How to Keep a Secret

He frowned. “They made you cry?”

“I wasn’t crying.”

“You couldn’t see where you were going.”

“I had things on my mind, that’s all.”

He said nothing else until they reached the boatyard.

He parked the car and killed the engine. “Tell me what’s on your mind. I want to know.”

She remembered the first time she’d confided in him and the way he’d sat so still and attentive as he’d listened carefully to everything she’d said. No one had ever listened to her like that before. And she remembered the first time he’d kissed her. It had felt as if someone had lit a firework inside her. That feeling had burned up all her doubts, her hang-ups and her inhibitions.

She stared out over the water, watching people come and go. “It’s busy. I hadn’t realized the business had grown so much.”

“Tell me what happened at the bank.”

“They won’t give me a loan. Without the loan I can’t start my business, and it’s frustrating because I even have my first client ready and waiting. Do you know Miranda Hillyard? She wants me to work on her beach house.”

“I know the place. That would be a pretty big project.”

“Beyond my wildest dreams. Unfortunately the bank thought my dreams were a little too wild.”

Scott tapped his fingers on the wheel. “Did you tell them you had a potential client?”

“Yes, but I have no track record and no collateral. I don’t blame them really. I wouldn’t lend me money either. I’m as upset for the others as I am for myself. We’ve all contributed something and Mom was going to help me with the design elements. She’s excited about it. The last few months we’ve all had a common purpose. And the best thing is that it was doing something I’ve always wanted to do.” She tried to explain. “Ed was always the one who earned the money and I stayed home with Mack, but I’d reached the stage where I was ready to work and do something for myself. Finally I got the qualification I needed and it felt like a new phase. I’d already made plans to set up my own business back in London.”

“You always had a glossy magazine in your hand, usually covered in pen marks to show what you’d do differently.”

She was surprised. “You remember that?”

“I remember all of it.”

So did she.

“Ed died and the ‘new phase’ turned out to be something I hadn’t planned for. And then it seemed that maybe I might get to live out that dream after all. It almost makes it harder to handle this time because it was snatched away at the last minute.” She closed her eyes, embarrassed. “Sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? When life is hard sometimes all you have to keep you going is dreams, and yours have been crushed. You have a right to be disappointed and upset.”

That was how she felt. Crushed. First by the phone call from James and then by the meeting at the bank. “Life doesn’t turn out the way you plan, does it?”

“Rarely, but in this case it can. How much do you need?”

“Excuse me?”

“Money. How much?”

She’d run the numbers so many times, she knew the answer without looking. And then she realized he wasn’t asking the question out of interest. “I don’t want your money, Scott.”

“Why?”

“Because I need to do this by myself.”

“You want to make life as tough as possible, is that it? If you land with your face in a puddle of water be sure to inhale?”

“I can’t take your money. And you shouldn’t be offering. I’m a risk. If you don’t believe me, ask the bank.”

“The bank has boxes to tick. I don’t. You have a talent and skills that are going to be in demand. The way I see it I’d be making an investment.”