Jim grinned awkwardly.
‘How’s it going?’ she said after a moment. Her words came out quite stiffly, but Jim tried not to read too much into it.
‘With Sarah? She’s nice. You were right.’
‘Only nice?’
He wasn’t sure if she was teasing him. He didn’t smile back.
‘She’s fun,’ he said finally, deciding that sounded the best balance of being complimentary and yet non-committal. Besides, it was entirely honest.
‘Oh yes?’
‘A gentleman never tells,’ he said, holding up his hands.
‘You’re no fun.’ She grinned slowly, swinging her arms by her sides.
‘Let’s just say I can’t decide if the age gap keeps me young or makes me feel very old,’ he said, finally letting his guard down. ‘I told her the first gig I’d ever been to was the Nelson Mandela tribute at Wembley. She said she was there too; the only difference was she was in utero.’
In his line of vision he could see Sarah walking towards them, coltish legs in tailored shorts striding across the sand. He felt guilty about the quip he had just made, and turned his attention back to Jennifer.
‘I like her. Thank you,’ he said as his girlfriend got closer. ‘I forgot how lonely New York can be. So it’s good to have someone around. And I always knew you had impeccable taste in everything.’
‘I wondered where you’d got to,’ said Sarah, her eyes darting between Jim and Jennifer. ‘Is everything OK?’
‘Connor was just being Connor,’ said Jennifer.
She diplomatically stepped back and let Sarah stand between them. The younger woman’s broad smile was a little tighter than usual. As she took her spot, she folded her arms protectively across her chest.
‘I was just stopping Jim from fleeing, because you two are staying here tonight. Best room in the house, although if there’s any more bad behaviour from Connor, we’ll be in separate bedrooms.’
Sarah’s look of fear softened to something more reassured, and Jim took her hand.
‘Now come on,’ said Jennifer. ‘Cooper has been telling me all about a zingy new property hot spot you put him on to, and I want in.’
Jim laughed and followed her back across the sand.
Chapter Fifteen
Gently Jim lifted Sarah’s arm and slid out of bed, tiptoeing across the floor to the bathroom. Closing the door, he ran water into his hands and splashed it on his face. He looked rough, his complexion pallid.
The rest of the evening had actually been surprisingly fun. Once he’d loosened up, Cooper had shown he had a nice line in anecdotes about the celebrities who dined in the Japanese restaurant he owned downtown. Jim had also found himself in demand as a dance partner once the
cheesy disco began on the terrace – one of the pampered wives declaring, ‘It’s like dancing with Mr Darcy.’ Clearly one handsome Englishman was as good as any other after a few appletinis, but at least it allowed Jim to relax a little. He was still angry about his confrontation with Connor by the swimming pool; in the sober light of day, and taking his own guilt out of the equation, he knew that Connor had been spoiling for a fight for the past twenty years and was using the Omari development of Casa D’Or as a rod to beat him with. And with good reason. After all, as far as he was concerned, Jim had tried to pinch his girlfriend off him. Jim and Jennifer had fallen in love, but Connor was never going to see it like that.
Stretching, Jim left the en suite and returned to the bedroom. Sarah had rolled over and kicked off the sheet in her semi-slumber and now lay temptingly naked. Part of him wanted to slide back in next to her and wake her up, but he knew where that would lead. Last night he had avoided sex by blaming his reluctance on the heavy consumption of alcohol; this morning there would be no excuses, but he felt uncomfortable about doing anything so intimate in Jennifer’s house, even if they were in a distant wing.
He stepped outside, squinting at the brightness. Nothing better for a hangover than a blinding flash of sun. Slowly his eyes adjusted to the glare and he leaned on the rail, taking in the view. It was even more impressive from the second floor. From here you could see the whole sweep of the beach, and apart from a small group of gulls picking at the sand, it was deserted. Then he saw movement in the water; not quite deserted, then. Someone was on a paddleboard, heading back towards the beach.
Jim watched as the figure paddled closer, turning from a silhouette to a man in a wetsuit to a recognisable person. It was Connor; there was no mistaking his height. Plus who else would be out on a private beach at six in the morning?
As quietly as he could, he scooped up his jeans and a T-shirt from his overnight bag, put them on, and headed for the door. For himself, Jim would rather never speak to the man again, but for Jennifer’s sake he knew he had to try to make peace with Connor – and there was never going to be a better time than now, when he was on his own.
He padded barefoot downstairs. A few wrong turns and he was out on the terrace, walking down the decking ramp to the beach just as Connor was carrying his board up from the sea.
‘How was it?’ he called.
Connor looked at him, then glanced towards the house. He saw he had no option but to reply.