roads toward the main highway. The rumors spread from person to person, whispers and questions, until finally Seth heard them. Marriage problems. Family problems.

Seth had rarely seen her father. Almost all his impressions of the man had come from Fliss and Harriet’s reaction to him.

“Dr. Carlyle?” Meredith’s voice brought him back to the present, reminding him that his reason for being here was to move forward, not backward.

Since he’d arrived in New York he’d seen Fliss twice. The first time had been in Central Park on his first day in Manhattan. She’d been walking two dogs, an exuberant Dalmatian and a misbehaving German shepherd who had seemed determined to challenge her skills. She’d been too far in the distance for him to engineer a meeting, so he’d simply watched as she’d strode away from him, noticing the changes.

Her hair was the same smooth buttermilk blond, pinned haphazardly at the top of her head in a style that could have been named “afterthought.” Lean and athletic, she walked with purpose and a touch of impatience. It had been her attitude that had convinced him he was looking at Fliss and not Harriet.

She’d grown into a confident woman, but that didn’t surprise him. She’d never been short of fight.

He was desperate to see her face, to look into those eyes and see the flare of recognition, but she was too far away and didn’t turn her head.

The second time he’d seen her had been outside the office. The fact that she was hovering indecisively convinced him again that this was Fliss and not her sister. He guessed she’d been trying to summon up courage to confront him, and for a moment he’d believed maybe they were finally on their way to having the conversation they should have had a decade before. He’d also witnessed the exact moment she’d lost her nerve and fled.