Holiday In the Hamptons (From Manhattan with Love 5)

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

FEELING LIKE ROADKILL, Fliss let herself into the house. She’d checked her mirror and knew she looked like hell on the outside. The inside felt even worse. She felt as if she was torn and bleeding, her heart and her hopes ripped into shreds. Given that she seemed to have lost the ability to hide her feelings, she was hoping her grandmother might be having a nap. Or maybe even have ventured into town with one of her friends.

That hope was dashed when the kitchen door opened.

Fliss braced herself, but to her surprise it wasn’t her grandmother who stood there. It was her sister.

“Harriet?” No! She couldn’t do this. Not right now. Could today get any worse? She forced herself to smile, trying to remember everything she’d once known about hiding. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Spontaneous visit.” Her sister scanned her face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong. I’m fine. Now tell me why you’re here.”

“I was worried about you.”

“Me? I’ve never been better. Why didn’t you just text me or call? I could have saved you a journey.” And maybe spared herself the exhaustion of putting on an act. She couldn’t do this now. She had no reserves left.

“Chase gave me a ride in the helicopter.”

“So you’ve joined the jet set.” Fliss dropped her purse, conscious of her filthy appearance. She’d been hoping to lock herself in the bathroom and let tears flow in the shower, but it seemed that indulgence would need to be postponed until later. “Where’s Grams?”

Maybe her grandmother could occupy Harriet while she vanished to the bathroom and pulled herself together.

All she needed was a few minutes. A few minutes to remind herself how to pull up that drawbridge.

“She’s upstairs. What have you been doing? You’re covered in dust.”

“I’ve been helping Seth clear out his parents’ house.” She walked into the kitchen and made herself a coffee, hoping the caffeine would restore her energy levels. “Now tell me why you’re really here. I know you. You don’t fly from Manhattan without good reason. Love the shirt by the way. You look great in green.”

“I’m worried.” Harriet looked at her steadily. “You’re seeing Seth again.”

Fliss sat down. “We’re friends, that’s all.” And probably not even that. It felt as if she’d been kicked in the chest.

“But Grams said—”

“You know Grams. She’s a romantic. She wants a happy ending.”

Harriet stared at her. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing. I’m telling you everything. Ninety/ten, that’s me.”

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing.” Fliss stood up, almost knocking over the chair. “I ought to go and shower.”

“Fliss—” Harriet reached out a hand, and Fliss brushed her away. She was so close to the edge that she knew that if her sister as much as touched her, she’d fall.

“I’m filthy. Need to wash off this dust.”

“You’re upset—”

“Truly I’m not.” And then she noticed the box, open on the counter. “I see Grams told you about Mom. A bit of a shock to the system. I always thought she was the one who loved Dad. Not the other way around. Poor Mom.” And poor her. What was she supposed to do with all these feelings? Put them in a box and shove them under the bed as her mother had done? If only it were that easy. “I’m surprised she kept a secret that big.”

Harriet held her gaze. “Why would you be surprised? Keeping secrets is a family trait.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“You keep things from me.”