‘You were talking. Heatedly . . .’
‘We were just chatting.’ He shrugged.
‘That’s what Connor said.’ She looked at him dubiously. ‘But I know him better than that.’
Jennifer’s soft face smiled at him. He remembered the first time they had been alone together, in the dark, by the water, the first night he had gone to Casa D’Or. He’d been dazzled by her. She was pretty – beautiful, even – but in the short time he had been at that supper party, he’d guessed at her many beguiling layers. Jennifer Wyatt was at once the lost girl, the rich girl, the tomboy and the swan. She had spent her whole life doing what other people had told her, and yet with a quiet sense of will she was determined to strike out on her own.
‘He doesn’t think I should be developing Casa D’Or,’ said Jim, knowing he couldn’t hide things from her. ‘Is that what you think?’
‘It’s too late to object now.’ She smiled slowly. ‘I got an email from Marion. She said they’re already recruiting for staff to start at Thanksgiving.’
‘It was never my intention to hurt you, Jen.’
‘I know that. I always have. Despite everything, I love Casa D’Or. I don’t want it to become a mausoleum, and I know you’ll breathe life back into the place. I think it deserves that.’
‘Well, I’m sorry,’ he replied.
‘I’m sorry too. Connor . . . he’s going through some things at the moment.’
He knew it was his opportunity to bring it up.
‘Work?’
She puffed out her cheeks, then looked away.
‘Nothing. Just his latest condo development is more complicated than he thought.’
Jim nodded. It was the big risk in any development project: the time it took and how long you could afford to keep going. Buildings had a way of throwing you endless curveballs: foundations built on unseen mining work, attics that had become home to protected creatures that couldn’t be moved. Ancient masonry, subsidence, termites – there were hundreds of variables that could hold up a build, and that was before you got to the legal problems of ownership, planning consent and any number of local protests that could bubble up. It was always about how soon you could deliver. The longer it took, the more it cost.
‘How complicated?’
She didn’t speak.
‘Jen, tell me. I might be able to help.’
‘He’d like that.’ She smiled grimly. ‘Besides, I’m sure he’ll work it out.’
He took a step towards her.
‘Jen, I know people. I might be able to point him towards someone, maybe pull in a favour.’
‘No,’ she said, shaking her head.
‘Too proud?’
‘Not me. Connor.’
‘Besides, I’d be the last person he’d take help from, right?’
‘Your words, not mine,’ she smiled.
She looked at him for a long moment, then threw back the last of her drink.
‘Come on,’ she said. ‘Let’s get back to the party.’
Jim shook his head. ‘I think it’d be better if Sarah and I pushed off.’
‘Pushed off? You’ve both had a drink, it’s two hours back to the city. You’re staying over as planned, and that’s the last I’ll hear of it. If you leave, it will only make things more awkward. Besides, I don’t go to the trouble of matchmaking if I can’t enjoy watching the results.’