Undeniable

Would it even have mattered if they had? Over the years, I’d come to realize that the events of that night had probably been an excuse for him to end the clandestine relationship he was having with his family’s charity case. It had been a way out for him, a way to leave me hanging without feeling the regret any decent man would have felt at crushing the illusions of the foolish girl I had been then.

He crushed more than my illusions. Would he be so hateful if he knew what his rejection had really cost me? I wonder sadly, my eyes going to the curtains at the French windows that open into the garden. I watch them move, slowly, almost dreamily, in the gentle breeze coming from outside. Well he would never know.

“What happened to Carter Felton?” I find myself asking Constance.

Constance sighs. “Blythe broke up with him after he told her the truth. I heard that he went to rehab in some place in California, and he decided to stay, he’s a coach there now, helps people get over their addictions.”

I nod. Apparently, it all worked out for everyone. Blythe must have gotten over him too. She had transferred to some university in France soon after I left Halcyon. When she came back a couple of years later, she had been quite popular in the New York society scene. Now she ran her own interior decorating firm and seemed to be doing very well. Everyone’s wounds and bruises had healed, I decide. Except for mine.

No, mine are healed too, I remind myself. This house I once loved, the people who own it, they mean nothing to me now. I’m not a lonely girl yearning for acceptance anymore. I’m an independent young woman with a career, and a full life. I keep this thought in my head as we all move to the dining room where Mrs. Shannon has laid out a sumptuous dinner. I allow myself to get lost in the taste of good food and wine. Who cares what Jackson and Lindsay Gorman are doing right now? I tell myself. I sure as hell don’t.

After dinner, there’s a lively discussion about the paintings in the house, from the various master’s paintings in the main living room to the more contemporary ones hanging in the foyer. Carl surprises us all by having a seemingly inexhaustible supply of information about painters and paintings, from dates and places of birth and deaths to the occasionally incredible stories behind some of the art.

“I don’t know why he sticks with you.” I whisper to Nick, “He should be working in one of those swanky art galleries or auction houses.”

“He used to.” Nick says. “It went bankrupt, I think. Anyway he meets a lot more people working for me,” He grins, “and yes, by people, I mean women.”

I shake my head, and listen as Elaine tries to match her knowledge of art against Carl’s. After a while, I get up and go out through the French doors, onto the terrace overlooking the garden. There’s a carved stone railing between the terrace and the garden, and I lean on it, enjoying the summer sounds of the night around me.

“So you and Jackson Lockewood…?

? I don’t hear Nick until he’s right beside me. “What’s the story?”

I don’t look at him. “What makes you think there’s one?”

“Come on.” He chuckles and leans down on the railing beside me. “Anyone could see the sparks flying from miles away. Were you in love with him?"

I snort. It’s a harsh, bitter sound. “As much in love as a teenage girl could be.”

“And he took advantage of you… what a bastard.”

“No, I… It wasn’t like that.” Even after everything, I don't want anyone to think that Jackson took advantage of me, because he didn’t. I’d wanted him, and I would have given him every part of me without him having to ask. “He never did anything I didn’t want desperately.”

I can feel Nick’s eyes on me, and when I turn to face him, there’s compassion in his gaze, and understanding. “Love is so short," he quotes solemnly, “forgetting takes forever.”

Exactly, I think. How I’ve wished at times that I could flip a switch and forget that I ever loved Jackson, but I know I’ll never forget him. “What do you think of the house?" I ask, changing the subject.

His eyes gleam. “It’s a treasure.” He says. I’ve been talking with Elaine. There’s so much material here, the history of the house, the land, the architect, the influences, the changes and additions over the years, the exquisite art collection and furniture, and the people who have lived here. It’s going to read almost like fiction, but with images. Gilt wants the book to be interesting, not just a collection of photographs of famous houses.

“Well that certainly explains Elaine.” I say, “Grace told me that she’s been quite successful writing short stories.”

“She might look like a model but she’s as sharp as a needle, too sharp to fall for an old lothario like me, anyway.”

“Good for her,” I say teasingly, “she deserves better than you, every girl does.”

“Don’t go around telling them that.” He laughs, and then surprisingly pulls me towards him for a quick hug. “You’ll be all right here, won’t you? Jackson being here won’t be too much of an issue?”

“I’m big girl, Nick.”

“Good.” He smiles.

I enjoy his good humor because I know it’ll only be for a short while. Tomorrow he’ll be a tyrant, yelling at Carl, and giving me cryptic instructions on the exact messages he wants the images to convey, expecting me to be able to read his mind and see the picture exactly as he does, and get my camera to give it to him exactly as he saw it in his mind. However, I don’t mind, I’m even excited. If there is anything that has brought me comfort in the last few years, it’s been my work.

The sound of a car on the drive disturbs the silence outside. “Well, that’s probably the big bad Jackson.” Nick observes. He looks at me. "Don’t hide out here because of him. You only defeat your demons by facing them.”

Only, some demons cannot be defeated, I think sadly. “I’m not hiding, Nick. I’m enjoying the night air.”

He laughs and goes back inside. The breeze picks up, bringing with it the scent of the flowers in the garden. I inhale, remembering the peonies and tulips Constance used to grow and wondering if she still gave the gardeners trouble with her strict instruction on exactly how to plant them.