The door slammed, leaving Jared alone on the pool deck. He turned away from the building and headed for a lounge chair on the far side of the patio. A breeze rushed in from the waves breaking on the beach. He couldn’t see the surf on the other side of the retaining wall, but he could taste the salt in the air.
So damn familiar.
He thought he’d escaped the taste and feel of the ocean. He’d traded the erratic tides, the crazy, unpredictable life he’d lived growing up down in Florida, for Manhattan’s consistent, but fast pace. But work, Finn, and now Lucy, brought him back to the sunshine state.
Lucy.
He thought he’d known her. Hell, he’d watched her grow up, spending more time at the Linden’s welcoming home than his own as a kid. Sweet, innocent, Disney-crazed Lucy had been a fixture in his life. And he’d believed he’d figured out what made the princess tick. But now he wasn’t so sure.
Sinking down onto the chair, he read her message again. He analyzed the words, separating them from the sweet businesswoman he thought he understood.
She’s heartbroken.
Jared closed his eyes and let the fury roll off him. Fantasizing about hurting her ex-fiancé wouldn’t help. He needed to move her beyond heartbreak and give her a reason to trust him—after he’d pursed her under a false name.
Time. He had to buy himself another day or two to show her that Philip Ryder’s words and Jared Mitchell’s action made for a winning combination.
Dear Lucy,
You won’t regret taking a chance on me. That’s a promise. Don’t be afraid to rewrite your dreams and plans for the future. I changed mine when I joined the world of online dating.
Yours truly,
Mr. Ab Selfie
P.S. I told my friends that ab selfies win dates with bondage virgins, but no one believes me.
Jared hit send before he deleted the signature line. If anyone found out he’d signed a message “Mr. Ab Selfie”—hell, if Finn discovered that detail, Jared would never hear the end of it. He stood and headed across the patio. But he detoured away from double doors. Instead, he moved to the wall of windows separating the main dining room from the pool. He scanned the crowd until he found her.
On the other side of the glass, Lucy excused herself from a conversation with two ladies Jared failed to recognize. She stepped to the edge of the crowd and reached into her purse. Her lips parted as she withdrew her phone. Then she tapped on the screen.
She’s reading my message.
Her eyes softened, but Jared didn’t look away. His jaw tightened as he waited for her to reach the end.
And then she did. He knew she’d read the signature when she tossed back her head and laughed.
Jared turned away from the windows. The local paper could run a column that outed him as Mr. Ab Selfie when this was all over. It would still be worth it to see Lucy smile—to push her heartbreak a little further into the past. He couldn’t erase her pain with one message. But give him time and he’d find a way.
Chapter 13
“You baked the emergency roll of cinnamon buns?” Emma called as she stumbled to the coffeemaker. Her yellow, silk robe flowed behind her, filling the room with a sunshine pop of color.
Nicole stopped in the kitchen’s entry to sniff the air, and her eyes widened. “What happened last night?”
“Nothing.” Lucy opened the oven and withdrew the baking sheet. She set it on the stovetop to cool before applying the frosting. “Last night was a grand success. I rescued Jared without kissing him in the library.”
“That’s your definition of success now?” Nicole poured herself a mug full of coffee and headed for the creamer.
“I also met a handful of potential clients and had this open, honest but playful back-and-forth with Philip.” Lucy plucked her phone off the counter. “But then this morning, I wake up to this message from Mr. Ab Selfie.”
“Is that what we’re calling the potential axe murderer now?” Nicole murmured over the edge of her steaming mug.
“His words, not mine,” Lucy said.
“What did this morning’s message say?” Emma asked. She’d cut open the frosting packet and started covering the still-steaming buns.
“Those are still too hot,” Lucy protested.