Summer Escape with the Tycoon

She didn’t answer. But that was fine, too. When the time came, he’d be sure they were both on the same page. Eyes wide open.

The dining room was about two-thirds full, but the host led them to a table for two, seated next to a wall of windows that overlooked the forest. Twilight was setting in, so that the trees looked more like forms and shadows than branches and leaves, but that was just fine. His attention, for once, wasn’t going to be on the view.

They ordered starters of crab cakes and a glass of white wine, and he let her guide the conversation around their trip thus far, an easy and enjoyable topic. While Molly ordered planked halibut for her entrée, Eric decided on a small striploin and added king crab legs to it, and then they tried new wines to pair with each dish. They lingered long into the evening, sharing long glances and smiles, moving on to talking about their jobs and their lives.

The more Molly talked, the livelier her eyes became, sparkling and teasing. He picked at his potato, wondering why he couldn’t have met her years ago. Even though he shouldn’t have, he found himself comparing her to Murielle and realized that Murielle had that cool reserve thing going on but Molly...she was warm and vibrant.

“You’ve gone quiet,” she said, leaning over and touching his hand. She left her fingers on his skin and he turned his hand over and clasped hers.

“Sorry. Just thinking.”

“About?”

“How I wish I’d met you ten years ago.”

Her eyes widened but she smiled. “Don’t say things like that, Eric. Remember, we only have a few days together. Then we have to go back. We have jobs. Responsibilities.”

“I know.”

And he did know. He ran a multibillion-dollar corporation. He didn’t have the luxury of taking a flight of fancy. Just a small detour.

“I’m glad we met,” she continued, squeezing his fingers. She looked down, then met his gaze again. “To be honest, I was starting to wonder if I had this in me.”

“Had what?” He frowned, not quite understanding.

“This sense of adventure. Of...fun. My life back home...it’s different. That night at the auction? That’s my typical evening out. A fund-raiser. A dinner with the right people, or perhaps catching up with some college friends who want to share success stories. It’s not exactly...real. Some of our clients are very high-profile.” She tapped the side of her nose and said, “Like a certain actor who has a summer home on the Cape where he lives with his ex’s best friend.”

He remembered the story. Not that he paid much attention to tabloids, but it had been everywhere. You had to live under a rock to not know who she was talking about.

It also meant that such high-profile clients meant high-profile fees. She’d bid over twenty thousand dollars on this trip. He knew because she’d outbid him by a mere hundred dollars. She certainly didn’t need a man to make her feel secure or to provide for her. Molly had accomplished that all on her own.

It was kind of refreshing, actually. Because he knew she wasn’t hanging on to him because of his money. In the months since the divorce, he’d approached every date with a sense of cynicism in that regard. But not with Molly.

“So you’re really getting out?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I’m not sure how yet. I mean, I could take time off and be fine, of course. But I need a purpose. I’d like to find that first before I pull the plug.”

“Makes sense.”

“What about you?”

He gave his head a small shake. “What about me?”

“Will life be the same for you when you go back?”

No, he wanted to answer, but he held back. The truth was, he wasn’t satisfied with his life, either, but had no idea what he’d change. There’d be no Molly. The thought dampened his mood, like snuffing out a candle. One thing he’d definitely like to do, though, was reconnect with his family more, so he said so.

“I’d like to hang out with my brothers again. See if we can’t fix what went wrong. And my mother, too.” He sighed. “Looking back, I might have contributed more to the problem than I thought. I kept telling myself that my family thought I was too good for them. But maybe—maybe I thought it, too.”

“Oh, Eric. I’m sorry. It’s not too late, though.”

“I hope not. I mean, when my dad left, it fell to me to kind of hold things together, you know? I was the oldest. For me it was all about having enough food on the table. Clothes for the boys for school. Making sure the heat wasn’t turned off in the winter.”

That was how he’d defined caring for someone. But what if that wasn’t what they wanted? Had they wanted more of him and less of his money?

“It’s a lot for a young boy to take on. I’m sure they know how hard you worked and appreciate it.”

But he wasn’t sure they did, so he turned the spotlight back on her.