Be What Love Is Read online

“I guess I’m not as experienced as you,” she says in reference to my parents and like a powerful boa constrictor the grief wraps tightly around my core, trying to squeeze the breath out of me. It won’t succeed, it hasn’t in years. I inhale deeply through my nose, expanding my chest to shake it off.

  She watches me carefully and then closes her eyes and shakes her head. “Reid, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

  “It’s fine.”

  She has a doubtful expression but thankfully doesn’t press the matter. “I think I’ll go lay down. Let me know if I need to do anything else with Mr. Leeds.”

  “I will.”

  I follow closely behind her. My hand instinctively reaches out to the delicious curve of her lower back, but I pull it back right before making contact. I make a fist to control myself and shake my head. I can’t afford to get off track, and Cara so easily pulls me away from my focus.

  She glances back before leaving me behind with the others out in the hallway. She’s not even out of earshot before Victoria pounces. “What happened in there?”

  “We came to an agreement,” I answer and fill her in on the details.

  Needless to say, she’s bloody furious.

  “But Reid, we need you back at the office. Our top clients are going to have doubts now that Trevor is gone, especially the Collins Group. If we’re going to go forward with the expansion, we have to be at the top of our game.”

  “Right, but I think this will be worth it,” I argue and then I pull her aside for good measure and whisper, “I’ll make sure the most valuable articles of the estate go to auction.”

  She mulls it over and then whispers, “Fine. But be quick. And get back to London as soon as possible.”

  “I’ll try.”

  Victoria’s mobile rings and she steps aside to take the call. I run my hands over my face and sigh. I’m in need of a very stiff drink. I go back in the parlor and find Mr. Leeds packing up his briefcase. We exchange pleasantries and goodbyes as I pour myself a glass of Scotch. Once he’s gone, I sit down and press the glass against my temple. Flashes of Cara invade my thoughts. Not the money or Canterwood Manor or the company. Just the look on Cara’s face as she read her letter.

  I make a dent in my drink, then set it on the end table next to my letter. I pick up the wrinkled piece of paper and read over the beginning again.

  Reid,

  I know it’s probably odd getting a letter from me like this, but I wanted to express some final wishes and thoughts I have for you now that I’m gone. Since you’ve received this letter at the reading of the will, I have a feeling that you’ve met Trevor’s granddaughter, Cara. We made the two of you equal beneficiaries of this estate. We believe this will be an amicable arrangement.

  I set aside the residual anger that lingers about the estate, take another long drink and read on.

  I’m sure this comes as quite a surprise since you don’t know Cara, but hopefully, you’ll understand how much she meant to Trevor. This was once her childhood home and being back is probably very emotional for her.

  You’ve always been a sharp lad, methodical, and focused. Sometimes too much. Take some time to look around. This was your home too. Don’t move too fast. Take it in before it’s gone.

  If this letter finds you alone once again in this life, I hope that it won’t be for long. Open your heart, Reid. Don’t be afraid to let love in. It saved you once before. It will save you again.

  I’ve been so proud of all you have accomplished, and I know your parents would be proud too. I love you, my boy.

  ~Anna

  I bring the glass to my lips once more and finish the drink, then walk over to the fireplace. I toss the letter into it, grab a match from the mantle and strike. I crouch down and set fire to my aunt’s final words. They melt into ashes.

  Chapter Five

  The Lion

  Cara

  Julie puts her empty suitcase on the bed, right beside where I’m sitting and clicking through the photos on her fancy camera. She went to Bath yesterday to sightsee while I handled the business of the will. She’s an amazing photographer. Always has been.

  “So, have you told your mom that you’re extending your trip?” she asks while packing her shoes.

  I set the camera aside and roll back to stare at the ceiling. “No. She doesn’t even know I’m here.”

  There’s no motion from her end. “What are you talking about? You didn’t tell her?”

  I shake my head and continue to stare at the ceiling. She’s still not moving. I prop myself up on my elbows and find her staring at me with her mouth agape, a pair of pants in her hand.

  “But the two of you talked after you got the news.”

  “Yes, we talked, but she closed up. She said she wouldn’t come back here and she didn’t want me to either.”

  Julie plops down on the opposite side of the bed and turns in toward me. “Seriously? She didn’t want you to come back here?”

  “That’s right.”

  Julie shakes her head as she processes it all. I wait for her next question, which I know is coming.

  “Why? Because of the affair?”

  “My mom went ballistic when that happened. Her mom had just died, and she was already so upset. It seemingly pushed her over the edge.”

  “And she never forgave him?”

  “Nope. She knows how to hold a grudge.”

  “That seems extreme. I know cheating is terrible and all that, but God, that’s taking it really far, if you don’t mind me saying.”

  “I don’t mind at all, and I agree. That’s why I think there’s more to it than the affair.”

  “You do?” she asks and sits down beside me.

  “Yeah. The affair was bad, no doubt, but it’s not like my grandparents got along that well. I barely even saw them in the same room together. Looking back, I’m sure it was a loveless marriage.”

  “Okay, so what do you think it’s about?”

  “I think it has something to do with my dad,” I tell her openly.

  “I thought you didn’t know your dad.”

  “I don’t. She’s made sure that it stayed that way over the years.”

  My conversation with my mom, right after I told her that her father died, continues to eat away at me.

  “Mom, what really happened with granddad? All this time that you haven’t talked to him, it had to be about something more than Anna. What did he do?”

  “Cara, stop, I’m not going down that road with you.”

  “Why not? Don’t I have a right to know why we cut him out of our lives?”

  “It’s complicated,” she said through a muffled sob.

  “Does it have something to do with my dad?”

  “Cara, stop,” she repeated.

  I kept going. “That’s it, isn’t? Did granddad interfere or something?”

  “That’s putting it lightly,” she said quickly and probably regretted it immediately because it was the first glimpse I ever had into her past with my dad.

  “Tell me about him,” I pleaded.

  “No, Cara. I am done talking about this. He is not a part of our lives and never will be. My father made sure of that. So please, just drop it. We’re not going back to England, and that’s final.”

  And that was that.

  “Did your mom and dad have a falling out?” Julie asks, bringing me back to the present.

  “Obviously at some point. But more than that, I think my grandfather had something to do with it. That’s why she was so angry at him.”

  “Wait. Is that why you want to stay here longer? Are you looking for information about your dad?”

  “No. Well not originally. I do want to go through the house to find mementos, but it did cross my mind when I made the arrangement with Reid. If we turn the house over to someone else and I go home, I might never find out the truth. And lord knows my mom isn’t going to tell me.” I shake my head at the thought of even asking her again.

  “Do you want to meet him?�
� she asks carefully.

  “Honestly, I’m feeling nervous about the whole proposition. I’ve done just fine without a father my whole life, but being here, knowing that my dad could be nearby is driving me a little crazy. Especially since we’ve already wasted so much time. If I’ve learned anything from this whole situation, it’s that I don’t want to feel this kind of regret ever again.”

  Julie’s mental gears are in operation. She’s a helper through and through. “Maybe the answer is in this house somewhere.”

  “That’s what I’m counting on.”

  “Well, it’s going to take you forever to go through this house, room-by-room. Your mom is gonna catch on that you’re gone if she hasn’t already.”

  “Maybe she won’t,” I reply, but I know better. She’s right. The idea makes me groan dramatically.

  “You’re going to have to tell her what you’re up to. It’s not like she’ll disown you.”

  “Are you hearing yourself? That’s exactly how I got into this mess in the first place. She left England and didn’t say another word, not another word, to my grandfather. That woman can hold a grudge.”

  She considers that as she stands and goes to the dresser to collects her bras. “Okay, new subject. What about Reid?”

  I perk up. “What about him?”

  “Well, are you sure you can handle Mr. Angry Hot Bod on your own?”

  I laugh nervously at her name for him. “Uh, yeah. Why wouldn’t I be able to?”

  “Well the two of you, well, I don’t know how to say this without just saying it.”

  “Then just say it.”

  “When the two of you are together it’s always really intense. He seems all reserved and proper, but he gets kind of crazy eyes around you. I never know what’s going to happen. It’s like you’re saying things to each other without using words.”

  Julie sees through everything. Reid and I have a complicated association, and I’m afraid to dwell on what drives it, especially if that Victoria woman is his girlfriend. They do seem to be quite close. I take the easy way out. “I think we’re both grieving and it’s hard.”

  My head stays down because I’m truly incapable of looking her in the eye. I don’t want her to know how spooked I really am about this guy. “New subject?” I ask, hoping to move on.

  She giggles. “Okay, go.”

  “Let’s see. Do you think I should quit my job? Isn’t it the right thing to do since I don’t know how long I’ll be gone?”

  “Nah, get a leave of absence. They’re constantly looking for people. They’ll be happy to have you back.”

  “Okay, I better call my manager.”

  “Wait a minute,” Julie says and pauses halfway between the dresser and the suitcase.

  “What?”

  “Yeah, you should quit your job,” she says with the most ridiculous smile I’ve ever seen on her.

  “Oh, so you do think it would be rude to ask for a leave of absence?”

  She bounces up and down. “No, you should quit your job!”

  I still don’t get it. “Why’s that?”

  She shakes her head and covers her eyes. “Because you’re rich, stupid. You don’t need a job at a coffee house.”

  The realization hits me like a 50-pound bag of coffee beans. “Oh.”

  “Based on this place, I kind of don’t think you ever have to work again,” she notes and makes a high pitched squeal.

  “But…” I start, with no actual retort to back that up. I quickly imagine a new life in La Jolla, sitting by the pool, staring at the ocean, drinking mimosas and working on a perfect tan. As appealing as that sounds for about a week, I don’t want to do that forever, I want to work. And then I remember the internship I’ve coveted since I learned about it two years ago. “The Fitzwilliam Library.”

  Julie blinks a few times, trying to catch my drift. “That internship with the rare books?”

  “Yes,” I answer, and a huge smile spreads across my face. “The stipend was never enough to cover my expenses.”

  “But now?”

  “Now I could do it.”

  Julie drops her clothes in the suitcase and comes over to hug me. “You’re free,” she whispers.

  It’s a hard reality to wrap my mind around, but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s true. There won’t be nearly as many worries or pressure to take any job that comes along so I can pay back my loans. It opens up so many possibilities for my mom and me. Maybe she won’t have to work two jobs and can get her weekends back. I would love to help her do that and pay her back for all she’s given me, but as I think through it more my smile fades. We’ve come full circle. My mom refused to accept money from my grandfather, so why would she accept his money through me?

  “Whoa, what’s wrong? You just went from elated to miserable really fast.”

  I answer with two little words. “My mom.”

  “Cara, I mean this with total love, and I will do whatever I need to do to support you, but you’ve got to work it out with her.”

  “Yeah, I know,” I reply, even though it’s a nearly impossible task.

  “And there’s something else you need to work on too.”

  “Oh yeah, what’s that Dr. Phil?”

  “Funny,” she says deadpan. “But seriously, you need to work on forgiving yourself for all of this, for not coming back sooner. You’re too hard on yourself.”

  I laugh a little and shake my head. “That is so much easier said than done.”

  “I know, but—”

  “But, I’ll work on it, I promise. While I’m working on all this other stuff too. I just need time,” I tell her. And that’s the truth. I need time to figure out what really happened between my mom and dad. Time to reconnect with my past and figure it all out, before my mom finds out I’m here. I lean over and hug Julie. “I’m going to miss you.”

  Reid

  “Keep me updated on your progress and if you find any goodies,” Victoria orders and then swiftly pecks a kiss on each cheek.

  “I will,” I reply and hand her bag over to the hired driver that’s taking her back to London.

  She doesn’t look back as she walks toward the black sedan with her head held high.

  I close the door after a sufficient amount of time and rest my forehead against it. I haven’t been sleeping much since I arrived in Wells and I’m sure it won’t improve until all of this business is over and I’m back in London. I start dreaming up a strategy to accelerate the process when a small feminine voice breaks my train of thought. “Hey.”

  Cara is there with her hands in her skirt pockets. A cautious smile lifts the corner of her lips.

  “Hello, Cara. How are you?”

  “Okay, I guess,” she says tentatively. She clearly hasn’t forgotten that the last time I asked her, I inappropriately ridiculed her answer of great. Damn liquor. “So Victoria left?”

  “You saw that?” I ask, a little nervous about Victoria’s goodies comment.

  Cara’s face turns petal pink as she quickly apologizes, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

  We’re standing at least ten feet apart, but the room feels like it’s closing in on me. For someone so small, she has the power of presence to fill up space like no one I’ve ever known. Before I can tell her there’s no need to apologize, she goes on. “Julie left too, back to Cali. Where’s Victoria going?”

  I drag a hand through my hair. “Back to London. Back to work.”

  “Where does she work?”

  “With me, at our investment company.”

  “Oh really? I didn’t know that.”

  As it turns out, we don’t know much about each other. If we’re going to be spending time together, I suppose it’s only right to get to know one another. As long as it doesn’t distract us too much from the task at hand. “What is it that you do?”

  “I’m in graduate school.”

  I’m not surprised. Something about how soft she is, the little striped dresses she wears, and even the wildness of her
hair tell me she doesn’t have a lot of experience in the business world. “What area of study?” I ask.

  “Library science. I’m doing an online Masters Degree through USC. When I’m not in class virtually, I work at a coffee shop.”

  An unexpected jolt of curiosity strikes me. Trevor was always fond of books and cultivated quite the library. Is that where she got it from? “I’m sure your grandfather would be proud,” I tell her.

  She draws in a quick breath. “Thanks for saying that.” Her cheeks maintain a rosy glow, and I suddenly have an insane urge to cup her face between my hands and swipe my thumbs across them. Obviously, I don’t. That would be bloody mad.

  An awkward silence comes upon us like a wave on the Gold Coast. We’re pulled into the undertow, and I’m certain we’re going to drown in it. There’s a quick flash of eye contact, but I look away. We do it again, but this time we stick like magnets. Her green eyes are gorgeous and a little bit mischievous. She has a dark freckle beside her left eye, like a notable asterisk. I wish could read the footnotes on Cara Montgomery so I could understand her better.

  Her chest heaves as she takes in a long breath. Before she can take another, she breaks the moment and looks down at the floor.

  It dawns on me that nothing about this process is going to be fast or simple.

  Thankfully, Mrs. McHenry rips us out of the awkward moment by bouncing in from around the corner. Her intrusion is most welcome. “Dinner is almost ready. I hope you like Lamb Stew.”

  Cara wrinkles her nose. “Lamb stew?”

  Mrs. McHenry nods. “You used to love it when you were a wee lass.”

  “Whatever you say, Mrs. McHenry,” Cara says and giggles while following her out.

  I lag behind and rub my face. Cara and I certainly don’t have dull interactions. It was such a humdrum conversation, but it felt anything but humdrum to me. I must be losing my mind.

  At the table, Mrs. McHenry serves our meal while we both pick up our utensils, ready to get started. As I take my first bite, Cara timidly brings the spoon up to her lips and darts her tongue out at the stew.

  A low chuckle rumbles around in my chest. “All right there?”